Our Midnight Game §Rewrite§ || Yandere Male X Reader/Oc ||

Prologue

You're reading this at your own risk as the story contains explicit mature content. 

                                          ↓ Our Midnight Game ↓

      ⎾My Father Met a Woman . . ⏌

••••••

"Young master, Satoshi-sama requests your presence at his office," a girl attired in a maid uniform stood demurely at the doorway, her eyes respectfully lowered to the floor. 

There was a tranquilizing piano music playing in the background, adding to the pacifying atmosphere as the sunlight drifted magnificently through the window's meticulously cleaned glass, stretching brilliantly into the room and stopping just barely at the edge of a Calabria brown upholstered italian queen size bed where a person could be easily seen reclining. It was a young man appearing to be in his early twenties.

He was diabolically handsome. The statement could be validated by how the maid was struggling to keep her eyes on the ground as she feared that if her gaze were to raise, she'd blatantly start ogling him. Similarly to what her former fellow maid did a month ago.

Former. Because she was fired.

The reminder only served to bolster her disintegrating resolution to not look and revere the empyrean beauty ahead of her. She prompted her attention to be everywhere else but him; The silky drapes of the arched windows, their white frames starkly standing out on the pitch black wallpaper. The opened walk-in closet exposing a dizzying amount of clothes within. The glass of champagne on the small table. The sofa holding a MacBook that was connected to the charger and had the page of a half-written document open for all to see along with a tab of a video in the browser, it was where the piano music coming from. The cell phone displaying the caller ID of a phone call, the picture being a beautiful blonde haired woman smiling saucily, there was no ringtone as the device was muted.

A sigh abruptly interrupted the continuous music and her distraction, followed by the sound of a book being shut. The Young Master was a reader, the bookshelves bearing both new and worn books verifying the known fact. "What does he want?"

The maid resisted shuddering at the voice, deep and smooth like the honey she would occasionally taste to feel it sweeten her tongue. It was as beautiful as the owner's face and that was really, really unfair. Fighting off the blush threatening to show on her cheeks, she hurried to respond. "I'm afraid I don't know, Young Master. He didn't inform me o–"

"Alright," the young master cut her off uncaringly, his form getting off the luxurious bed and standing up, her peripheral vision allowed her to see as much when she raised her chin. 

"Are there guests in the room with him?"

"To my knowledge, there aren't any guests, Young Master."

"I see," displeasure coated his tone, sending the maid's nerves into chaos as she carefully froze. The Young Master had a remarkable reputation of firing servants just because his temper was sour, and those happenings transpire way too often, unfortunately. To her relief, he didn't say anything scary like you're fired. He merely let out another irritated sigh and went on to leave the room.

"God damn it, every single time.." the mumble reached her ears, incomplete, as the tall man passed her. She dared to peek at him, catching how his powerful, well-muscled body moved with an alluring grace and how the dark tendrils of his hair curled on his forehead. A whiff of his acute, attractive cologne tickled her nose, conquering the fight of her refusal to blush.

Her face lit up like a neon red traffic sign. The instant she could hear his footsteps were far enough, she raised her hands to her warm cheeks and muffled her squeal by pressing her lips shut tightly.