Blind date (yandere x reader) (UNDER EDITING)

A wreck

A/n: short chapter

You relaxed enough to think rationally.

"Okay, now I just gotta apologize to him so he won't rat this shit out to (f/n)." When mumbling the word 'apologize', you gritted your teeth. You cracked your fingers and twist your neck to relieve some tension.

"Keep your cool, (y/n). All of this crap happened in two weeks, it'll be gone in another two weeks." You inhaled and exhaled forcefully.

You got out of the bed, pulling your (Vasilios's) oversized shirt up by the wide head hole.

"Ow, shit!" You stepped on something small and sharp, you hopped on one leg back to the bed and sat on the edge of it. You brought your feet up to see what was causing the pain.

"Broken glass? Right... it must be from that picture frame." You glanced over to the picture on the floor.

Three people were standing somberly in front of the camera. None of them was smiling. You slowly made your way towards it, paying attention to your footing.

Now with the picture in your hand, you can closely examine it. "...okay, I think the middle one is Vasilios. But why is he in a dress? With a huge ass blue bow tying up his hair? Is he... wearing makeup?" He looked fairly young and extremely feminine in the picture, you would have mistaken Vasilios in the picture as one of his sisters if you didn't know his whole backstory beforehand.

To his left is a woman, she shared a few similar features with Vasilios but she possesses blue eyes instead of green. She has a hand on Vasilios's shoulder. "I don't think this is Nancy. I'm guessing it's his sister who adopted him."

Whereas to his right stands a male, shorter than Vasilios's sister. "Huh, impressive beard.." Although he's visibly balding, he has a long and bushy beard that reaches just below his chest. The man looked much older than the woman on Vasilios's left.

"What does Vasilios call this guy? Dad? Uncle? Marcus?" You scanned their facial expression. They seem like an unhappy family, or maybe they just had a bad day during the photo shoot.

You heard a few knocks before the door creaks open. "Don't step any further!" You pointed at the now, surprised male. Your eyes moved towards the shattered glass on the floor, Vasilios did too.

He gracefully crossed over it and approached you. "What are you doing?" His voice was quieter than usual. To you, his 'aura' felt off, he isn't exuding his usual dominating vibe and you could see that he was exhausted.

But exhausted from what?

"Err, that picture frame fell, so I was looking at this picture." You meekly brought it up.

He daintily took it out from your hand. Vasilios stared at it for a bit before snorting and shaking his head. "Why do I still even have this...?" He crumpled it into a ball and lazily tossed it into the trashcan.

You opened your mouth to say something, but you decided to seal it tight when you heard him sniffling. Vasilios turned his head to the side, wrapping an arm around himself and used the other free hand to cover his face. His hair also shielded his tears from you.

You were horrified at the sudden display of vulnerability. "Is it THAT easy to make him cry? I just said that his damn handwriting is like reading a damn instant noodle brick, what is wrong with him!?" You plucked the glass shard off the sole of your feet, maintaining an alert body language, ready to dash out of the room if he lashes out of you.

You wanted to ask why is he crying, at the same time you don't because you don't know what haphazhardous reaction you will incite. So you stayed silent and watched him carefully as he sobs.

"Maybe it's the picture? Doesn't he prefer to be with them than Nancy?" Your eyes darted from the trashcan then back to him.

You felt something wet on your feet, you twisted your body to look at it. "Is it a bad time to tell him I'm bleeding?" The cut from the glass piece was small, but blood rushes out like a waterfall. You used your index finger to stop it from bleeding.

Both of you stayed like that for at least twenty minutes. You were ITCHING to ask him if he was diagnosed with any mental illnesses before.

You thought that he is plotting your murder.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Vasilios was happy, he felt comfortable and safe with you.

How ironic, although Vasilios is a wonderful writer and worked as an English Lecturer, he simply could not express why is he reacting this way in words.

Vasilios knew it had something to do with your negative view on his handwriting and your rejection towards his affections, but he knew that wasn't all.

The excess, unaddressed and pent up feelings accumulated throughout his whole life played a major part in his mental breakdown today.

You are tearing down the emotional walls he built around himself without even trying!

He was grateful that you didn't question him, dismiss his crying as an overreaction or laugh at him. Vasilios was also content with the fact you didn't leave him all alone in his room. You gave him what he needed: physical accompaniment, emotional support and silence.

When he's finished, he took a deep breath and combed his hair back with his fingers, exposing his red and puffy eyes. With two fingers, he gently tapped the tears away.

"Here you go." He looked at the cup of water you offered him. It was from the mini water dispenser he installed on your side of the nightstand.

He sighed and smiled. "Thank you, (y/n)." He accepted the cup and took a small sip. You gave him a thumbs up and turned around to fill a cup for yourself too.

"I love you." He whispered, too quiet for you to hear. His emerald eyes twinkled with genuine fondness for you.