Yandere Ushijima x Female reader
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Ushijima Wakatoshi, the miracle boy . An anti-social teenager who only cares about the thing he loves, volleyball and......
....you
And he'll do anything to get t...
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Author's POV
Being in one room felt like drowning. Convincing him felt impossible. Having the windows closed, and covered was an annoying sight to see. Your body was desperate for sun, seeing clouds, maybe snow. He keeps saying that he loves you, but yet he can't trust you to roam around the house. The only thing you got him to do was to take the ropes off of you. The cloth on your mouth was useless from all the screaming you were doing for who knows how long. Being in one room was suffocating you.
He keeps bringing you food and water while he goes and does errands? runs? who knows. He tells you to not talk or else you won't recover the soreness from your throat. He gives you medicine for the pain so you can enjoy eating without whining. Perhaps you've been here for weeks.
He showed the things he got for 'your' new home. Like clothing, shirts, pants, shorts, skirts,undergarments. 'How does he know my bra and underwear size?'.....Oh wait. His confession wasn't surprising. He also got his own stuff, which you don't find that amusing.
Right now you're just sitting down on the bed staring at a blank wall. He tries to keep you occupied by bringing you coloring books and sketch books, he tells you that when he was younger, he'll always color and draw and it's something he loved to do.
The room is a pretty average size. The bed in the middle in between two night stands. A wardrobe on one side of the wall while the other one is a closed window. The door to the bathroom is on the other side of the room, the wall you're staring at. The wallpaper is half pealed off showing it's true wall color, grey-ish white. However, the dark wood floors are better than the ones of the motel room. Although, the chair is still on the same corner. Different this time. A dark red velvet chair.
You heard the door open and close and you still haven't gotten a clue on what to do. Your first option was pick the lock, but he took any small objects that might help, Bobby pins, paper clips, any small metal object that can fit inside the key hole to turn it. Your second option was to kick the door open, but the door seemed to have other plans. Your third option was to break through the windows, but they were covered by wood that he installed. Now your fourth option, run? Fight? Trick him? So many thoughts coming to mind in a matter of seconds from him walking upstairs to the bedroom.
Sitting criss cross with your hands resting on your knees looking at the door, hearing each of his footsteps coming closer. The lock making a clinking sound and the door making a creaking sound, while being opened. He was wearing a usual of some dark jean pants, a plain white t-shirt with an unzipped black sweater.
He was holding a plastic white bag, " I grabbed some more pain medication for your throat. I hope you haven't been screaming for help. I don't want your throat to worsen, I want to hear your voice." He dropped the bag on the bed next to you, he took off his sweater and threw on the chair.
