Blood Bouquet: Yandere Boys x Female! Reader

(vi) no other love in the world can compare to the one i have for you

Grabbing Rantaro's hand, you yank him forward and out of the place. You're both now back in the courtyard, and you heave a sigh of relief. You have no clue how Alice was able to rile Rantaro up so easily, but it is going to remain a problem you'll have to deal with for a long while. Especially since Alice is the director of the play, and Rantaro was going to have to comply if he wanted to act besides you.

Rantaro throws his arms around you and squeezes tight. You appreciate the hug, but he doesn't seem to want to let go.

"Let go," you say flatly.

"Mmmmm," Rantaro hums before pouting. "Don't wanna."

"Rantaro," you say, slightly louder this time.

He doesn't reply, instead opting to bury his face in the crook of your neck. He sighs gently and you smile to yourself before looping your arms around him and hefting him on to your back. You hear his rhythmic breaths, feel the soft air against your neck and realise he's sleeping. You find yourself subconsciously comparing the snoozing boy on your back to a little puppy, and smiling at the truth that thought held. Rantaro definitely was a clingy little puppy.

And surprisingly light, you notice. You don't actually recall seeing him eating much, and store that information away. You might want to deal with that problem later.

You, with Rantaro snoring snugly against the back of your neck, reach the comfy tree in the courtyard rather quickly. Your bags are still where you left them at lunchtime. You gently lower the slumbering boy, propping him up against the tree and placing his bag under his head as a makeshift pillow, then sit down by his side.

You justify the both of you skipping class by telling yourself that the day's almost over. You know, deep down, that you really just want to spend time with Rantaro, but to admit that would be a show of weakness, so you don't.

Rantaro's head slowly falls down from where you'd propped him up into your lap. You let it be, idly curling strands of his soft hair around your fingers and he snores softly. It surprises you just how shockingly domestic the scene is, but the atmosphere is rather comforting, so you leave it be.

The shrill ringing of the school bell jolts Rantaro awake. You look down at his surprised face, hands rapidly rubbing his eyes.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," you say, smiling at him. "Had a nice nap?"

"Angel?" Rantaro offered, reaching out to caress your face, blinking rapidly.

"No," you say, sighing. "It's me."

"So it is an angel!" He says, laughing, as he launches himself towards you to envelop you in his arms.

"We've got to get going," you say, voice muffled by Rantaro's cardigan. "You have a confession to answer."

"Mmmmm," Rantaro groans loudly. "I wanna sleep on you."

"You just took a two-hour nap on my thighs," you say, huffing. "I can't feel my legs anymore and I will gladly stomp on you to let them regain consciousness."

"Oh my god," he says, sighing dreamily. "Please step on me."

You shove him off, watching him eat dirt with a small smile on your face. You pick up both your bags, holding them in one of your hands, using the other to dust Rantaro off. He'd need to look presentable, of course, since he's answering a confession, after all.

"Now," you say, staring straight at him. "Get serious about this, alright? Consider their words, accept their confession. Stop worrying about and live your life."

"But, what if I-"

"No buts." You say firmly, gripping Rantaro's shoulder tightly. "There should be more to your world than me."

Rantaro doesn't seem particularly happy with the idea and looks at you with pleasing eyes. You don't relent, so he does. He throws his arms around you like it might be the last time he does, burying his face into the crook of your neck. He sighs deeply, but pulls away with a bright smile on his face.

"Look at that smile," you say, unable to stop yourself from smiling as well. "You could get anyone you want with that charm."

Rantaro grins wildly, sheepishly rubbing the nape of his neck, then grabs your hand and dashes off, pulling you in tow. The two of you reach the space mentioned in the letter, sheltered from the sweltering afternoon sun by the gentle branches of a tree dubbed the 'Confession Tree'.

Standing there is a girl clutching her school bag, a small smile on her face. The girl doesn't seem strikingly beautiful, not in the conventional sense, but the light in her eyes convey something else altogether. You can't tell if it's just the light playing tricks on your eyes, but it's likely that the glint in her gaze is powerful in a way one cannot usually hope to be. Her dark raven curls sway gracefully in the light breeze that seems to only enhance her, and she can't seem to meet your gaze when you try to make contact.

Rantaro approaches her, a smile on his face, and she shows no signs of wavering. She doesn't fidget, doesn't seem to be scared, shows no tell-tale blush or shortage of rational thought. She smiles politely at him, not coyly or lovingly, and extends a caramel coloured hand to shake his. He shakes it, chuckling.

"Rantaro," she says. "Do you know why you're here?"

He doesn't miss a beat. "I think I have a good idea."

She lets out a laugh, likely not expecting his response. He giggles good-naturedly.

"Well," she says, taking on a more serious tone. "Let me clear any such notion in your head."

"Rantaro, would you," she says, then takes a deep breath, pausing. "Lend me your friends who's tactfully hiding somewhere."

"What?" He says, unable to mask his shock.

"How vain," the girl says, narrowing her eyes at him. "But I shouldn't have expected more from a man."

"How ridiculously narcissistic one must have to be to think yourself more beautiful, more brilliant than my goddess."

She then calls your name, her eyes gleaming, her cheeks flushing.

"My goddess," she says, smile widening in bliss. "I wish you'd come out and grace me with your presence."

You show yourself, your interest piqued by the direction the conversation seemed to be heading in.

The girl, upon seeing your face, turns beet red. She averts her eyes once more, unable to meet your gaze even for a second. You look at her, not really knowing what to say.

"Would you," the girl speaks, in a low whisper. "Would you mind going out with me?"