Sickly Sweet- Yandere!malesxreader

29 "Questions And Answers."

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No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't steady her shaking hands. She couldn't calm her breathing. She couldn't stop thinking dark thoughts.

"This isn't... I'm going to die here.. I'm really going to die here..!" She mumbled to herself, tugging at her restraints. She hissed as they dug into her wrists.

She was exhausted and bleeding. The teen felt like curling up and dying. It was too much for her to adjust to. She needed support and warmth, but was getting nothing.

"Y/n, are you awake down here?"

"No.. Go away." She said bluntly.

"I have food for you, darling."

"Didn't you hear me? I don't want anything from you." Xavier sighed, sitting next to the hopeless girl.

"Please, just make something easy for me. I'm in a lot of pain, I'm tired, I just need you to comply." His voice was raw and scratchy, as if he was trying not to cry.

"What do you have for me?" She asked, raising her eyes to meet his. He smiled happily.

"It's just pasta. I didn't have much time to prepare anything." He said. He sounded embarrassed by the simplicity of the meal.

"Thanks.."

"Oh, and another thing. Thomas wanted me to give this to you. You don't have to take it if you don't want to." He said, handing her the small pill.

"What is it?"

"It's for anxiety. He takes them too." She stared at it in contemplation.

"You won't tell if I don't take it?"

"I won't."

"Great. Do you mind if I hold onto it? I might want it later."

"Knock yourself out. I'll be back in a few hours, my love." He spoke, untying her hands.

She stretched her arms, relieved to be set free. She knew it wouldn't last, but she was grateful.

She watched as he closed the door, leaving her in the darkness of the basement. Y/n wasted no time. She shot up from the floor, checking every surface for a way out.

After a few moments of search, she came upon a wooden door. She decided there was no room for hesitation, grabbing the door knob and turning it.

As she opened the door, her eyes lit up. In front of her was a small window, letting a small amount of light in. She ran towards it, not surprised to see it doesn't open. The teen groaned in frustration.

"What are ways I can use this room?" She thought out loud. Perhaps leverage? Maybe I can find something I can use to blackmail my way out of here.

She collected herself, gazing upon all of the dusty storage containers. They all seemed to have been sitting there for more than a year, except for one, which looked like it was opened fairly recently.

She grabbed the lid, tearing it off.  Inside were books with labels numbered 1-4. She picked up number four and read the first page.

"'A condition in which a person suffers from a sense of powerlessness, arising from a traumatic event or persistent failure to succeed. It is thought to be one of the underlying causes of depression.' This is how the dictionary defines learned helplessness. Is this what she's trying to do? Is she trying to make me dependent? What exactly is she trying to do?"

She gulped, immediately knowing who this journal belonged to. She pressed on, itching to find something she could use.

"I saw the most curious thing today. Outside there was a boy around my age. I'm used to seeing him with the others, but today he tried to talk to me. I wonder what he's like. I wonder if he thinks the same about me. I had to leave quickly or my grandmother would notice. I hope he shows up tomorrow. I want to try and talk to him again."