An excruciatingly frigid breeze whooshed past the lone figure, nearly causing it to stumble. The terrifying howls of the wind nearly seemed poetic. Not a figure was in sight- though if she looked a bit closer, upon further inspection, in her peripheral vision, she would have been able to see a man scrambling to get into a vehicle dressed in heavy clothes, his gelid eyes matching the ferocious snowstorm. Everything seemed not to be basked in pleasant warmth like usual, but an unusual, torturous chill in the air hugged the frost-bound surroundings. Her limbs seemed to have been numbed and she wondered how many more steps she could last.
She knew she wouldn't live for long.
How did she even end up here? The fog around her seemed to have contaminated her mind, not allowing her to form a single cohesive thought. Her legs begged her to stop walking and succumb to the cold, but she didn't, the small flicker of hope that someone would eventually rescue her never left her mind. Maybe, just maybe, she could feel the mellow comfort of her fireplace once again, blissfully avoidant of the storm raging outside her small bubble that was her home.
However, in the tresses of her psyche was a person's figure etched. She couldn't quite place who it was, though she remembered it was a he. Someone whom she had once deeply yearned for. Perhaps she still did. The misty masses of her mind didn't allow her to gather any details that held any weight whatsoever. She speculated on who could've engraved such deep impressions into her very being, not leaving her even on the brink of death.
With a light gasp, she collapsed onto the footpath littered with snow, her eyes drooping as every last bit of energy seemed to be leaving her. Her parched throat screamed for water, her body begging for warmth, her heart sobbing for comfort.
Tears pricked the corner of her eyes, threatening to spill out. She couldn't recall her own name, but something echoed in her skull that made her aware of how deeply she had been hurt. A flash of orange passed her by, a concerned voice asking her something, though not a single word pierced through her brain. Everything seemed so foreign, their languages unfamiliar.
As the last bits of consciousness left her, a final semblance of a thought formed in her mind.
You'll always be my muse.
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I'd woken up in cold sweats, panting lightly. I didn't jerk up from my futon or start crying; nothing dramatic. I just stared at the ceiling emptily. I couldn't piece together the dream I just had, but I knew it wasn't pleasant.
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Make You Mine (Yandere!Demon Slayer x Fem!Reader)
Fanfiction(Y/n) had always been maltreated by her family. When her mother was murdered, she was left alone with her dad and was continually tormented by him. (Y/n) decided to run away to an address her mother gave her a week before her death. Little did she k...
