When You're Young And In Love | Yandere!Male x Reader

6

He had sprayed cologne,  sure he was orderly and kept — Even going as far to pay close attention to his head and facial hair.

While some men in this town didn't even bother to wash their hands, he was making sure he was evenly clean shaven.

Did these circumstances repel you? Did you prefer some worldly, man-beast that cared not for anyone but himself and his desires? He felt fear, because he could never become that.

After all, from the age of seven-teen to now he studied fervently to mold himself into a suitable husband for you.. Gentle. Proper. Personal. Then out of nowhere, it was apparent that none of that mattered. All of the boy's hard work for literally nothing.

It inspired such turmoil that the only place left to turn to was God. And so the boy prayed: Each and every night, he inquired above as to what he was missing for you, what steps he should take that'd fit better. How to at-least turn your spite to neutrality.

It was never meant to go like this.
You were supposed to gradually fall in love with him & the scripture, then travel along with him down a long list of firsts. A true and honest life — one as lovers, companions.

What had he ever even done wrong? Lee just wished either God or you answered justly; but neither of you did him. His prayers seemed to have just dried up one day. When he would write, it was after his hands cracked and mind became jumbled with verses and hymns, and all he needed to see was someone flesh and human like him.

Each time he attempted to deliver these cry for helps, these peace offerings, they met the hands of your parent and the unsure fate you put them to. If you burned, stored, ripped them he didn't know.

He should suppose that the far worst part is that you never responded. In real life you'd respond to him occasionally; Quite shortly, but hearing the voice of a lovely, young woman could cheer anyone up. The 'Hello's and 'Goodbye's were greatly appreciated despite being so simple. But not a singular grain of effort back. He had half the mind to kick his desk in frustration at the thought..

War was not simple like you. It attacked him before he even claimed his draft. Gnawing, scratching. Like a demon it followed him from the day he saw his number onscreen 'til the day he marched down to the office with the bag of necessities.

A week had claimed his dignity. He was stripped of all humanity and individuality. People say that they lose their sense of self the second they shave your head and give you your uniform.. That wasn't his case.

First to go was his personality, replaced with a better, more strategic one. His usually boisterous voice was lowered and converted in favor of a more calculative one — It was easier to inform that way, and to his surprise people began to listen better.

Maybe that's what he was missing before. Explicit direction. It should not have been, Let me know if you'd like to go out with me. It should have been - We'll make a couple. Be good to me.

Man, he didn't know how other's did it until now. His past actions were much too hesitant.. especially on the topic of manhandling you, but apparently that's how things needed to go.

Each drill presented him with what was necessary and good. Crawling, shooting, hiding.

Being accurate slowly began to matter more than what was being executed. If he was ordered to pick a weapon from a dying man, he fulfilled it with less than a thought. If the task included harming someone, the only way he could cull the apprehension is if he convinced himself that God wanted to train him in this way. He wanted him to kill and gorge, because that's the only way things could be different. A loyal follower, he was. Each morning, his bunkmate - Henson - was in charge of preparing him for the day ahead.