Dealing with the Devil [Yandere x Reader]

Chapter 67 - Stay

The day had been long, and I had barely slept the night before, my mind too caught up in the growing anxiety that came with the book's sudden success. I should have felt proud, excited even. But instead, the creeping feeling of dread clung to me like a shadow I couldn't shake.

It wasn't just the praise that came with the book's rise; it was the attention, the way people were starting to look a little too closely. Their curiosity was like fingers tugging at loose threads, unravelling everything I had worked so hard to keep hidden.

The last thing I needed was more eyes on me. I didn't need anyone seeing what lay beneath the surface of the story I had crafted, the story I was living.

That's when the message from Muse came through.

"Hey, let's do a video call and catch up. I've been meaning to chat about the book's success and what comes next. We need to talk about where this ride is taking you."

A small flutter of excitement ran through me as I read her words. Muse was more than just a famous author to me—she was a mentor, someone who had already navigated the strange, chaotic world of fame and public scrutiny. Her advice, though sometimes cryptic and sharp, was a lifeline. In some ways, I looked up to her like a beacon of clarity in a sea of confusion. And now, maybe she could help me navigate this too—this uncomfortable closeness people were starting to seek with me.

As I set up my laptop in the living room, I felt a faint awareness of Christian nearby. He had been quieter than usual today, absorbed in his own work, but I knew that wouldn't last. His silence was never permanent.

As I opened the video call with Muse, I could hear him moving around in the bedroom, a reminder that even in moments of freedom, I was never truly alone.

Muse appeared on the screen, effortlessly composed, her sharp smile already tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Y/N," she greeted brightly, her energy contagious. "Busy girl! You've been making waves."

I smiled back, though it felt weaker than I intended. "Yeah... it's been a lot. The book's success caught me off guard."

Her eyebrow arched, that knowing look of hers sharpening.

"Surprised? You shouldn't be. You wrote something people needed to read. But fame," she paused, her expression shifting, "comes with its own set of problems, doesn't it?"

The lump in my throat tightened.

Yes

it does.

Fame wasn't what I had expected.

It wasn't just people reading my words—it was people pulling apart my life, looking for more, demanding pieces of me I wasn't ready to give. But instead of saying that, I forced a light laugh.

"It's overwhelming," I admitted. "I'm trying to adjust."

Muse leaned in, her smile fading as her eyes softened, though her gaze was still intense.

"Y/N," she said, her tone dropping, "why do you stay?"

The question hit me like a punch to the gut. I blinked, thrown off balance.

"What do you mean?" I asked, though I knew exactly what she was asking.

Muse leaned back, folding her arms across her chest, her eyes never leaving mine.

"Why do you stay with him? I've read your book. I've heard the way you talk about control, possession, obsession. I've seen the look in your eyes when you mention him. So, why?"