Limerence ❀ Yandere!Males x Reader

entry #71 | єяåѕє

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"Is he going to be okay?"

Tristan closed the door behind him as he reentered the room and pulled his gloves on. His eyes flickered to hers at her question. "Physically, yes," he confirmed sternly. "You don't have to worry about him, my dear. This kind of thing happens often."

Physically...? She was sitting on a stool next to the unconscious white-haired male. Kieran was swathed with pillows and blankets and there was a cooling pad on his forehead. His face still looked unusually pink and sweat beaded on his skin before rolling down his neck. 

"What does he usually do when this happens?" She decided to ask. "I've never seen him like this before."

"It'd not usually this bad," Tristan agreed with a sigh. He took a seat on a stool beside her and rested his elbow on the table. "As for what he does...it's better you don't know. He'll be fine. Let him rest."

She waited for him to elaborate but he didn't say anything else. She turned her attention back to the sleeping male, a stitch of worry pulling her eyebrows together in apprehension. The lost look on his face and hollowness in his eyes she'd seen just moments before—she recognized that look. It was the same look she had. It was the look of someone hurting.

Under her pretense of being strong-willed and unfaltering despite Jaehyun's pressuring, (Y/n) felt like she was about to crumble at any moment. As she sat in the cage all she could think about was the man in white and all those lost children crammed into one tiny cage with her. The ones that were there longest all had dull, colorless orbs. They were like dolls, almost. Living dolls. Every day the ones that just arrived would live in fear that they'd be next. That they'd become nothing but hollow husks for the men in white to cut open and put back together.

(Y/n) was one of the luckier ones. She survived the Bellua Project. But the scars would never fade, especially the ones that were carved into her mind like stitches.

She never really remembered the man in white's face but seeing Jaehyun's crazed expression smiling back at her through the bars...bits and pieces of her muddle memory seemed to come together and form a face. A blurred face that greatly resembled Jaehyun's.

Bile had risen up her throat and she wanted to puke. To scream, cry, run—anything. But she couldn't. All of a sudden she was back in The Cage from nearly a decade ago. Surrounded by broken bodies, beeping heart monitors, and lines of men in white who file into the dirty space just to grab another child when the one they were currently using died. 

Even now she kept hiding and choking down her feelings. She covered up all her wounds with bandages, applying new ones when they fell off. It was a miracle she was able to continue looking at Jaehyun's face without her fear getting the best of her.

Though she had to remember: too many storms could burst any dam.

Tristan watched her with an unreadable expression on his face before he cleared his throat to break the silence and turned to the door. "You need to return to your room," he informed the (h/c)-haired girl, his expression pinched. "I have things to attend to and I need to leave, but I can not do so until you're there. Fujikawa will be fine."

She tore her eyes away from her hands and nodded mutely. His eyebrows lifted at how strangely obedient she was being. Suspicion drew his expression into a frown but he didn't comment on her behavior. Maybe it's just shock, he reasoned. Or is she's really planning something, he'd just have to wait and see.

Whatever she was up to, she would fail in the end. There is no game Tristan cannot win.

His mind was heavy with stress and doubt as he escorted her back to her room, the entire journey quiet. No one had the heart to speak. His heart only sunk more as he secured both locks on the door. It wasn't just because of what he just saw—well, that too. Kieran was always better with words and manipulating people's hearts to his favor. People naturally drifted towards him under the pull of his seductive, sugar-coated words that promised nothing but lies and half-truths. Tristan was more direct and cutting with his words, manipulating the mind rather than the heart.