Through The Mouth (Yandere Mafiatale SansX Reader) SECOND ACT

The Actual Chapter 12: Anguish

"No... " My voice let out faintly, feeling stupid, guilty, childish. But he still held onto me, "I insist" he mumbled, bringing me closer to him. As he picked me up, and brought me back to the bed, my eyes didn't dare look at his demonic-looking pits for eyes, instead, I kept my attention only to my shoulder. The sheets that once felt warm and comforting had only felt cold once he laid his hands on them, and as the time grew longer, it only grew colder, as if I was locked in a freezer all over again, but this time, with a far-rotten husk of a corpse.

No....

"Do you know..." he started to mumble quietly "how much I do for you?... care for you?...." he said, as his tone grew more nervous yet tired as he drew each word "love you?" He asked, bringing his mouth down to my neck...

"No...." was all I could answer with, as everything grew silent again. He brought his head out only to look back at me with a expression of heart ache, before looking away, taking a deep breath, resting his head back on the bed, and closing his eyes, as if he was hiding himself from me with his eyelids.

As the hand on the clock drew farther around itself, my mind still stayed awake, his boney hands still held a firm grip over myself, as if he had taken his last breath holding me in a death-lock. My mind began to race and swim through thoughts after he had faded away, it started glazing over the ideas that made me actually feel happy, that made me feel calm, safe at last. What did I want? To be set free of course. Yet, how else would I do that...

Running or escaping.. those began to become lost causes, if they weren't already. Wearing a mask of charm and kindness, acting like what he wants from me only seems to put my sentence in this cell even longer.... unless. Yes. My mind started dancing, cheering like a maniac, my heart had beaten rapidly over this thought, the ends of my mouth couldn't help but to rise slightly from this impossible thought that I loved so much in this hour of anguish.

It would be the morning. Possibly early afternoon as I imagined going into the bathroom, and running the water in the bath. Or possibly I was in the kitchen and I would be doing dishes, somewhere that would be near the sink. My fake voice would call him over to me,and once he finally came, this is my favorite part, I would dunk his head into the sink. Wait, and wait while pressing my palms down onto his skull, far into the water with the same death-lock grip he gives me.

I would have my hair tucked behind my ears, just so I could hear loud and clear his last, screaming breaths, his desperate attempts to keep alive, my shaky, excited hands would wait until no more bubbles came out of the water, and my eyes would wait for his body to become limp, before letting it fall all the way, down into the ocean of a tub.

How I longed to actually see that impossible, irrational stunt actually happen. My mind replayed it over in my head, again and again, over and over, until I finally fell to the calming slumber I felt like I had finally deserved after all of this.