Yandere!Sebastian x Reader

Chapter7: The Dinner

Thank you for all the reads my goodness!!!! I hope I have not kept you waiting too long, my darlings. Enjoy.

(Y/N) POV
I sit down on a comfortable red and gold chair in a lavish room. I suspect that my chair is actual gold, reminding me of the wealth I am surrounded by constantly. Servants file in, as wearing attire befitting of each's status and occupation. The gruff chef and small blonde farmer stare at me with unfaltering gazes of unreadable emotions. I no longer find my chair so comfortable.

Mey-Rin slaps the back of their heads to sit down and stop staring. I suppress a laugh and a silent thanks as I tentatively turn my head to find Sebastian's eyes staring at me. His expression is pained and yet his eyes almost look as if they are glowing.

A silly fantasy of mine, of course. Besides, he looks away before I can truly inspect his unusually bright eyes. Still, they were captivating. They almost looked like a glowing
Crimson, though I worry for his pained expression, for it contrasts so much with how he had acted today. Have I done something worthy of such a cold stare? Is it even directed to me? I don't know.

I look down at the many confusing forks and knives. Oh dear.

Time Skip Curtesy of  Your Poor Etiquette

I finish cleaning the dishes, helping the other servants who were still staring as they watch me work, not helping in the slightest. Mey-Rin was not in attendance, therefore the two men could look at me without restraint. I am disturbed by this to say the least and start to rush with the dishes. In my haste, my hand slips on a plate, making it crash to the floor. This awakens the two behind me from their trance. I dare not look behind at them.

"Allow me to help miss!!!" A high girlish voice rings out.

"Piss off, let a real man help her out" a gruffer one boomed.

I hear them rush across the room to me. "No really good sirs I'm perfectly capable of attending to a plate. If anything, it would be best if you both would go to your chambers. It is so late, I'd hate for you both to be tired." I still do not turn my head to them. I hear a mumbling, a scuffle, and at long last a closing of doors.

I sigh in contentment and utter relief. I lower my head to the mess of the fine porcelain on the floor. Or is it China? Perhaps a blend, if it's possible. I haven't an eye for expensive things.

I bend down, picking up pieces of the shattered plate. It almost reminded me of myself, as stupid as that symbolism may sound. Something once beautiful, soiled by those around it. Dirt and grime and scraps, all so as to be tossed to the ground, a mere forgotten relic of something that was once valued. That's how I've always viewed myself.

Yet, this has changed. I am not shattered porcelain or broken china. Sebastian cleansed me. He did not abandon me as everyone before has. I will always be in his debt for such a service to me, a woman of no nobility or background. A worthless street urchin, saved by an Angel of the highest heavens. That's how I've always viewed him.

In my thoughts which so often engulf my consciousness, I have managed to slice my finger of a particularly sharp piece of plate.

"Ow!" I whisper with every restraint I can manage, so as not to disturb the two men from before. I suck in my pain and finish with my duties. Exiting the cursed kitchen, I take my leave into the rest of the house on to my chambers which were shown to me by Mey-Rin much earlier. Struggling with my clothes, I eventually pull on a flowing nightgown. My cut begins to sting again.

The mansion of the Phantomhives is darker than the night that surrounds it, the only light from the moon through windowpanes. Starting my search for bandages for my ever so painful cut, now gushing with a dark red, I traverse into the winding halls yet again. I have barely memorized where my room is, so I can already expect for it to be an exceedingly difficult task to make it to the infirmary.

Bumbling through, I carefully examine the rooms I pass. Each, step thrusting me into even more confusion than before. However, I stop at one particularly peculiar room. It's door is cracked open and I hear muffled noises.

"...snap out of it....such....why must she be so.......wouldn't stop looking.......bastards....." a gravelly voice groans in a muffled whisper.

Is that Sebastian? Are these Sebastian's quarters?

I lean in closer, next to the door. Who is he talking of? Mey-Rin perhaps? She did say she loved him, after all. Perhaps he returns that infatuation Maybe a duchess or countess? Who was looking at her? He is deserving of someone like that.

I frown. I've managed to make myself depressed. Nothing new there.

"Y/N"

What?

"Stop standing dumbly and come in" he continued. I yelp as the door opens and I fall into something soft. Cold to the touch.  I open my eyes, to find Sebastian's skin glowing under the moon's illuminations.

He has no coat. No tie. No vest. Only his white shirt, sleeves rolled back to expose his pale white skin, giving an ethereal glow to his beautiful frame. I look up to see his eyes shining like rubies as he peers at me with that same expression as before. A pain in his eyes. Yet this is much more intense than that.

I realize how long we have stared at each other, but I have no want to look away. Sebastian's glowing eyes travel down to my hand. I feel a hot sensation as his gaze stops on my torn skin, now stained and continuously dripping.

Sebastian's eyes widen. He turns without a word and with me still in his calming arms, lays me down on his soft dark bed. Now hovering over my body he leans in. He stops, right above my face. I can feel his breath; a warm feeling envelops me with every time he exhales.

"Look at me" he growls. I look up, only to turn away seconds later. Sebastian's face in such close proximity to mine makes me too excited to be able to think rationally. He's so close. So. So. Close. I shut my eyes. And feel his lips graze my ear.

"Y/N," I shutter, at the sound of my name from his lips. At the feeling of Sebastian Michaelis's lips on my skin. I feel him descend closer to my body in response. "Your eyes should look at me, alone."

I open my eyes, turning my head to stare into his. His face is no longer pained. I cannot place his expression, but it is much more demanding than before. "Why?" I ask in a burst of playful defiance, entranced by his beauty.

"Because I cannot bear to look at anyone other than you."

Flustered is not the word. Nor is it excitement. Certainly not dread. Anticipation.

He leans in, barely an inch from my lips. His arms pull my hands above my head. His legs intertwine with mine with a demonic smirk decorating his moonlit features. And suddenly, I know exactly what his eyes show.

Hunger.