The 28th Stop [ Yandere x Reader ]

26 - Reprisal

Dyed lavender strands brushed against the headboard of the chair, occasionally getting stuck by the chipped wood that jutted out. The ceiling became increasingly fascinating the more Asher stared at it. Aside from the flaking plaster and grime that caked its surface, there were subtle patches of dark brown smeared in several places. The same blotches were also present on the walls and, if he looked hard enough, on the cement floor.

Had Asher been a normal person, he wouldn't have noticed their striking resemblance to blood splatters - namely their resemblance to those from a stabbing.

'Someone did a bad job at cleaning up.' He snorted, spotting a couple more scratches and...was that a handprint on the far wall? 'Wow. A really bad job, alright.'

Goosebumps prickled his pale skin, as another involuntary shiver crawled up his back. Was the room always this cold? The chilling temperature and atmosphere reminded him of the photocopier room behind the newspaper centre. The same one tied with the rumours those irritating editors were alluding to - where, upon entering it, one was meant to see red on their hands and the light turning off, while hearing eerie moans.

'Where did those rumours come from anyway?' he thought, when–

"Asher?"

Said boy flinched at the vociferation and swung his head to the door, now open, where his eyes laid upon the very girl who constantly buzzed in his head. Were his senses playing tricks on him; projecting the fantasy in his mind's eye onto the plane of reality? He bit hard into the chafed flesh of his bottom lip. Upon receiving a tiny shock of pain, his heart thumped.

You really were here.

As soon as he made eye contact with you, he saw you running towards him.

'Is she...here to help?'

Arriving at arm's length, you gripped his shoulders. 

"Ash, you–" You gasped. "What did they do to you?"

Slowly, your hand reached up to caress the superficial scratches that marred his flushed cheeks. Along the side of his face and under his right eye, various patches of pale skin split into small yet jagged streaks of dried blood. To your relief, there was no significant swelling or bruising that would have indicated an underlying fracture. Under your fingers, you felt the skin grow warm and clammy.

You switched your attention back to Asher's eyes and saw him already staring at you.

"I'm fine, Y/N," he breathed, rubbing his cheek into your hand, "especially now that you're here."

Ignoring his mildly uncomfortable action, you asked, "Wellington did this, didn't–"

"Your soft skin...your sweet scent..." Angling his face such that his nose touched your palm, he dragged a deep inhale. "Ahh, I missed–"

You snatched your hand away.

"Can you not?" With a sigh, you repeated, "Wellington did this, didn't he?"

"Eh, he only landed a slap or two. But that's not important, now that...now that you're..." His smile dropped. Gradually, the initial euphoria that clouded his rationality dispersed and a wave of realisation befell him. Eyes wide, a look of alarm crossed his face. "Why are you here?! I-I told you I'll be fine."

"Oh yeah?" You gestured over his bindings. "You call this 'fine'?"

"I would've gotten out of this sometime soon, but that doesn't matter. Did you meet Wellington? What did he say? What did he–" Noticing the bloodied bandages around your head, a hot rage flared in his chest. "Did he do that?! Heh, that bastard is so..."