Favorite Fixation (Yandere boys x Reader)

94.) Ethereal

In the stillness of the room, with only the faint hum of the night outside, (Y/n) lay deeply asleep, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Tonight, she'd given in to the comfort of her bed, a rare occurrence after so many nights spent curled up on the cold bathroom floor. Exhaustion had claimed her, leaving her defenses down in a way that would make her uneasy if she knew.

The door creaked open, and in slipped a blond figure, his shadow flickering in the faint moonlight that leaked through the window. Kai stood there for a moment, watching her, his gaze tender yet intense. There was something almost reverent about the way he looked at her, as though she were a delicate painting he could only admire from afar.

He moved closer, letting the door shut gently behind him. Each step was soft, careful not to break the quiet that wrapped around her like a cocoon. When he finally reached her bedside, he knelt, bringing himself to eye level with her sleeping form. Her face was peaceful, untouched by the guarded expressions she wore in daylight. The vulnerability struck him, her tired features reminding him of every challenge they'd thrown her way, every sleepless night, every ache, every scar, including the ones he'd left himself.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against her cheek, barely making contact. Her skin was warm, and he paused, resting his palm there, feeling the faint pulse beneath his fingers. His gaze drifted, catching on the large, inconsistent scars he bore across his own hand and forearm, the reminders of the night she'd lashed out, desperate and furious as he'd tried to pull her from this world into another. He didn't regret what he'd done that night, not entirely; he just wished he'd done it differently. Maybe if he'd approached it with more caution, with her unconscious or unaware, things wouldn't have gone so wrong.

Did he regret that night? In part, perhaps. But even now, he couldn't deny the thrill it had given him. She was unyielding, and in his twisted way, he admired that. If he had to do it again, he would have done it differently, maybe waited until she was like this, vulnerable and calm, until he could carry her off without the fight, without the sting of betrayal in her eyes.

Kai shook his head, dispelling the thoughts that lingered on the edge of his conscience. No, he told himself. She loved him, even if she didn't know how to show it. He'd seen it in those rare, unguarded glances, in the way she lingered near him, even if her words never quite matched her actions. To him, that was proof enough. She was his, even if the world around them didn't understand it.

In the dim glow of the moonlight, Kai reached down to gently caress (Y/n)'s cheek, his fingers tracing her soft skin as if she might vanish the moment he withdrew his touch. A loose strand of her hair had fallen over her face, and he carefully brushed it back, his fingertips brushing her skin so lightly it felt like a whisper. His gaze lingered on her sleeping face, calm and unguarded, the world's worries finally absent from her features.

He could spend hours like this, watching over her, memorizing the delicate slope of her nose, the curve of her lips as she breathed in and out, each gentle breath drawing him closer into his own thoughts. How perfect it would be, he mused with a faint smile, if we could be together always. The idea of their graves side by side flickered through his mind like an exquisite, unspoken promise. To lie side by side, their bones embraced even in death, where time couldn't steal her away from him- where nothing could.

But his smile faltered, the faint pang of doubt surfacing. Did he deserve her? Could someone like him, who had lied and manipulated to keep her close, ever truly be worthy? The guilt gnawed at him, a restless ache that refused to quiet. He'd never wanted to deceive her, not really, but he would do anything to keep her in his life. His voice whispered in his mind, soft but steady, Everything I did was out of necessity, he told himself, clinging to the words as if they could absolve him of the darkness he'd dragged her into.