Hell House (Yandere x reader) (complete)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-three

You spent a few hours on your bed, unable to sleep. It was strange how you could be in a house with at least two love interests, and yet you still felt alone. You felt restricted and unsure—you felt isolated. As if on instinct, your mind wandered to Quince. Sleeping always seemed easier when someone else was around; you wondered if he would mind letting you nap with him...

Your fist hit his door, the sound was strong, but you felt weak. You desperately needed someone to talk to—someone you could feel soft and okay with. You felt vulnerable and it frightened you. You needed Quince to reassure you like he usually does.

The door opened after just a moment to reveal just the man you had been looking for. The relief on your face was visible. "(y/n)," he greeted. "Is there anything you needed help with?"

You tilted your head downward, your embarrassment beginning to settle in. Quince thought it was adorable. You spoke, "I just wanted to be with you if that's okay."

"Of course it's ok," he grinned, opening the door wider so you could get in. "What would you like to do?"

"It's embarrassing," you trailed off as you walked in his room. You instantly felt a little more comfortable and a little safer. "Can we... nap together?"

For a very rare moment, you got to see a flush settle over Quince's face. You almost laughed at the sight but figured your own cheeks were tinged red as well. Being in the house could be isolating—you missed the regular cuddles of life on earth. Quince gently took a hold of your wrist and pulled you to his bed, "Of course we can." You noticed how he parroted himself. He was often so accommodating to you and your requests, the 'of course!' falling from his lips reassured you. You nestled yourself beside him, with your face resting on his chest. You sighed contentedly and let your eyes gently close.

"Did you have any dreams while you were alive?" you asked, mumbling into his shirt as he pulled a blanket around the two of you.

"Well, I still have dreams when I sleep now. Don't you?" 

"You know what I mean," you would've rolled your eyes if they weren't closed. "Like for your life? For your future, before you died?"

He hummed thoughtfully, "I did have one dream. It was often hard to find a reason to do anything, but there was one thing that kept me pushing forward, no matter what."

"What was it?" you pushed.

"I wanted a small house on a hill by a lake...and the pasture of land around the house to be full of flowers. I dreamed that I shared my house with the person I would love until the end of my days, and we would be happy. I think really what I wanted was to hum happily as I did the dishes and my spouse put away the leftovers from the meal we cooked together. There might be a cat that always sat on the counter, no matter how often we told it to get down. Definitely a window over the kitchen sink with some herbs growing in little flower pots..." he trailed off. "I wanted to be happy to be alive, and I especially wanted to feel loved and be in love."

In the middle of all that, you felt tears spring to your eyes. He wanted a simple life, and he would never have it. It felt unfair—it was unfair. "Were you ever close to getting there?" you sniffled. At the sound, Quince sat up on his elbows slightly, causing you to slip from your spot slightly.

"Are you crying? Why?" Quince looked worried. He sat up completely and pulled you into a hug, "What's wrong?"

"I'm just sad that you couldn't have what you dreamed of," you admitted. "It sounded nice."