in the midst of a storm | yandere x reader

01. a taste so sweet that it's bitter

"DADDY'S TAKIN' A WHILE."

"I know, pea, I know," responds your meemaw.

But she don't know. She don't know 'cause she keeps knittin', she keeps weavin' loops and makin' hoops while the sky loses its brightness, while the moon spreads her wings and tries her best to coat the land in light. But she can't do it as well as her sister, no matter how hard she tries—

—so darkness coats it instead. Cold, bitin', dangerous darkness. It lurks in the streets, crawls around in the raggedy corners. From alleyways, it eyeballs you with malice, and awaits your slip-up; for the moment your boot catches the air; for the moment you all but fall to the ground.

Then it lunges.

"I'm goin' out."

You stand up.

"Lookin' for your daddy?"

Your meemaw doesn't even bother to lift her head.

"Yep."

She sighs, finally putting down the needles in favour of facing you. She don't say nothin', just stares at you for a few moments.

Then, her lips curve up and her eyes crinkle. "Your ma woulda done the same."

You smile back, nodding, before she speaks again.

"Come back in one piece, pea."

"No promises!"

And you're out the door.

The cold bites you. It runs over your skin, teasing your flesh 'fore sinking in. It's like a wolf—gnawin' at you with razor-sharp teeth as it growls into your limbs and shoots tiny bumps up your arms.

You shiver.

But it's alright. It's all good. You'll face it head-on 'cause you're a strong girl. You'll face it head-on 'cause your pa needs you to.

That's right, your pa needs you.

He's probably out there right now, freezin' like a camel in a blizzard; trapped in a place he ain't supposed to be in.

Now, your daddy don't get scared easy so he won't look it, but he ain't invincible—he's human, and he ain't in the best shape neither—hasn't been since Uncle Aaron went missin' a while back and he turned the whole town upside down lookin' for 'im.

That gave him a real scare, and now—well, now his heart's real weak, and he don't wanna admit it, but he ain't in his prime no more.

That's why you have to find him. That's why you'll trudge through these barren streets even as the clouds fall from the sky and obscure the shoddy houses you're used to seein' on the daily; even as alarm bells blare in your mind like the local church on Sundays; even as your body trembles and trembles and trembles in the wake of this icy, near-frigid breeze.

"Argh!"

You stumble.

Your foot must've caught somethin'. You don't know what it is. You can't see. But you do know that it hurt. Not much, but this, plus the cold and the way your nose is beginning to twitch like crazy, is enough to wind you up, to really grind your gears.

"Stupid, fuckin'..."

You crouch down, and lo and behold, your enemy is...

...a hole.

This damn fog is givin' you paranoia, has your eyes searchin' the back of your head to check for any miscreants—any potential outlaws that might be schemin' something—and in your lowered guard, a hole in the ground decided to strike you down.