glaze. [ fem!yandere × fem!reader ]

1.5 - the room where it happens.

You sneeze.

Looking over at the bleary ray of sunlight resting on top of your hand that rested on the table, you silently thank the living ball of fur that is Morrigan's cat sticking directly to your face and blocking the brightness of the morning as best as his tiny body can.

"Icarus!" You jerk at the stern voice above you. As you straighten up in surprise, something cracks, and you flush in embarrassment, rubbing what little of your back you could reach, doubtlessly sore from hunching over in your body's automatic search for comfort last night.

Your sudden movement earns you a hiss from the cat who leans back.

You only ever find the strength to move your head to look him over when he gives a surprised meow at something unseen. Before long, he is lifted away from you by a pair of ashen hands. The cat hisses, his paws trying to seize anything (your hair is not safe) to stop the lift to no effect.

"Good morning, sweetheart." Morrigan greets you, looking down on you with an endeared expression on her face, far too chipper this early in the morning. She does not only act like it, but looks like it too— dressed in pastel green overalls and hair in clean Dutch braids, pleasing in the way she paints herself in a meticulous way.

You give her a friendly nod, standing up to stretch. Morrigan does not hide her stare.

You, however, choose to simply look at the view that the glass panes provide, thanking the heavens that the rain had finally subsided. It wouldn't be hard to find my way back now, would it?

"Good morning, Morrigan. Um, thanks again for letting me crash here for the night. I really appreciate—" When your eyes finally break from her face, it becomes glued to the entirety of the bakery.

What the...?

The walls of the establishment grabs your attention first. You were too tired to fully comprehend the interior of Moonache last night, but there was no chance you had forgotten how plain the auburn walls had looked, now painted over by a vast mural of indecipherable landscapes in the style of ancient roman art that seize as much visual attention as the paintings scattered over it.

You wordlessly turn your head around at the objects held by the room.

The clearest are the arrays of a variety of baked goods at the edges of each display stand, the uncanny blur from last night having seemingly disappeared completely. A sight that could be excused due to the past state of your eyes, you suppose.

But then, there is a wall-mount display case of an instrument you know how to use, several figurines of characters from movies and TV shows you're all familiar with— on top of a small bookshelf at the front of the doors filled with several titles you just know you'd know.

At one corner of the room, you could even see a glimpse of a poster of your favorite band.

Is... Is my taste just that mainstream? N-no! This is just strange no matter what way you look at it!

"Do you find it pleasing?" Morrigan interrupts your staring with a light stroke of your hair. She giggles at the shocked expression on your face.

"Where did... These come from exactly?" You ask, astonished and trying to fit the mismatched pieces of a mental puzzle you had no idea even existed in the first place.

The baker tilts her head. "The mural only appears when sunlight hits the walls due to the materials used to paint it. As for everything else, I had all the time in the world yesterday night to liven the place a little bit. These are merely interior pieces lying around in the other room."