A Silent Flower in a Cage of Flames
(Yandere! Red Son x FEM! Reader ā Arranged Marriage AU)
English is not my native language
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Your footsteps echoed against the cold stone floor of the grand throne room, amplifying the tense silence that hung in the air. Before you, on an ornate table, lay the parchment that would formalize the marriage between two powerful houses. Your eyes were fixed upon it, your head bowed in quiet resignation.
"(Y/N), this agreement does not only determine your fateāit determines the fate of our entire family," your father said. His voice was composed, yet there was an undeniable firmness beneath his words.
Standing across from you was Red Son. Arms crossed, his expression unreadable. But his eyesā¦ his eyes burned with a fire that was not wild with rage but cold and inescapable, a silent yet consuming inferno.
He assessed you from head to toe, a slow, deliberate gaze that made your spine stiffen. His lips curled into a smirk, but there was no warmth in it.
"Hmphā¦ So, you are the one who is to be my wife," he mused, his voice laced with icy disdain. "Howā¦ fragile you look."
Your fingers clenched involuntarily, but you said nothing. His gaze darkened slightly at your silence, dissatisfaction flickering in his eyes.
"Ahā¦ so you are afraid," he murmured, his tone a whisper of mockery. "How adorable."
The wedding was grand. Lavish.
Yet to you, everything was a blur. The people, the decorations, the forced smiles painted upon your lipsā¦ The only thing that remained sharp, undeniable, were Red Sonās eyes.
He never smiled. He merely observed, cold and authoritative. But whenever his gaze met yours, something flickered within themāsomething unsettling.
The room designated for your honeymoon was nothing short of luxurious, a display of wealth and power. Yet inside, a suffocating weight settled in the air.
As Red Son closed the door behind him, the sound of the lock clicking into place sent a shiver down your spine.
Your shoulders tensed.
"If you try to runā¦ I will find you," he said, his voice calm, absolute. "But I know you wonāt try, will you?"
His words coiled around you like invisible chains. Slowly, you shook your head, unable to meet his eyes.
Suddenly, his fingers gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him.
"Look at me," he whispered. His voice was soft, yet it carried the weight of a threat. "You are my wife now, (Y/N). You belong to me. Do not forget that."
And in that moment, you truly felt like a prisoner.
As days passed, Red Sonās behavior became stranger. He allowed you to roam the palace, but never alone. No one dared to speak to you in private. Even the servants seemed to avoid your gaze.
He never touched youānot physically.
But his presence never wavered. His eyes followed your every move, his attention a constant weight upon your shoulders.
One afternoon, you took a walk in the palace gardens. The fresh air was a rare reprieve, and you had wandered further than intended.
When you turned around, Red Son was already there.
Standing silently. Watching.
His face was devoid of expression. Yet his eyesā¦
His eyes glowed with something dangerous.
"What were you doing?" he asked, his tone slow, measured.
"IāI was just getting some air," you stammered, your voice betraying your unease.
Red Son tilted his head. "Getting air?"
He stepped forward.
"Who told you that you could wander away from me?"
Another step.
"If you are thinking of runningā¦ I will chain you, (Y/N)."
The world around you seemed to shrink. Your breath hitched.
But in that moment, you noticed something.
Beneath the suffocating coldnessā¦ there was something else. A twisted, possessive sort of affection.
Red Sonās emotions became more and more apparent with each passing day.
One moment, he would watch your every move in unsettling silence. The next, he would bring you giftsāfine jewelry, rare silksāas if desperate to see something other than fear in your eyes.
One evening, he entered your chambers, a silk gown draped over his arm.
"You will wear this tonight," he said. His tone was commanding, but there was a strange softness to it.
You took the garment without a word, hesitating. The brief flicker of hesitation in your expression made something in his gaze shift.
His expression darkened.
"You're still afraid of me?"
You flinched slightly, shaking your head quickly. But his eyes narrowed.
"Liar."
In an instant, he threw the silk aside and pinned you against the wall.
"Do you think I am frightening, (Y/N)?" he whispered. His face was so close, his breath ghosting over your skin.
Your breath caught in your throat.
You were a fragile butterfly, trapped in his burning grasp.
But there was no escape. Because Red Son would never let you go.
And the most terrifying part of it allā¦
Was that with each passing day, you were growing accustomed to his warmth.
(it was in my drafts for a long time, I wanted to get rid of it)
