Dark Devotion [Yandere! Dead By Daylight x Reader]

three. prove thyself

The trial at Ormond was a close call. The last gen had popped. Dwight, along with Claudette and Steve, were all on their last hooks, and the killer had placed the hex: "no one escapes death" somewhere on the map. Fortunately the new killer wasn't good, however, he wasn't exactly terrible either. Those knives he carries around were easy enough to dodge, especially when looping, but the trial was still difficult with Yun-Jin still learning the ropes of survival.

Still, despite all odds Dwight was still able to escape with Yun-Jin and Steve. Unfortunately he couldn't say the same for Claudette. Although three escapes counts as a win, he still felt like it was a loss. The male hated when someone would die in the trials. Being the smart one, and one of the first to arrive in the fog, he was always seen as the leader. So if anyone died during his trial, he felt like he let his teammates down.

Obviously Claudette knew the risks of taking the killer off of him so he could help the generators progress just a little bit faster, but he still felt responsible for her death. Hopefully in the next trial all four survivors can escape.

Dwight cringed in pain.

"Ow!" He hissed, one hand cradled his wounded stomach while the other fiddled through the medical cabinet. Right. He was still injured. Just before exiting through the portal, the killer managed to get one last hit on him, resulting in Dwight appearing in the medical cabin to deal with his injuries.

As he hurriedly took out items, Dwight wondered where you were. Usually when survivors escaped the trials with an injury, you would be waiting for them in the medical cabin to heal their wounds for the next trial, however, you were nowhere to be seen. So Dwight took it upon himself to at least stop the bleeding before he passed out.

Pressing a wet rag against his torso, Dwight took out a few gauzes, towels, and disinfecting sprays. His dark brown eyes searched for the pain medication, but as he gazed up at the shelves, he felt a wave of dizziness wash over. Gripping the counter, the male took a few shaky deep breaths. His eyes moved back to the shelf full of pills.

Reaching up, the male felt more blood seep out of his stomach, causing him to let out a sharp yelp. His grip loosened on the counter and he felt his body stumble back.

The male was about to hit the floor until he felt firm arms wrap around his torso. Dwight's eyes widened. The feeling of the stranger's arms, it was familiar.

He looked over his shoulder. To his relief, his dark brown eyes met your chilly [eye color] stare.

"H-hi."

"Hello."

The male tried to smile, but the pain in his stomach felt unbearable. "Agh!" He grunted, his hand gripping at his blood stained shirt.

Looking over at the closest empty bed, you firmly held onto the man and guided him over to the rows of cots just right of the medical cabinets. Helping him sit upright, you took a seat on the rolling chair beside the bed, and faced him.

"Could you take off your shirt?"

Dwight's face flushed, but he gave a curt nod and began to unbutton his shirt. As he took off his tie and shook off the white collared shirt, the male couldn't help but nervously gaze over at you as you took off your glove. No matter how many times he's been through the healing process, Dwight could never get used to your touch.

Dwight wasn't sure when exactly his feelings began to blossom into a crush. Was it before Feng showed up? Or after David's arrival? Time was nonexistent in the fog, and when he didn't remember his many deaths from the trials, his memories and feelings just meshed into a blur. Although he couldn't remember when his feelings developed, Dwight did know why.