Veil of Darkness | Yan! Itachi x Reader |

Chapter 5

Y/N had never felt so exposed, so on edge. Even in the safety of her own flat, something felt off. She couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, of eyes lingering on her when she was alone, as though the very shadows were keeping tabs on her every move.

The city buzzed beneath her window, the low hum of distant traffic providing a backdrop to her solitude. She had tried to throw herself into her work, desperate for some sense of normalcy. But it was useless. The moment her mind quieted, the thoughts of him returned. Itachi. His eyes, his words, the way he had touched her cheek with such calculated tenderness. It all stayed with her, seeping into her thoughts like a poison.

And somewhere deep down, Y/N knew...he was always there.

It started slowly at first—a subtle unease, a sense that she wasn't truly alone. She would glance out of the corner of her eye, convinced for just a second that she'd seen something shift in the shadows. But when she turned, there was nothing there. Just the empty street outside her window, the flickering streetlamp casting jagged shadows against the pavement.

But Itachi was no fool. He was patient. He didn't need her to see him yet. Not fully. He took his time, watching her from a distance, slipping into the darkness whenever she looked. He was always one step behind, just close enough to breathe her in, to feel her presence, to let the thrill of the hunt simmer in his veins.

This was more than just attraction. This was obsession. And Itachi was beyond the point of no return.

Y/N locked her door that evening, tossing her keys onto the table with a sigh. She tried to shake the feeling, to brush it off as paranoia, but deep down she knew something wasn't right. The air in her flat felt heavy, almost suffocating. She turned on every light she could, desperate to chase away the suffocating darkness that clung to her skin like a second layer.

She walked to her window, peering down into the street. From this height, everything looked normal. People walked by, cars zipped down the road, and yet... she felt it. Somewhere in the sea of anonymity, he was there.

Unseen. Unheard. Watching.

Itachi stood in the shadows of the alleyway across the street, cloaked in the darkness like it was a second skin. His eyes never left her window, tracking her every movement from the moment she arrived home. There was a sick satisfaction in it—the way he could observe her, see her vulnerabilities, without her ever knowing.

Her curtains were half-drawn, but he could still catch glimpses of her as she moved about her flat. His fingers twitched slightly as he watched her pull her hair back into a loose bun, the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she let out an exasperated sigh.

She had no idea.

Itachi's breath came slow and steady. He wasn't in a rush. No, obsession was a delicate thing. It needed to be cultivated, nurtured. He couldn't risk scaring her off too soon. The thrill was in the slow burn, in the careful, calculated steps that brought him closer to her without her ever realizing.

He had followed her for weeks now. Every day after class, he had watched her. Memorized her routine. The coffee shop she visited every morning, the route she took to the library, the way she would glance over her shoulder when she thought someone was behind her.

Each time, she dismissed it. Each time, she convinced herself she was being paranoid.

Foolish girl.

Itachi smirked to himself, his dark eyes glinting in the dim street light. His obsession with her had grown beyond control. It had taken root, blossomed into something far more dangerous than mere attraction. And now, it was too late to stop.

The thrill of control was intoxicating. He was the predator, and she, the unsuspecting prey. And soon, very soon, she would realize just how deep she had fallen.

Inside her flat, Y/N felt her stomach twist with unease. She moved toward the door, checking the lock for the third time that night. The deadbolt was firmly in place, but it didn't ease the sense of dread that gnawed at her. Something was wrong. She could feel it in her bones.

But what could she do? Call the police and tell them what? That she had a "feeling" she was being watched?

No one would believe her.

As Y/N tried to distract herself with a book, Itachi's gaze never wavered. He imagined what it would be like to step inside her world—to invade the sanctuary she had built for herself. He could do it. It would be so easy. He could slip inside her flat in the dead of night, his movements silent and precise. She would never know. Not until it was too late.

He could watch her sleep, stand over her bed, and see the way her lips parted slightly with each shallow breath. He could be so close, his fingers just inches from her skin, without her ever waking.

The thought sent a surge of adrenaline through him.

But not yet. Not tonight. No, tonight was for watching. For savouring the anticipation.

Y/N paced her flat, the uneasy feeling refusing to leave. She turned on the TV, hoping the noise would drown out her thoughts, but it didn't help. The feeling was still there, creeping along her skin like cold fingers. She moved toward the window again, peering out into the darkness. The street was empty now, the few people that had been walking earlier gone.

But she couldn't shake the sense that someone was out there, hidden just out of sight. She stared for a long time, her breath fogging up the glass, before finally shaking her head and pulling the curtains closed.

Itachi watched as the curtains slid shut, a small smile playing on his lips. She was getting close now. So close to realizing the truth. But not quite yet. There was still so much more to do, so many ways to twist the knife.

He turned on his heel, blending back into the shadows as he slipped away, his heart pounding with dark satisfaction. The night was his, and soon enough, so would she be.

Y/N may have closed the curtains, but Itachi was never far. He was always there, lurking in the background, waiting. Watching. And when the time came, he would be ready to claim what was his.