in the midst of a storm | yandere x reader

03. a surface so smooth that it's rough

"Y/N, I ASKED YOU A QUESTION."

Your daddy's voice is boomin', leaking authority with the tone of a leader. He's speakin' like he's talkin' to one of his cowhands. But you ain't no cowhand, and he ain't never used that voice on you.

His gaze is all hard-like, all stone-cold steel, and his eyes don't leave the Sheriff's form behind you. They stay trained on the man like your lives depend on it, like he'll do somethin' the second your daddy's eyes look away.

"Can it wait?" Your lips tug down. "We need to wrap you up."

"It can't," comes your daddy's reply; stern and cross and mean. "Me bleedin' means nothin' if he ends up killin' us both anyhow."

Your arms fold over one another. "He's the Sheriff, daddy, his job is to protect us, not kill us."

Your daddy scoffs, and the wrath of hell's scorchin' flames leaves his mouth all at once, the scorn of a man teeming with hatred. He's burning; burning with a rage so hot, the desert itself can't even hope to compete. It's weird; confusin'. You can see the boiling heat pourin' off him though you know he's anything but.

Just what the hell is goin' on?

You shake your head. "What's it matter anyhow? I was with 'im this whole time and he ain't done nothin'. All he's done is help me pick you up and move you outta that damn ditch."

The mist must know you've said somethin' real bad 'cause it stops its swirlin' like it's been doin' for the past hour or so, pauses briefly to stare at you with a wide, gaping jaw of disbelief. It sure is seein' an awful lot today.

Though, you're not sure why what you've just said is so bad. But, judging by the way your daddy's face is scrunchin' up and turnin' all sour, you're sure he's 'bout to tell you.

"He's a no-good sack o' shit, Y/N. You know this, I say it all the time!"

"And yet the best reason you can come up with is that his eyes're soulless!" You seethe. "The hell does that even mean?!"

"It means he's no good! I—"

"Daddy, I know you used to be a bounty hunter but don't you think you're takin' this a little too far? As far as I'm concerned, he's innocent 'til proven guilty—and you have no proof."

"Look at me, pea, ain't this all the proof you need?" He takes out a hand and gestures at his sittin' form as though it means somethin', parts the mist like it'll open your eyes and make you see things his way.

But your eyes are already open, and they're seein' a whole load o' bullshit.

"D'you remember seein' him 'fore passing out, pa?"

He says nothin'.

"D'you remember his 'soulless' eyes 'fore ending up in a ditch?"

Again, nothin'.

Your eyes're watery now, leakin' sweat like they were just holdin' two buckets filled with the very liquid that's spillin' out of 'em. They rip your vision from you, have the colours you see bleed into each other 'til you're forced to blink it away, to let the droplets fall.

"Do you..." you start 'fore a lump forms in your throat; one you can only swallow down in order to continue, "Do you have any idea... how I felt when I saw you down 'ere?"

A breeze sweeps by and runs that familiar, chillin' cold down your spine. Just like the one your daddy sent.

You shudder.

"I thought you were dead, daddy! Dead! You felt like mom for a second and I couldn't breathe! I couldn't breathe..."

"Pea..."