━━━━━ yandere!husband x 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞!reader
↳ ❝ I LOVE TO WATCH YOU DANCE, BUT I HATE TO SEE YOU RUN. ❞
|| Felix Sinclair knew Y/n. He knew his favourite colour, he knew how he liked his steak best, his favourite wine, and his favourite brand of cigar...
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CHAPTER EIGHT. 【第八】 ( LEAVE A COMMENT AS YOU READ ! )
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[ PAST ]
Dinners with Felix could be a sordid affair. It wasn't literally dirty (that would have been the opposite, really, for Felix was a clean freak: a germaphobe who detested even the slightest spillage) — but it was sordid in the sense that Felix would pry and constantly ask about Y/n's home life.
Felix's eyes would gleam as he asked Y/n questions, and it made the (h/c)-haired male suspect that Felix knew something — that he had investigated him. When Felix asked questions, he already knew the answers. It was simply that Felix wanted to confirm the facts or theories.
The sounds of the metal clanking with the metal (Felix loved a good steak, but Y/n always found it terribly annoying to saw through the meat with the knife) was punctuated with yet another question from the man: "are you close to your parents? Would you say you love them?"
...What an unnecessarily heavy question.
Y/n scowled. Unlike Felix's constant insistence for him to school his expressions, Y/n never bothered about with it. After all, in the face of such probing questions, Y/n couldn't help but hide his contempt.
"What," he sneered, "is this an investigation?"
"It's a harmless question. You might as well answer it."
Y/n caught the look in Felix's eyes. It was a warning not to step out of line. Y/n gripped his knife tighter and shoved a piece of steak into his mouth so that he wouldn't have to answer. But when he finished chewing, Felix was looking at him expectantly.
"Are you done with your childish tantrums?" Felix asked in clipped tones.
"I'm not close with them," Y/n said honestly, "I don't give a rat's ass about them."
Now Felix was smiling, even at Y/n's vulgar language. "Why, might I ask?"
Y/n took a long drink of his wine, hoping that he would become drunk enough to continue this conversation. The scowl deepened on his face.
"They didn't agree with me being a dancer. My father was severely against it. Never knew they cared so much about me until then," Y/n scoffed. "But I don't see them anymore. Haven't heard from them — they abandoned me."
Felix looked at Y/n strangely then. To the (h/c)-haired male's annoyance, Y/n couldn't exactly discern what lied in his expression. Was it skewed amusement? Was it delight? Was it surprise? Was it a moment of enlightenment? Just what was it?
"Haven't heard from them," Felix repeated, lips curving into a smile, "haven't heard from them, I wonder..."
