The 28th Stop [ Yandere x Reader ]

29 - Tempest (Part 2)

A/N: Remember the big 'WARNING' chapter? Yeah. Here we go...

Puddles scattered across the cobbled streets, changing in size and shape at the storm's behest.

A pair of sandals splashed into one particularly large puddle. Rainwater flew up onto his soaked trousers and all over the lower part of his cloak, yet Emilio paid little mind to it. He gripped the umbrella he had borrowed from Ruth, his head held up high. A calm expression just shy of a smile settled on his face.

Because at last, after a long day, he would be coming back home.

'Except, first...' He side-eyed the man next to him.

Asher wrapped his arms tight around himself, hunched over, his grit teeth failing to hide their chattering. His purple hair was flat and glued to his face and ears, as he faced the full force of the downpour.

Emilio sighed. "I told you that you should've borrowed an umb–"

"Shut up."

The gatekeeper quirked a brow at the irate tone but his attention once again turned to the bitter taste coating his mouth, the sediments of ground tea leaves on his tongue, and the churning in his stomach. He bit back a grimace. 'Six sugar cubes were too much. Why did I do that?'

They continued their walk in silence.

But Asher's mind was far from such.

Hazel eyes fixated on the roads that sprawled ahead. His stony expression betrayed nothing; a cold mask that hid the unbridled fury ravaging under the surface.

Over and over again did the scenes play out. Your resounding 'NO!'. Your explicit, insulting avoidance of his gaze. Your sudden reluctance to be associated with him when he had been nothing but helpful to you, acting towards your cause, always having you in the forefront of his mind all this time. He even held himself back a little for you for an entire week, bottling his feelings despite the burning pressure it caused in his chest because you asked him to. Yet now you denied him?

How dare you.

What did you take him for?

Asher was not stupid. He knew your change in attitude was because you saw him kill that loan shark leader with your own eyes. Perhaps he should have been more careful - maybe drag his body to a place outside your field of vision to strike the final blow. That way, more importantly, he would not have needed to restrain himself. With all the sensations brimming in his core, rising to that perfect boil, he could have twisted the knife further in before striking the flesh many more times. He counted in his head. About fifteen would do. Just enough before it turned to decapitation. That was not his style.

...Style?

Asher came back to himself with a gasp. A prickling chill rushed down his spine.

He stared at his palms. Rainwater streamed across the creases and trickled down his sleeves.

He blinked and the water flashed red. Then black.

A violent shudder besieged his whole body. He crossed his arms, tightly clutching the fabric of his damp white shirt. Asher halted in the middle of a wide puddle, his chin dropped to his chest. As he watched his quivering reflection, the memory of what transpired at the abandoned warehouse - in that room, with that man - scorched into view.

It happened after he had left to dispose of the bodies of Bob and Wellington.

.

.