Dealing with the Devil [Yandere x Reader]

Chapter 65 - Everything?

The familiar click of the keys filled the air, rhythmic and satisfying as I typed away on my laptop. A strange lightness had settled over me since the confrontation with Christian, a feeling that I hadn't experienced in what felt like ages—freedom.

Or at least, the closest thing to it that I could get. My fingers flew over the keys, a soft smile tugging at my lips as I watched the words fill the screen.

Thank God I got to burn those rules.

The thought echoed in my mind, and I couldn't help but relish the sense of victory that came with it. Christian had finally relented, lifting the suffocating constraints he'd placed on me, and I was free to breathe again.

Free to talk to my friends.

Free to move without his shadow looming over me at every turn.

For now, anyway.

I paused, my fingers hovering over the keys as a wave of giddiness washed over me.

Now, I can really have everything.

The words felt almost too good to believe. The tight, choking grip of control had loosened, and for the first time in weeks, I felt like I had won. I had pushed back. I had set a boundary, and Christian had crossed it—no more.

But as I stared at the screen, watching the blinking cursor, a small part of me couldn't help but wonder if I had really won at all.

What did I even win?

The right to talk to Jess and Lora again?

The ability to leave the house without feeling like I was walking on eggshells? It felt like such a small victory in the grand scheme of things. Christian's control was still there, lingering beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to reassert itself.

Still, I let myself bask in this fleeting sense of power. I typed happily, the words flowing easily, unhindered by the oppressive feeling that had weighed me down for so long. My story—the one I had been working on for weeks—was finally coming together, the narrative of obsession and suffocation that had mirrored my own life in ways I hadn't even fully realized. I could see it now, clear as day.

Shadows of Desire: Obsession Masquerading as Love.

The title sat at the top of the document, bold and unapologetic, a reflection of everything I had been through. The characters I had created were no longer just characters—they were shadows of my own reality, distorted reflections of what I had lived. I wrote about suffocation, about how love could become a prison if the boundaries weren't respected.

I wrote about power, about control, and how easily it could shift when one person held all the cards.

I had always thought love was supposed to be freeing, but with Christian, I had learned that love could just as easily become a cage. The bars weren't always visible, but they were there, surrounding me. It wasn't until I had pushed back that I realized how tight the grip around me had been.

And now, with the rules burned and the cage momentarily open, I was free.

Free to write.

Free to live.

Free to breathe.

But somewhere deep inside, a part of me knew that this freedom came with strings attached. Christian wasn't the kind of man who let go easily. I could see it in his eyes, in the way he had crumbled when I demanded my space. He hadn't wanted to give in—he had only done so because he was desperate not to lose me completely.

So what happens when he realizes that this isn't enough?

The thought crept in, uninvited, and for a second, my hands stilled on the keyboard. I knew Christian. I knew how he operated. This was only a temporary peace. He'd let me have this moment, this small slice of victory, but there would come a time when he would push back. He always did.

And I needed to be ready for that.

I leaned back in my chair, the glow of the screen casting a faint light across the room. The sense of happiness that had filled me earlier was still there, but now it was tinged with something else—uncertainty. I couldn't let myself get too comfortable.

Not yet.

Not with Christian still in the picture. But for now, I would take this win. I would hold onto it as tightly as I could because God knew how fleeting it might be.

I opened a new document and began typing something different. This wasn't for my novel—this was for me. My journal. A place where I could spill out my thoughts without fear of judgment or manipulation.

"What happens when freedom comes with strings attached?" I typed, watching the words appear on the screen. "When the taste of victory is sweet but laced with bitterness, because you know the person who let you win is just waiting to pull you back under?"

I paused, my heart racing as I let the thought sink in. Christian had let me go this time, but it was only a matter of time before the other shoe dropped. I knew it. I had seen it in his eyes when he had backed down—how much it had hurt him to relinquish control, even for a moment.

"Freedom is never free. Not when you're with someone like him."

I continued writing, my fingers moving faster now as I poured out everything that had been building inside me for weeks.

"The rules may be gone, but the real cage still exists. It's not the rules that bind me—it's the hold he has over me. The way he knows just how to pull me back, just how to make me feel like I can't live without him. It's the way he makes me feel like he's giving me the world, but all I really want is my own world, separate from his."

I stopped typing and stared at the words. The truth of it all hung there, raw and undeniable. Christian would never give me true freedom, not unless I fought for it. This moment—this victory—was just a small crack in the cage. But I was going to need more than cracks. 

I needed to break it wide open.

A soft knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. My heart leapt into my throat as Christian stepped into the room, his eyes searching mine. For a moment, I thought he might have seen what I was writing. I quickly minimized the document, my pulse quickening.

He smiled, but there was something guarded in his expression, a shadow of uncertainty that told me he was still unsettled.

"How's the writing going?" he asked, his tone casual.

"Good," I replied, forcing a smile. "I'm making progress."

He nodded, stepping closer, his gaze flickering to my laptop for a split second before returning to me. "I'm glad. You seem... happier."

"I am," I said, and for once, it wasn't a lie.

But even as I spoke, I couldn't shake the feeling that this happiness was fragile—something that could shatter the moment Christian decided the game was over.

I watched him as he sat on the edge of the bed, still trying to read me, still trying to figure out where we stood. He didn't say anything more, just sat there in the quiet, and I realized that this was part of the pattern. The waiting, the silence before the next storm. I had to stay ahead of it.

He's watching.

He's waiting.

And I have to be ready.

For now, though, I would take my small victory, hold onto this fragile moment of peace, and keep writing—both in my novel and in my journal. Because I knew that sooner or later, Christian would come for me again. And this time, I needed to be prepared.