Limerence ? Yandere!Males x Reader

entry #71 | ?я???

He didn't care if others preferred Kieran over him, but when it came to the (h/c)-haired girl...he definitely cared. A bit too much, he had to admit. And he hated it at first.

But no, it wasn't just that. It was what he had to do now. He was stalling too much ever since (Y/n) first arrived at the manor. It wasn't like him, not seizing the chance to carry out his plans. Perhaps...was a small part of him still longing for his father's approval?

That was impossible. The Tristan who still craved for his parent's love and affection was dead. He has been dead since he was five. He's long discarded emotions and chose to cage them in a locked vault inside his heart, even though now it seems a certain someone's dragged them out of him.

Pain. Frustration. Hate. Anger. Irritation. Sorrow. Joy. Envy.

Love.

Would they make him stronger or weaker? He didn't know. He would only find out once he starts this endless cycle of damnation. Patricide is a sin, they say. Murder is a crime. It would've been fine if it was the old Tristan that was more machine than human. Laws of society did not apply to nonhumans. 

He was human now. And anything he did now would make him fall deeper and deeper into the hole he dug himself.

How far would he fall?

He'd just have to see when his father's blood was on his hands.

TEMPUS:DORM
━━━━━༻ ❀ ༺━━━━━
ℓαtєя

Leon was pissed.

"Pissed" wasn't a good word to describe what he was feeling. It was more like a I-want-to-snap-someone's-neck-in-half kind of feeling. First of all, why was he made the one to take care of that a**hole Kieran? Just because he was good at taking care of Conan when he got sick didn't mean he'd do it for alcoholic f*ckboys that annoyed the sh*t out of him.

His "care" consisted of him slapping a wet cloth on Kieran's forehead, suffocating him with heavy blankets, and then calling it a day. If Tristan expected five-star quality care from Leon, he'd have to pay the big bucks or be willing to owe him a big favor. Nurse someone he'd rather have dead back to health for free? Hilarious. He was tempted to smother the white-haired male with a pillow on multiple occasions.

He also may or may not have "accidentally" pushed Kieran off the bed many times.

Leon reached up and began using the exercise bar in Tristan's training room to do chin-ups. The black-haired male never installed a gym for himself; he didn'd find it necessary. Dumbbells and a long run through the surrounding woods would be enough for him.

But today, he wanted something different. The repetitive act of straining his arm muscles to pull his large frame up countless times grounded him. The sore numbness in his body, the breathlessness in his chest, and the harsh strain of his muscles in his arms as they began to tear calmed him down. The more he did, the more he pushed his body to its limits, the better it was. It was his way of punishing himself—he should've done better.

His mind sharpened around the growing tightness in his chest. One thing was certain; he refused to let (Y/n) out of his sight again. He'd been too lenient. He had to remember she wasn't like Conan, who was troublesome at times but otherwise obedient. She was brought up with proper supervision and constantly surrounded by danger and bad people. Like that one girl. Leon was beginning to forget her face. All he remembered was a blurry female he'd pushed off the roof of the school building and made it look like an accident.

Well, whoever she was, she was a bad influence on the (h/c)-haired girl. It was good he got rid of her.

After ten more sets of chin-ups, he finally released the bar and let himself drop down onto his feet. There was an angry red welt across his hand where the bar had bitten into it. His other hand was wrapped with bandages, the white slowly staining red where his wound reopened. Perhaps he shouldn't have pushed himself so hard today. But in his defense, he had forgotten about the wound.