Favorite Fixation (Yandere boys x Reader)

117.) Recrudescence

The pocketknife, cold and heavy, pressed against the inside of her hoodie. (Y/n)'s fingers trembled as she tucked it into the fabric, her hands slick with blood. Her thigh burned, the gash Asahi had inflicted now an open wound, throbbing with every step she took. The pain had faded to a dull ache for now, but the shock was still there, lingering like a fog in her brain. Every breath felt heavy, her heart a slow, steady drum in her chest, a reminder of how close she had come to being victim to the gray haired boy. 

But she wasn't dead yet. And she wasn't going to lie down and wait to be finished off. No. She had something now.

She glanced out the small window just across from the room, her eyes catching the soft, steady fall of snow outside. It was like the world was blanketed in white, so peaceful, so serene, so different from everything inside this house. For a moment, she allowed herself to take in the sight, the gentle fall of snowflakes against the glass. It made the world feel... removed, as though the horrors inside this house didn't quite belong in the same universe as the calm, frozen outside world.

Her legs wobbled with exhaustion as she limped toward the bathroom, the cold of the floor biting into her bare feet as she moved past the discarded clothes and broken furniture. Asahi's bathroom came into view, and she stepped into the threshold, her eyes darting around. The room was just as filthy as she expected. The floor was covered in dirty towels, discarded clothes, and wrappers from snacks. A half-empty bottle of shampoo was tipped over by the edge of the sink, its contents spilling across the counter in a thick, gooey mess.

Her face was a mess, a grotesque canvas of blood and bruises. There were dark red smears across her cheek, a stark contrast against her skin, and a thick streak of crimson running from her temple down to her chin. Her cheekbone throbbed where Asahi had punched her, a dull ache that pulsed with every breath. Before, she might have flinched at the sight of herself, been horrified, maybe even disgusted. But now, she just stared, blank-faced.

She turned on the faucet, the cold water rushing out in sharp contrast to the heat that had built up in her chest. She dunked her hands under the stream, scrubbing the blood away. It took a moment for the water to run clear, each drop an exhale she didn't know she'd been holding. She washed her face slowly, the blood mixing with the water in swirling reds, watching as the swirls stained the sink. Her breath was ragged, but she kept going. She couldn't afford to think too much about what had happened, about the people she had lost, the lives that had been torn apart by her cruelty.

When her face was clean, she turned her attention to her leg. The gash on her thigh was still bleeding, but it had slowed down, the sharp sting of the wound fading under the layers of shock and adrenaline that kept her moving. She grabbed a towel from the pile of discarded laundry in the corner and wrapped it around her leg, pressing down to stop the bleeding. The cloth quickly soaked through with blood, but she kept it in place, tying it tightly as a makeshift bandage. It was far from perfect, but it was enough to get her through.

When she finished, she took a deep, shaky breath. Her hands were still wet, but she didn't have time to care. She flicked the light off, the sudden darkness in the room almost comforting.

She limped out of the bathroom, her bloodied leg dragging behind her, each step a reminder of the pain she was trying to ignore. The house felt colder now, like it was holding its breath, waiting. Every creak of the floorboard beneath her seemed louder than the last.

But there was only one person left in the house now.

Yuuto.

(Y/n) flinched as she passed the closet, her eyes inadvertently falling to the figure lying on the floor. The dim red glow of the flashlight cast long, eerie shadows over the room. And there, sprawled across the floor, was Asahi. His feet, pale and lifeless, were illuminated by that same unsettling hue. For a moment, the blood rushed to her ears, her heart beating a little faster in her chest.