ivyivy

He had taken his teasing a step too far, that much was obvious from the way you adamantly avoided his gaze like an animal avoiding repercussion. You radiated sadness; he could feel it collect at your feet in globs of sticky tar. Your lips wobbled, drawn tightly into a barely-controlled purse, warping your expression into something he knew was ugly. Mortification cut into your brows like the stain of a fingernail forming valleys upon your forehead. Blood pooled heavy in your ears.

Dazai recognised that it was much worse than some common fluster. It was no bashfulness or cute blush. Those were accompanied by the shy warmth of a kind reaction. Those were a tangible sunrise and this... it was a mixture of a terrible pout and potent shame. It was sentences stabbed into your heart in cruel gashes. It was days of situations beyond the reach of his input. What you wore now was an expression Dazai had never seen across your face and that alone rendered him speechless.

He tried to think back. What could have hurt you like this? Which of his sentiments cut through your fortitude long enough to make it crumble like rot? Lost for words there was no smug excuse to backtrack into. There was no crude remark and no sly comment of amusement that would usually grace his tongue with mirth. As much as he was known for his ill-timed words only pure silence filled the sun-kissed lines between you. You blinked. A tear dropped at your feet upon the carpet of the office. He made you cry. Dazai, your partner, made you cry.

He wasn't fond of pain and that vulgar, unwelcome twisting in his chest bordered on it. Guilt lay heavy in his throat and he swallowed it down like rancid acid. Remorse rang in his head—one hard toll and then the aftershock of shrill pealing. For a moment Dazai felt like he overstayed his welcome at a shrine whose god he didn't believe in. The walls of the agency became a reliquary and you the treasured idol. He felt like a gross sinner born to be out of place in your worship. He—no… Control. Apathy. Dazai tried to remind himself of such concepts but he looked at you with an inhale so uncertain he wasn't sure whether he was fighting his body just to take it. Yes, remorse. He could feel it coating his tongue and he didn't like how heavy it felt. The taste of it was vile.

His lips thinned, then parted, then he scowled. 

They opened again, "look at me."

You shook your head 'no' at first—left, right and then back to staring at the floor with uncharacteristic hesitation—and Dazai was tempted just to tilt your head by force. It would be easy. He could beckon you with words tipped with orders. He could pinch your chin and angle it upwards. You'd meet his eyes then and perhaps he'd lean down just to ensure the contact was unavoidable… but he didn't. Dazai knew better than to mess with the religion of you so instead he waited with a patience that scarcely belonged to him. Your lips trembled with your exhale. Your fingers kneaded into the fabric of your shirt. Then slowly, tentatively, you turned your face in his direction. Sad eyes looked up at him, his own twitching. He wanted your smile back.

"That was too far," Dazai spoke, hovering his hand just a breath away from your cheek. His fingers trembled from the strain of stillness. "I took it too far."

You nodded but didn't move to meet his touch, "yes, you did."

Silence. The ringing in his ears was gone. The window blinds rattled twice—thrice with the stray draft pushing through the office. The pause stretched. A minute... then a half. Your eyes didn't quite meet his: that was something Dazai noticed quickly. They had settled on his chin and then dropped to the bandages covering his neck as if searching for mercy within them. They lingered, another minute, then dropped further. It made him swallow and you blinked, then he reassured, "you know you can tell me to stop and I will, right?"

"I know that," you mumbled.

"I won't be angry."

"I know."

"I won't be disappointed."

Your breathe hitched. "I know."

"But you didn't. You didn't tell me to stop."

Your head dropped back towards the ground and you leaned away from his offered palm with a single step. There was a sway to your body. It was obvious that you lost focus in the conversation. A certain glaze surrounded your eyes. Numbness? Defeat? Or was it shame Dazai was seeing reflected in their colour, dulled only by the shadow of your brows that returned back to that ugly furrow. Tears threatened to keep the answer hidden from him. They lined your lashes and sparkled in the ill-fitting sunshine. The sight made his heart jump against his lungs.

Control, he repeated in his mind, but how could he when a dread settled in the pit of his stomach at your reaction to him?

"Hey," Dazai's voice was syrupy. There was a sweetness to the words, one that was genuine despite his nature, "hey, look at me."

Your eyes trailed up from the ground, every other breath slipping back down as if their hold got loose against his body—dragging from the tips of his shoes and up over the browns of his clothes—climbing the ladder of his bandages with each tedious step. The blue of his bolo tie reflected in your watery gaze. You sniffled and the tone shifted. It glistened against the waterline and blinked with each flutter of your lashes. Then your eyes settled against his and this time he didn't offer you space; his hand took its position against your heated skin.

"I'm sorry," he said.

A tear ran down the length of his thumb only to be swallowed by the shadows cast upon your face. It cooled quickly, leaving a sticky trail of glossy salt behind. The sensation was overwhelming to him. Such things never bothered him before but it made his thumb twitch twice against you. The path it took through the small valley between you—the point where his skin curved into your flush—tickled him. It left each crease tingling as the moisture seeped into the bandages. It darkened them, made the spot of your emotion cooler than the rest, and Dazai had to bite back the oddity. He hummed, brushing the residue away with the callus of his fingertips before your hand reached for him. Your fingers were much warmer than his own and they curled around the back of his palm.

He stilled. You felt his pulse.

"Please don't say such things," you said in a hushed voice that barely rivalled the quiet. Your eyes flickered away from his own, gaze avoidant, half-closed and unfocussed. There was a hint of embarrassment behind your tone. It was ill-placed and Dazai wasn't fond of the sound. You squeezed his palm, "… I don't like it."

"Alright," Dazai said, "I won't, I promise."

"Some teasing is fine it's just… that wasn't—wasn't…"

Your voice fell back into silence and Dazai watched as your eyes closed for a moment. You breathed, one long inhale, and your nose whistled. You sniffled. Another tear pushed through the cage of your wet lashes and before it could break past the point of your cheek he captured it with his other hand. "I understand," he said, tilting your face upwards. He placed a kiss against your forehead which prompted your eyes to open weakly and the ugly wrinkles of worry to ease.

Then he placed another kiss atop your skin, this time against your hairline. When he pulled away your lips were twitched into a puckered pout.

"Tell me if it's too much and I will listen."

"I can handle it, it was just… I just—today was…"

"Tell me if it's too much," Dazai repeated and he made an effort to smush your face. You whined, tried to pull away, then stilled.

"Alright. Alright I'll tell you," you sighed.

Dazai hummed at your agreement, for a second putting on a proud expression of victory as if he had won a prize for his ploys. His mask slipped back onto his skin and his mouth parted into a grin befit a clownish man. But... just as quickly it melted away. One of his hands left your face and he cleared his throat using it. A sort of mellow expression replaced the attitude. His eyes softened, brown bark melting into chocolate. He returned his hand to its spot against your cheek.

"I tease. That's what I do," Dazai started slowly, his voice quiet in an effort to match your apprehension. It was hushed like the breeze but strong nonetheless. Firm—making a point. He paused, mulling over the words. Every combination… every possibility... It was as if his case didn't stand if he said it wrong. He clicked his tongue.

"But my respect for you isn't fragile. It… overrules that impulse." Dazai made a show of wiping another tear from your face when it beaded just past the curve of your eyelids. "I'll bite my tongue if it means keeping your tears from staining my clothes… from… keeping them from falling in the first place."

A beat of silence. Another minute passed. Another half. The window blinds rattled against the window again. A chime rang out somewhere outside.

"Alright… I trust you," you said, finally nuzzling against his palm.

Still, she spends more time than she should analyzing your face and your loose clothes every time she sees you—right before making some snide comment about your outfit of the day. Then she desperately tries to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks when you look away, flustered.

Yandere!Cheerleader struts through the halls with her boyfriend by her side. And yet, if you’re within sight, her eyes always wander toward you.

The truth is, she’s starting to lose her mind a little.

You keep occupying her thoughts, and it drives her crazy.

When she practices her routines, she messes up more than usual—just because you happened to be studying in the bleachers that day.

When she doesn’t see you for a while, the only thing she can think about is what the hell you’re doing.

When she tries to fall asleep, for some reason, images of you flood her mind.

“Gross” she tells herself.

Even so, she finds herself stalking your social media… and your friends’.

Even though you don’t post much, she came across a harmless photo of you at the beach with your dad, wearing a beautiful swimsuit.

She blushed just imagining you like that that night—and of course, avoided you at all costs afterward.

But then she realizes you’re actually interesting.

Yandere!Cheerleader who after avoiding you for some time, decides to be your friend… just to find out what you do, what you think, and why no one’s ever around you. That’s all. After that, she’d go back to casually mocking you.

You’re passionate, smart, and it shocks her that you have no friends.

You talk to her so deeply about the things you love that… it makes her want to kiss you.

Wait… what?

Slowly, you two start to grow closer.

She starts spending less time with her boyfriend and her cheer squad, and more with you.

She thinks you have no one else, and she kind of likes the idea of being the center of your world.

That’s why Yandere!Cheerleader breaks down the day she sees you talking to someone else.

She starts trembling and hyperventilating, runs to the bathroom, and cries until her makeup runs.

One of her friends finds her and takes her to her boyfriend. But she can’t stop imagining what it’d be like to have you by her side.

To be your girlfriend.

And that’s when it clicks

She likes you.

She loves you, actually.

Yandere!Cheerleader decides she wants to be with you—even if she tries to deny her feelings.

At one of your little get-togethers at her house—just as friends, of course—she makes you try on her cheer uniform, just to tease you a little.

But once she sees you wearing it, she has to muster all her willpower not to drop to her knees and confess her love.

She tries to resist.

But without realizing it, she’s staring at you so intensely that you joke.

"What? Do you like me or something?"

Yandere!Cheerleader doesn’t even think. The “yes” slips out of her mouth so naturally that you blush—and she just laughs, just as embarrassed.

And then she kisses you.

“Who would've thought a nerd like you would steal my heart?”

-. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ green is the color of envy after all...

It was a warm summer afternoon. Streets were crowded with workers returning to their homes after their shifts ended, flooding the pavements. As the hours passed, heat gathered near the ground, rising in shimmering waves until it became the hottest moment of the day. Sweat dripped from Yael's forehead to his shirt's sleeve as he wiped it unconsciously while watching the sun slowly disappear. It definitely wasn't the weather or the sun that made him feel like this. You were the reason, never leaving his mind, occupying his thoughts. 

Yesterday you finally accepted his offer for a date disguised as a "movie night". He didn't really have any specific movie in mind when he asked you about it, but you were so sweet you decided for him. It was his favorite genre, too. Oh, how well you knew him. 

Well... It would actually scare him a bit if you knew too much about him. After all, how could he gain your years of trust back if you figured out why you felt sleepy at times you usually were active in your house? You usually sleep at 11 p.m.? Maybe you were too tired to stay awake until then. You had fallen asleep right after eating the dinner Yael said he prepared only for you. It was your all-time favorite since you two were students. He was already attentive and caring enough to remember to make it for you. How could you even think of declining it? Due to your work schedule, you weren’t getting enough time to rest either. It was a long hoped-for coincidence that happened just at the right time. That was all that was, really. Nothing intentional or planned by your lovely husband-to-be best-friend-next-door.  

He was amazing at cooking, tall and in-shape, thoughtful, gentle, caring... and he just happened to be around your age. Convenient since he got to meet you during your school years? Maybe. He was sure it was the best game fate played on him though. 

That day when he saw you holding one of his favorite romance novels he lost earlier last week, he couldn’t help but freeze mid-step at the classroom door, taking you in. What was he going to do? He wasn’t ready to confront you yet. He can’t just approach you to get the book back without shaking like a leaf in excitement either. Should he just not go in? Maybe if he closed the door back-  

Well, you noticed him when the door made a creaking sound as he was trying to close it. No turning back now. 

He meekly entered the classroom to properly get near you this time. It wasn’t like he was trying to inhale your scent in person and not through “borrowing” your clothes or anything. Even when he did, he was being nice by borrowing the ones you liked the least. Yael was known to be a gentleman after all.  

Turns out you were planning to give the book to him tomorrow. Lucky for him though; he got his book back and you both got to enjoy after-school tasks together while chatting as well as watching the sunset through the classroom windows that day. Warm, bright, enchanting... Not the sun though. You. 

That day was all it took for him to not hide in shadows to love you after that. Sure, he still acted as if he didn’t know why your old best friend changed their seat to sit somewhere far away from you- but isn’t that convenient that he can now sit with you? You can take his notes if you can’t keep up with taking them yourself while daydreaming when you sit together. It’s never a problem if he is a part of them; because you’ve always been a part of his. 

Even though it was delightful to be able to spend his school days with you, he knew it would all come to an end one day when you graduate. He had spent night after night planning what he could do to keep in touch with you. He couldn't just toss out not only ridiculous but unrealistic promises like your other classmates that “you all will keep in touch and have dinners together often after graduation”. He had lived long enough to know those are all empty promises that will never be kept. He had to be special enough to stay in your life. He had to leave enough impact to stay with you. Or maybe he can just... force his way into it? 

What a coincidence that he moved into the next unit to yours, after you left your family’s house to live alone. You don’t need to question where your old neighbor went off to. She was just an old lady anyway. Maybe her grandchildren she always talked to you about placed her in a nursing home. And Yael? Oh, he just got a job at the children’s daycare facility that you see from the corner of your eye every day when you commute to work. He had always gone on about dreaming of becoming a vet and dedicating his life to caring for animals when you two were younger but caring for children wasn’t that far off either; especially if he got an excuse to live just a mere meter from your apartment.  

He was giddy about all the meals and desserts he could bake you with his own hands now that he lives just a few steps away from your home. So much so that he started obsessing over every single step it took to cook for you. He didn’t even notice when he started planning what to give you weeks ahead of time, filling calendars and journals of what he thought you would enjoy the most depending on your mood the week prior. You went to have seafood boil at the newly opened restaurant near your workplace after work with your friends on Tuesday. What’s better than warm cinnamon rolls, fresh out of the oven with that sweet cream cheese icing melting on top when you come back home? He can promise you they will make you sleep easier after all that feast you had without him. He would even be willing to bake some for your coworkers if you liked them, although he can’t promise that the icing will have just sedative effects. ^^; You wouldn’t mind only having him in your life after that, would you? Agree or not; if it ever comes to the point where he must do something to keep you to himself, he will not hesitate to use methods that you would never even imagine Yael thinking. Not that he would stab your family and friends in front of you but, you know... 

You, on the other hand, had more significant things to care about than Yael: a significant other. Apparently you were “dating” an android you met on a phone app nowadays. Klein, or something? Just great. Now he had to deal with a piece of metal with no real emotions, too. He can’t just guilt-trip or emotionally manipulate it without actual human feelings. Too bad the psychology books he bought recently won’t work, other than on you. He had to think of a different approach.  

It took him quite the effort to finally induce you to let him pick you up after work, too. This walking toaster really brainwashed you into thinking you don’t need Yael, huh? Just another useless hindrance of a tin-can. He would figure out how to get rid of the thing sooner or later. But right now? He had a date with you, and he didn’t want anything else to cloud his mind. All that was left was to drive you to your new home (which was conveniently just next door to your old one. How lucky!) while you enjoyed your blueberry muffin. The blueberries were prepackaged, but he took his time to look through every pack he could find in the store to find just the perfect one for you: ripe, sweet and big enough to inject some “love” into.  

By the time you reached the last few crumbs of the muffin, your movements had already turned into a sluggish, unfocused mess. You were enthusiastic to have a conversation about the movie you had been looking forward to watching less than a minute ago but, the words danced in your mouth and tripped over the blueberries you now had trouble swallowing.