SERAPHIC. g i

Al Haitham↬Delirium

yandere!al haitham x gn!reader

Click.

The window pane stepped aside for the chilly night air to waltz through, albeit lacking the cool of one ; the glass structure swayed, the timbre of its brazen dance howled throughout the dead of the night. Goosebumps rose on your exposed skin, all of your senses eager to relish in a bygone, snatched luxury.

You took a deep breath as if to remember, accumulate all injustice enacted upon you— as if to gather the merciless, unfair cutting off yellowed and spotted leaves and perceived hostile thorns by a gardener expecting nothing short of perfection, by your husband ; so that all that'd be left is a beautiful rose, to be admired as however the gardener pleased and so incapable of defense, stripped of its natural charm, waiting to wither away —and you breathed out to rid yourself of the burden, the filth.

If you had not been the human that you were and instead a songbird perhaps trapped likewise unfairly—no, you are that songbird at the face of freedom, blinking and making sure this was not a ploy borne of its captor's boredom, too distrustful due to its period of captivity or much worse, a distorted delusion. However, as much as you're like that hopeless songbird, you're also not, because you broke your own cage instead of the entrance opening itself ; an action that rises the suspicion of its existence but you're too caught up in your victory to nurture that now.

A parallel paints itself : the songbird takes one step towards the cage door with faint hesitation, you swing your leg over the window's lintel and grab onto a glitching place you think is the ledge itself to establish support and when the edges of grass tickles your toes you're more eager than ever to take a full leap to freedom's embrace, the songbird's pace speeds up and the distance to the open entrance shrinks, it unfurls its wings and the feathers straighten with excitement, with hope. It jumps in full preparation to take flight, promising a better tomorrow to itself and no mercy to its captor, it sees the light and it can hear the wind's calling just a breath away as the entrance slams shut.

(A force too strong to promise good snatches you back from freedom's longing embrace, again.)

Adrenaline and senses mix and merge in an incomprehensible miscellany, they stay static to a momentary dark and then blurrily reveal silver light. You try to blink away the dampness clinging to the corners of your eyes and gain control over your breathing, recognizing the inability to do so by the iron clasp around your body and you being firmly pressed to a solid thorax.

It takes you two seconds to process the reality and another two to confirm Alhaitham's uncomfortable hold.

Right.

He must've sensed your restlessness, bringing you even closer if possible and shifting his head to your nape, his gray locks tickle your skin and you hear a faded mumble of something — confirming that this was, in fact, the reality and the exhilarating experience of breaking the cage a delirium borne of your crumbling sanity.

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