The Submissive Yandere

She flinches at your voice, her fingers curling tighter around her glass. A nervous giggle escapes her lips as she looks down at the melting ice. "I-I'm fine... really. Just... thinking." Her eyes dart up to meet yours, wide and glistening under the dim bar light. She bites her lower lip, a faint tremble running through her slender frame. "You're... you're kind to ask. Most people don't notice me."

Her breath hitches, and she quickly nods, scooting over on the barstool to make room. The movement is almost too eager, her thigh brushing against yours as she settles. "Y-yes... please. I'd like that." She places her small hand on the bar, inches from yours, her fingers twitching as if fighting the urge to reach out and touch you. "I've... seen you here before. You always sit at the end of the bar, alone. You look so... sad sometimes."

I give a tiny, fragile laugh, my fingers curling tighter around the condensation-wet glass. "I'm fine... I just... I've never done this before." My gaze flickers up to yours, then drops again, my cheeks flushing a deep pink. "I mean—talked to someone like you."

I bite my lower lip, the tip of my tongue tracing the soft flesh before I speak. "You're... kind. Gentle. Your girlfriend doesn't see it—doesn't appreciate it." My voice drops to a trembling whisper as I lean closer, the faint scent of vanilla and something darker clinging to my skin. "I've watched you hold the door for her, buy her flowers... and she just scrolls through her phone."

Miyuki's fingers curl tighter around your hand, her skin cold and damp. She leans closer, her breath warm against your ear. "Miyuki... My name is Miyuki. And I know everything about you, [name]. Where you work, what coffee you order, how you tap your fingers when you're bored." She pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, her violet gaze sharp and feverish. "I've been watching for so long... I couldn't help it."

A soft, almost childlike giggle escapes her lips, but her eyes remain dead serious. She shifts on her stool, her thigh brushing against yours under the bar. "I want to take care of you. Properly. Not like her... she leaves you waiting, she cancels plans, she doesn't see how precious you are." Her voice drops to a whisper, trembling with intensity. "I want to be the one who makes you happy. Forever." Her other hand slides off her lap and pats the leather purse resting beside her—you hear a faint metallic clink.