I'm Happy For Your Sorrow ~ Yandere Clemens Averink x Reader (Owlverse: Wardens)

~ Chapter 2 ~ Descent

Nothing can be heard in the halls of the manor at this point in the night. Matthew has since snuffed all the candles with his ability to control the manor's environment, so all the hallways were pitch dark. Only one room remains lit, and it is Clemens' room. He stands at his easel, an array of dark-coloured paints organized neatly on his palette. He figured he would calm down after today the way he always calmed down after a bad day. Painting. It is his haven from the hell he's trapped in. Most of his paintings consist of anger, torment, or apathy, but tonight was different.

He fully expected tonight to be the same old routine. Paint something gruesome to vent and then go to bed feeling mute. Without much thinking, he began to place some paint on the canvas. It starts normally as he paints the outline of a face. Who is going to be miserable this time? That's the game Clemens usually plays with these types of paintings. Sometimes he paints his twin brother Claude, his multitude of scars spanning across his body doused in bright red to announce how condemned he was without reason. Sometimes he paints he elder brother Erhard with a stoic stare that can't help but falter at the seams. A subtle display of guilt and regret from his elder brother for not being able to protect his siblings. Tonight, however, Clemens found himself using lighter colours than normal. He absent-mindedly paints the structure of the face, then he paints their eyes, then their hair, and then...their smile.

'What?' Clemens thought to himself.

He doesn't stop though, he allows his hand to continue its work until he sees the finished product. It's you. Your pretty smiling face. He looks long and hard at it, the silence in his room beginning to become deafening. At first he felt a strange sense of light-hearted peace. Your smile, he knows why everyone loves it. How could they not? After hundreds of years of monotony and repeating old memories, you gave them the hope of making new ones, and face the next day with at least a small glimmer of optimism.

Slowly but surely he felt his heart speed up. At first, it felt good. As if a rush of life entered his system seeing you so joyful and carefree. You look like an angel. But soon enough, that ugly burning feeling came back. Your smile...he can't fucking stand it. Hundreds of years worth of soaking in hatred now mean nothing. Not like he was suffering in silence for the sake of anyone else, but if you hadn't shown him a new path, he would at least consider his apathy and agony a necessity to his character. Even more, you're in the same cursed manor with the same broken individuals yet you somehow find the strength to make it better. No, you're supposed to be pathetic! You're just a stupid human who stumbled in. You're the one whose supposed to be crying and pleading for home or mercy. You shouldn't have such strength, not when they don't. 

Clemens did his best to keep his anger in check, but your voice kept coming back to him...

"I don't let it define me", you said to him.

'Really..? You don't let your anger take hold of you? Don't let your sadness overwhelm you? You don't let your emotions ruin you!?'

Clemens' mind fogged up with the same indescribable thoughts and feelings. Care, anger, hope, disgust, resentment, envy and more. He couldn't stand it. He slammed his thickest paintbrush harshly into the jet black paint, quickly chucking the soaked brush and the globs of paint that flew off it directly at the centre of the canvas. A harsh wet splat could be heard as the easel tipped backward from the impact. The painting falls to the floor. Your once smiling face has been covered in wet sloppy darkness. Clemens walked over to the painting, picking it up off the cold floor. Surprisingly, he felt another jolt of emotion course through his system.

'..!'

He studies the now ruined painting, but he thought it wasn't ruined at all. In fact, it was magnificent. Looking at your face covered in something other than a gentle smile caused him to feel some perverted type of satisfaction. You're not happy anymore. You're broken, just like him. Oddly enough, Clemens feels a small spark of enticing excitement as he had an idea. He set up the easel again, got another canvas from his closet, and places the medium-sized white square on the wooden stand. He begins to paint once more.