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darlinqdearest-blog · 6 years ago

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Gen-Z Yandere and/or Darling prompt: "This is so sad. Alexa, play Despacito".

Date night, he called it. His weekly attempt to be a loving boyfriend, to prove that he’s worthy of your attention. Usually, his attempts were more subtle than this. A bouquet of flowers, letting you go spend a few minutes outside, cooking your favorite meal… small things, ignorable things. You could simply refuse to participate, and he would just yell for a while before letting you wallow in your self-pity. It wasn’t a routine you liked, but it was one you could stand.

However, the sobbing musician in front of you was much harder to ignore. Luca had introduced her, but her name hadn’t stuck with you. Ava? Anna?

Seeing the girl, chains keeping her ankles bound loosely to the wall, sent a wave a nausea washing over you. She made no attempt to act strong or comply with her captor’s demands, only laying over the piano and attempting to stifle her cries. Part of you was tempted to reach out. You’d been alone when Luca first dragged you here, but she didn’t have to be. Unfortunately, the boy currently kneeling in front of you acted as an incredible deterrent. The rope keeping your wrists bound behind your back wasn’t very encouraging, either.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think this would be so disappointing,” Luca mumbled, resting his chin in your lap. He seemed to have forgotten the kidnapped girl sitting less than ten feet away, or maybe he just didn’t care. It was getting hard to tell, honestly. He smiled gently, starting to draw soft circles into your ankle. “I thought live music would be… romantic, y’know? A treat, for both of us.” His smile dropped. You could practically hear the venom already, even before he continued. “If only someone hadn’t been so fucking disagreeable.”

Briefly, a field of fowl flashed through your mind. You imagined a little girl staring at you. Look at this chicken, she would say, peering into your soul. Look at all these chickens. You didn’t want to be a chicken, not if you could help it. You swallowed dryly, gathering up the will to speak. “It’s not completely her fault, if you think about it.”

“Are you blaming me, dear?” You shifted, uncomfortable with his new, threatening tone. Still, chickens are dumb, and they’re cowards. And you are not a coward. This mild aggression was only fueled by his laugh. “Why wouldn’t our guest be delighted to help me out?”

“Cause you’re not that cute,” You said, the words coming out too hastily. But, Luca didn’t react. “And your hair’s uneven…” He flinched, and you shrugged. While your hesitance remained, the satisfaction was undeniable. “You look dusty.”

Luca glared, and you averted your eyes, biting back a smile. The girl crossed your line-of-sight, but she wasn’t crying anymore. Her head was still buried in a pile of arms and lacy fabric, but her breaths had noticeably evened out. It was bothering you, now. What the hell was her name? Alexandria? Alex? Luca drove his nails into the skin of your calf, most likely drawing blood. He snarled, and you choked back a string of curses. “It’s like you want me to carve your tongue out.”

At this, the musician perked up. Your eyes met hers, a look of determination sweeping over her features. ‘Do it’, she mouthed, as to not draw Luca’s attention. You only had to nod, her hands already taking their places on the piano’s keys. “This is so sad…” You trailed off, her name suddenly coming to you. It felt natural on your tongue, a sign that you two were definitely going to be friends. Well, assuming Luca didn’t kill either of you. “Alexa, play Despacito.”

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