Country of Countrymen [Yandere! Males! X F! Reader] | under editing

Aᴅᴇ'ꜱ Eɴᴅɪɴɢ

                [F/n] fixed Chaz a stern look, annoyed by the untroubled countenance. “I demand to see Ade,” she said once more, resolved in her decision.

          He remained quiet, dark eyes roving on her features that was set to look at him with pure determination in her choice. A heavy feeling burdened his chest. Exhaling out the tension, he placed his palm on her cheek, placing his forehead against hers as he closed his eyes.

          Uncomfortable, she pressed her back against the wall.

          No words were exchanged. Somehow, his gesture transferred a message of understanding to her, like he was accepting her decision. A tiny part of her wished to thank his level of empathy, but remained as a mere thought.

          “Your choice is out of my offer,” Chaz spoke up, his voice small, “but I’ll see what I can do.” Without wasting anymore time, he grabbed her elbow and pulled her out of the room. Together, they walked the corridor in silence. The portraits stared with eerily painted eyes.

          [F/n] could feel his gentle grasp. She looked up at him, observing the neutral expression on his visage. “Chaz, what’s happening to the Country?” She asked softly, picking up on the sound of her heart and footsteps.

          “It’ll be a monarchial country, that’s all I can say,” he replied shortly, showcasing a small smile.

          Figuring that he was keeping it a secret, she kept quiet about it. After a short walk, she was led inside Ade’s office. She didn’t visit it often, but she had been here.

          The blond male was sitting at his desk, scribbling furiously on paper. Head down, Ade wasn’t aware of the two presence in the room until Chaz decided to leave them be.

          “I’ll be back,” Chaz informed shortly, then left, closing the door behind him.

          Despite being held captive, [F/n] secretly appreciates the dark-haired male in some ways. She stood before Ade’s desk as he slowly lifted his eyes to see her.

          “[F/n],” he spoke breathlessly, rising from his chair. Going around the desk, his arms reached out for her and embraced her longingly. “Did he hurt you? Did he touch you somewhere?” Pulling away, Ade’s eyes roamed all over her face and body, his hands itching to feel for scars that might fuel his rage for Chaz.

          Quiet, [F/n] comforted him with a smile. “I’m fine.”

          They talked for a bit, but Ade was mostly quiet. [F/n] discerned that he was at his worst. He had lost everything: his sister and father, his position, and his country. Though his mother is still around, he never voiced out his worry about her.

          When night arrived, someone knocked on the door, alerting them.

          It opened on its own. Through a small gap, Leroy peeped in. “S-sir, let’s go,” he spoke nervously, then looked away to check if someone was following him.

          Shocked, [F/n] turned to Ade. He made his way to her, grabbed her arm, and left the room, softly locking it. On the desk, he left the note that he had been writing on, entitled To Whom It May Concern. It contained an essay of insults towards the new rulers of the Country, especially to Chaz Jamcharly.

          They followed Leroy quietly until they reached the corridor leading to [F/n]’s room. Stopping before the image of the former president Jasinda Willove, Leroy handed Ade a little key. The blond male inserted it to the hidden hole on the letter “o” of the Willove.