Sσʋҽɾҽιɠɳƚყ[yandere x reader]

Embrace

It was now the third time you had woken up with Eldon attending to your side along the bed, and as you sat up and tried to remember what happened the previous day, you admitted to yourself willingly that you might have been going insane. At least, it certainly felt that way. 

    “You’re certainly prone to loss of consciousness, aren’t you?” Eldon remarked as he pulled the covers off of you- a thing he had done so many times over, now. His face held his ever-common blush, and his eyes remained at the floor.

    “Eldon- what happened?” You retorted, pulling the blanket back over yourself. The forced recollection your brain tried to commence caused a chill to spread throughout your body, and made you want to throw up. To have the weighted, tangible thing there, against your cold legs made you feel better. 

    “I actually wanted to ask you the same question. You were found asleep in the hallway, just outside your door. I figured nothing unordinary, as you're such a wild spirit, Miss (Y/N), but Prince Laelius insisted I check you for ailments. I’d say you deserve him your sanity and health, as you were running a fever, though a reclusive, rolling one at that.” He gestured to the bedside table, which upheld a bowl of glistening water, and a rag. 

    “I don’t remember a thing.” You admitted, pulling the blanket up further, it feeling like the right thing to do. Everything was so confusing to you in that moment; you wanted nothing more than to simply rest in the bed for as long as possible.

    “Have you felt sick for long?” Eldon began to bombard you with the usual series of questions, but you found yourself becoming more and more disinterested in them as they went. So much so, in fact, that you opted out of it completely by closing your eyes and going silent; praying that he would figure you fell asleep and left. It worked, and he left with a final “Sleep well, Madam.”

    Once the chamber doors shut, you opened your eyes and rolled around in the bed, trying to stifle up enough motivation to actually get out of it and put warmer clothes on. What’s the point, though? Just stay in bed- You’re sick. You can waste the entire day away, here, in this comfortable room. You don’t have any duties until tomorrow. A voice in the back of your mind, seemingly different from your own, whispered lullabies of reassurance to you.

    “I’m hungry.” You said out loud. For whatever reason, you knew you wouldn’t be leaving the room, and hoped some poltergeist looming in the walls would hear your pleas for sustenance and grant it by passing it on to the ones who loomed outside of your cage. No, your room. Your mind corrected the negative view of the situation.

Read a book- you finally have a chance to. “But I’m hungry.” You repeated, speaking to the voice as if it was a companion in the room. Maybe it even was. Something told you, deep down in your stomach, that was the case, which brought up your doubts of sanity once again. It was in that moment it felt as though chains clasped around your ankles loosened just enough to make laying in the bed lazy to your chaotic, whirring mind. You got up as soon as this feeling of distant freedom found you, and made your way across the room with an ironically lethargic haste. Towards the doors, towards the doors. You repeated the mantra in your mind- Yes, you. It wasn’t the charming, melodic invader that persuaded your thoughts. Your bare feet paused on their own, however, just a foot or two away from the gateway.  

    It felt... wrong.

    Not wrong in a sickening way, where one might feel the the urge to look away from a sight, less they gag. It felt wrong as in... incorrect. You weren't supposed to leave, you had already deduced this earlier. Yet, you wanted to, so terribly bad. The urge to run out into the hallway barefoot and sprint out of the castle doors and right back to your village was poignant on your tongue. Yet, your feet still turned you around and brought you to a second destination- the bookshelf. Though it wasn’t the place you intended to go to, there was truth in the fact that you desired to read a book nearly the entire time you had been staying in the glorified fortress. Seldom had you ever dreamed of such an expansive array of words at your finger tips. A tiny, reflective memory glinted in your mind- one of a silver faced book, bleeding a page marker on an upper shelf. Your eyes immediately traveled to that high point on the book shelf, where you could recall it sitting.