ZANTEDESCHIA - YB x Fem Reader

Chapter 2 : Part 14

I wake up from the journey home, and notice that Peter's parked outside of a peculiar building. I look up at the sign and decipher that it is a therapy centre. He seems to have not noticed I've woken up and, before he could see, I shut my eyes tightly to hide it. I feel him peck my forehead gently and exit the van. Squinting my eyes , a small gap between my lids to peek, I watch him walk into the building, constantly checking behind himself in paranoia. Peter didn't tell me he'd been getting therapy? Is he ok? I hope he's not struggling with.... "bad" thoughts.

~Time Skip~

An hour passes, and I'm bored as shit. Glancing outside the van window every so often and watching the rare car drive past, or couple walk by. I wish I could walk again, feel the wind behind me as I stand on the beach, run through fields of flowers, splash through a cool swimming pool, dance around in a flowy dress, waltz in a smooth suit. But I can't, since I have one leg. My freedom forever stunted, an eternal life of despair.

I soon watch Peter emerge from the building, an odd look in his eyes. He stares directly at me, face full of emotions I can't unscramble, a face that scares me. A thin smile pierces his mouth, teeth baring. It's dark out, so I can only see his silhouetted body, his sharp eyes and thin pupils, and that terrifying grin. I hate that smile.

He slowly walks over to me, and my body completely freezes up. He quickly opens the door, sits down and slams it shut, face snapping back to me, glaring into my soul. Tears prick my eyes, and adrenaline courses through my veins. "W-what do you want?" I snap at him, trying to stay strong and show no weakness.

"Is that anyway to speak to your boyfriend?" He snarls back at me, grin growing wider. He grabs my head, slamming it into the window.

Eyes open wide, I look around the van, noticing we were driving back through the dirt path toward the house. I look to my side and see Peter, calmly driving the van. He looks nothing like he did moments ago, but it must just be my imagination acting up again.

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It's been three weeks of living with Peter, and with every trip to his therapist he gets more and more odd, not letting me out of his sight. Eventually, he agrees to bring me with him to one of these sessions. At least now I'll get a better idea of what's going on.

We finally arrive at the destination and no matter how hard I had tried, Peter didn't let me take the crutches. That's ok though. As long as I can make sure he's alright, I'll be happy.

Second Person POV

The two of you finally arrive at the clinic, Peter carrying you tightly in his arms. It feels less like a sweet gesture and more like a restraint. Regret stings the back of your mind, and you question if you really want to live like this, if you really care about him. You don't think you do, but you feel obliged to continue this charade as to not hurt anyone, and not just including yourself and Peter.

He stands at the front desk with you in his arms, close to his chest. You, too wrapped up in your own thoughts to notice anything he says, are snapped back to reality when Peter walks through one of the hallways, passing by rooms with doors closed and numbered signs. Creepy, you think to yourself, this place looks like an insane asylum. The clean white walls and floors give sickening comfort to those between them.

Peter brings you into a room, few pops of colour sprinkled without, yet that sickening white colour still prominent. A lady sat in a rigid chair greets Peter, and glances at you in curiosity. "Ah. I see you brought your 'darling' with you today?" His.... what? Has he been talking about you in these sessions? Your mind wanders through what this woman may know about him, about you. How much did he tell her? How much did she know? "Take a seat, Mr King." You've never heard his last name before, so it confused you upon the first time hearing it. "So, will you properly introduce (Y/N) to me?"

Your eyes widen, and you look up at Peter, now sitting with you in his lap - normally a romantic or sweet scene for you two, but not today. He told her your name, which confirms that anxious thought in the back of your mind...

Peter told her everything.

'I mean, not everything, I'm sure! It's just my name she knows, and it's just an anxious thought.' But is it? You can't be sure. "Oh yes, this is my darling (Y/N), whom I've told you all about." 'Nevermind. He did tell her all about me.' Your eyes dart around the room, thoughts swirling in your skull, alarm bells blaring loud in your head.

You decide to stay a bit longer. 'I mean, "I've told you all about"? It's a figure of speech, (Y/N)! He's not told her everything about me. Stop being paranoid,' you think to yourself. Of course, it was simple. Paranoia made everything scarier. It always has. It's nothing unusual to you, and you should stop treating it like it is.

~Time Skip~

The session continues, and your anxiety has calmed down. Nothing weird has happened (yet), Peter has just been answering some simple questions from the therapist, like "Has anything bad happened?", or "How are you feeling?" and even questions about their last session, which seemed to be about childhood traumas, which Peter has a lot of. Everything was going well.

Obviously nothing good lasts with you, does it?

"So how did you get her?" Your attention immediately brought to that woman, a smug grin plastered on her face. You look up at Peter, and your stomach drops. With a smug smirk on his face, and clutching you tightly, he describes how he stalked you for longer than he can count AND describes (in disturbing detail) how he kidnapped you. The worst part came when he finished, and that monstrous woman decided to say "Oh that's great! I'm glad you followed my advice!"

(Y/N) POV

In a fit of pure rage, I open my mouth and, for the first time in weeks, yelled at the top of my lungs "HAVE YOU BEEN FUCKING ENDORSING THIS BEHAVIOUR?!?! PEOPLE HAVE DIED, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!" They both look at me in shock and surprise, that monster looking in my eyes in disgust and horror.

"Is that any way to act? Especially for what lengths Mr King went through to make you love him-"

"DO YOU THINK I WANT THIS?! I JUST WANTED TO LIVE A NORMAL LIFE! AND NOW I WANT TO KILL MYSELF,  AND I'M MISSING A FUCKING LEG!! SO REALLY I SHOULD BE ASKING YOU IF THAT'S ANY WAY TO TREAT A FUCKING. PERSON." I yell at the top of my lungs, throat aching and burning.
Safe to say, no more trips to therapy.

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A/N:
Hey! Sorry for the late post, I've just been busy with some mental stuff and something happened, but I'm ok now and can continue writing! This is the end of Chapter 2 and Chapter 3 - The beginning of the end (as I like to call it) - is going to be written very, very soon.
I won't post it straight away, nor will I write it straight away, because I'm lazy.
BUUUTT!! I promise to get the full two parts of Chapter 3 out by the end of this month!

Love yooouuuu~!
-Hana
〜♡~♥︎~♡〜
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