Indecisive ((Yandere Cleo De Nile x F. Reader))

Chapter 17:

Cleo ran to her father immediately after school, not paying much mind to anything else. She barged in through his office door and stared at him. He glared at her.

"Sorry for interrupting your meeting, father." She nodded, acknowledging the multiple monsters sitting around his office space. "But this...this is serious."

He dropped his hands and sighed. "Everyone, out."

The guests stood and left immediately after his signal, all pushing past Cleo in a disregarding manner. she lowered her head and allowed them to pass. Her father waved her in. She shut the door behind her after the last monster had left and trudged to him.

"What? Make it quick. You ruined a presentation."

"On what?" She questioned.

"Nothing for you to worry about. Now what?!"

Cleo shrunk back. "A, uh, a friend of mine dropped out of school. I think there's someone after him. A-And I think that same person is after me, too."

Her father sat silently. "And what do you want me to do about it?"

He stepped away from her and walked over to his desk where a glass filled with a dark brown liquid sat. He picked up the glass and swirled it around.

She stood at a loss for words. He was supposed to help!

"I-I need to get away." She whispered. "Please, I need to get away!"

He sighed. "Is that all?"

She nodded. "I need to go somewhere I can't be found."

He took a swig of the liquid and made a face at it before setting the glass down.

"Don't get frantic." He rolled his eyes. "I'll have a house built for you if you need it."

Cleo's nerves calmed instantly. "Thank you so much!"

"But don't go running off to it unless it's absolutely necessary."

Cleo nodded. "Yes sir."

***

You ran from table to table, desperate to get every drink to every customer as quickly as possible. You had gotten quite a lot of tips already, but you didn't want to get distracted. You still had more money to make and more people to serve.

Ever since the news of Manny, your life had almost went back to normal. There were fewer nightmares and fewer spells of paranoia and fear. You had stopped looking over your shoulder as much, and even Jax could tell the difference.

However, you were still left with irreversible damage. You still struggled with the aftermath of what he had done to you, both mentally and physically. Your body felt even more drained with every day that came. Your head still pounded with headaches and the scratches that littered your stomach still burned every time you stepped in a shower.

As for your mental state, it was ruined. Your self image was torn, along with your purity and virginity. You felt used. You felt ruined. You felt like a whore. The way you held yourself and the way you dressed screamed for attention, but in reality you didn't want any. You wore your shirts sluttier and your pants tighter.

If you were a whore mentally, why not go the extra mile? If Manny wanted you to be a sex toy, why not look the part?

But the stares you received were agonizing.

You were constantly tugged between hiding away and accepting the title you had been given.

Consent didn't matter to you anymore. As a matter of fact, nothing did. Not Cleo, not school, not your mom, nothing.

But even with everything happening, nothing bothered you more than your realization. You were changing. You could feel it. Your personality, your humor, your thought process had all changed into something you loathed and accepted at the same time.

How could you feel two opposite emotions? You wanted to accept yourself, and you wanted to rip your skin to shreds. The change you endured was stressful to you.

And it made you angry. Angry at Manny for taking your consent and what little confidence you had. Angry at your mom for leaving you in a shitty trailer. Angry at Cleo for harassing you. Angry at yourself for letting it all happen.

You didn't ever want to fight it off. You just wanted it to stop. But when it did, you felt the raw aggression take over. All you had ever wanted was to have control of your own situation.

And finally you did. You controlled your clothes. You controlled your mood. You controlled your social circle and your family and those close to you. You noticed lots of changes, but the one that stood out the most was your change in power. Finally, you had the upper hand. And oh, how you loved it.

Jax noticed it too. You had become more snappy and irritable. You had become loud and reckless and out of control.

But he was proud. Proud that you were accepting yourself. Proud that you were healing, even if it meant everyone else was getting hurt. He loved your temper and your readiness to fight. He loved your loud laughter and your frequent slap games with the drunk customers. He loved your recklessness and you constantly getting tipsy and ruining other people.

But he loved you, too. He loved how you had blossomed into a defender. He loved how you had grown into a woman with nothing to hold you back. It was the opposite of self destructive. It was self growth. So what if you took others confidence to build your own? Everyone had done that to you and hadn't cared!

He felt proud. He felt like he had accomplished something.

Memories of his past piled onto him. He hadn't told you much about it, but he had to eventually. He couldn't be mysterious forever. He saw you at your weakest. It was only fair that you saw his weak spots, too.

Your smile caught his thoughts, and he stared at you in awe. You were flirting with one of the drunk customers and accepting more tips. He smiled as well.

You walked back over to him and beamed.

"I made 108 dollars so far!" You hummed, shoving the bills in a small fabric wallet you had hidden in your jacket.

Jax patted your hair and chuckled. "Good job, kid."

Your mature smile faultered, and your old, crooked grin revealed itself. You hugged your arms, suddenly very insecure in your tight shirt. "You're proud?"

Jax nodded and lowered himself to be at eye level with you. "I'm very, very proud of ya."

The words didn't have an emotional effect on you, but tears still pricked the corners of your eyes. "You promise?" Your voice cracked and swayed.

Jax held up his pinky. You did the same, giving him the chance to lock your pinkies together.

"I pinky promise ya."