Limerence ❀ Yandere!Males x Reader

entry #74 | ¢υт

━━━━༻ ♦ ༺━━━━
cut
00100000
━━━━༻ ♦ ༺━━━━

Darkness quickly took its stranglehold, suffocating her in a thick, musty blanket that she couldn't take off no matter what she tried. It wasn't a kind darkness; no, not the soft and comforting kind that lulls her to sleep and to a blissful dreamland. Nor was it the inviting darkness that drains the blue from the sky, blooming gold and orange blossoms that soon fade into star-touched swirls of purple and blue. It was a darkness so total she couldn't see anything. She wasn't even sure if she had eyes, to begin with.

And the walls. The four walls contained her and the shadows. Enough space to stand up and spread her legs, but not enough for her to feel comfortable. Maybe a tighter space would make her feel better—she wasn't claustrophobic, and all the space made her feel like something was sitting in one of the corners. Watching. Waiting. Watching her with a predator's eyes and waiting for the right moment to kill her.

The floor wasn't so cold that it made her shiver, but enough for her to not want to touch it for too long. Everywhere was dark and silent and her every move against the metal echoed loudly through the room. Even a soft thud of her foot hitting the wall bounced around hollowly before it faded into the ceiling lost in the shroud of darkness. 

It was mine for the first hour; she could still breathe. But after the second...and then the third...she couldn't anymore. The dark and isolation were strangling her, throttling her, and choking the fight out of her. She vaguely remembered banging on the door and apologizing to whoever might hear her, pleading with them to let her out. Then she gave up, choosing to curl in on herself and try to sleep it out instead.

But if it was her stress or the air in the cell, she couldn't fall asleep no matter how long she waited. She tried moving to a different spot and a different sleeping position, but nothing worked.

She was awake and alone. Alone with her demons. They were like hundreds of voices molded into one that whispered into her ear with a cold, haunting voice. It told her she was weak. It told her heart to speed up uncontrollably, her stomach to turn over, and her legs to go numb. It was a voice that could never be silenced. At least not by her alone.

Time and time she switched between whispering quiet nothings to calm herself down and huddling in a fetus position. As if her arms would be enough of a barricade to keep her safe from what lurked in the shadows. The first tear fell just short of two hours after the door slammed shut. Then like a chain reaction came another. And another. Yet with each tear that silently fell, she knew it would make no difference. It was like looking for hope in the same place she first lost it. Futile.

(Y/n) wasn't a crier. When she did feel the urge to cry, oftentimes she held it back, especially in the presence of others. But when she was alone, that was a different story. No one could keep holding everything back forever. No one was that strong. A jab in the right spot would make anyone's walls come crashing down.

The logical portion of her mind tried to calm the rest of itself down. She tried to tell herself that she'd be released sooner or later. This was okay. Tristan wasn't hurting Reese. Nor was he hurting her physically. She'd be fine, even if fear subjugated her and drove her crazy. Even if this ordeal made her crack into bits and pieces. Bits and pieces were what made up many beautiful things, she tried to console herself. Like mosaics. Broken pieces fitted together to become breath-taking works of art. 

You could always piece the fragments back together, although the scars would forever remain.

Only in the dreamland, an endless void of nothingness could she escape all that. Yet that too was robbed from her.