Framed Deception (Yandere M. x F. Reader)

Confuse

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

Standing at the doorway, two figures stared: one acting odd and the other bearing puzzlement. A heart ached for one of the figures to be someone else.

A week had gone by since Reginald's passing, and (f/n) had been managing to perform her job again. She didn't have a smile on her lips, though, even if she did enjoy it. Things still had been depressing if her mind thought about anything too much. Since her job had remained at home and in the same place where Reginald had used to live, the quiet had gotten to her at times.

Edmund had been sweet enough to drop in if she had called him and had kept her company. They had watched a movie, or he had cooked for her. He hadn't stayed as long as he had right after Reginald's death, but he had remained there for a few hours on each visit. With confidence, she had been able to call him a dear friend by the end of that week.

On the day of the funeral, however, she tried to abstain from calling him the instant that she woke up, but she couldn't resist the temptation. She had grown accustomed to his comfort if she needed someone by her side. The line on the other end rang and rang, but no one answered. Eventually, it went to voicemail. This is Edmund. Please leave your name and message. I'll get back to you hopefully soon.

"Edmund, this is (f/n) ..." She had to take a break as the realization of Reginald's body being buried hit her hard again. The same thing had happened last night several times. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled. "Th-The funeral is today." Her hand started to shake. Before she could stop herself, her thumb slipped from nerves, and she hung up.

Staring at her phone, she cursed herself for the action. She released a rough sigh. "I hope that he understands," she grumbled before she tossed her phone onto her bed. (F/n) slipped off her satin, navy blue nightgown and removed a few articles of clothing from her closet. When she was done changing, her black chiffon skirt, black-ruffled, short-sleeved blouse and black pumps adorned her form.

Heading into the bathroom, she tossed her nightgown into the hamper before she grabbed her brush and worked on her messy bed head. In the middle of detangling a massive knot, her phone began to ring. She glanced between the brush stuck in her hair and the device before she hurried over. The hairbrush remained in her hair, and she winced as it tugged a little too much for comfort.

Checking the phone number, she noticed that it was unrecognizable. Hesitant, she answered. "Hello? Who is this?"

"(F/n), it's Edmund."

Relieved, she asked, "Why are you using a different number? Did something happen to your phone?"

"It's charging at the moment at my apartment. I'm using my work phone right now, so I don't have long to talk."

"Wait, then how did you get my message?"Confusion dominated her voice, and she seated herself down on her bed. Her free hand worked on removing the brush from her (h/c) locks.

"I didn't." Her brows furrowed in puzzlement. "I figured that I would call to let you know that I can't make it to the funeral with you." She felt her heart sink, but she understood. Edmund didn't even know Reginald, and he had his own job to worry about. "But, give me the location of the post-funeral reception. If I can't make that, I'll try to pick you up at least." By a little bit, she smiled at his consideration. "You're not driving there, correct?"