Framed Deception (Yandere M. x F. Reader)

Sip

A/N: As usual, I would recommend putting the video on loop.

 

Delicate hands swept across the light creation. Eyes filled with an almost inhuman grace snapped the delicacy in half and watched the miniscule crumbs descend in the air to wooden floor.

Dark brown lampshades dimmed the light from the lamps upon the oak tables, which were stained in a dark finishing polish. Bookshelves lined the right and left walls. A front window permitted the late afternoon rays to shine through, but a gold-colored shade blocked out some of the sunlight. That shade also prevented the customers from seeing the café's name on the window: Bread and Books. It was a simple name, but it portrayed the purpose of the shop well.

Inside, it was mostly quiet. There was the occasional flipping of book pages, the careful sip of one's drink and the sound of customers ordering. Among all of this, there was even the delicate sound of breaking off a piece of pastry. The crispiness of the buttery treat snapped in beautiful harmony among the atmosphere.

There were only so many tables in the café: eight to be exact and four on each side. Four tables seated two, and four permitted one customer each. The shop wasn't made for conversation, but an occasional quiet one did spring up every now and then about the books, food or drink in the establishment.

The small, brass bell chimed. A few customers peered up from their books. Some quickly turned back to their readings, having lost interest in the individual. Others stared for a little longer. They wanted to access whether or not the customer understood the environment and what was expected of her. If she was a loud newcomer, she wouldn't last long in the shop. After all, not everyone saw the sign near the front door. Please keep your voice down.

None of them had to fear her presence, though. Some even recognized her. She was a regular at the shop, and she would come every other day in the late afternoon. A few knew her first name to be (f/n). Another even possessed knowledge of her last name: (l/n).

As the door closed behind her, her lush (h/c) locks bounced around her head. A red bow was on the left side of her hair and restrained some of her strands in a perfect fashion. (E/c) eyes stared ahead and at the pastry display, already choosing what delight to snack upon. Vibrant red lipstick painted her lips while the perfect amount of black eyeliner, eye shadow and mascara complimented her orbs.

Adorning her form was a simple, red blouse with ruffles around the collar and the hems of the sleeves. A black chiffon skirt flowed around her legs with an elegancy that most would never bother to possess. Red Jeannie pumps with small black bows decorated her feet and clicked lightly against the wood flooring. On her right shoulder rested a black leather purse.

Confidence rang in her step, and most couldn't keep their gaze on her for long. She did smile to a few individuals who she recognized along the way: Mr. Gregory and his wife, Mrs. Gregory. They were an elderly couple, and they came to the shop every Wednesday to share in their love of mystery novels. Sometimes, the pair would be heard reading softly to each other.

Passing by another familiar face, she dipped her head a bit in recognition. "Good afternoon, Riley." She received the gesture in return before the young adult returned to her history text on Versailles and its founding. Riley brushed back some strands of her black locks while her brown eyes took in the next paragraph of the book eagerly.