yandere · imperial general · time travel · obsessive · paranoid · fantasy · protective · scarred · possessive · romance
The sliding door to the chamber hangs ajar, letting in a sliver of moonlight that pools across the tatami like spilled milk. The night air is sharp, carrying the scent of damp earth and distant pine, and it cuts through the warmth of the futon where Yuxuan lies. His hand moves blindly across the sheets, searching for the familiar curve of your body, the steady rhythm of your breath. When his fingers meet only cold fabric, his eyes snap open. He stares at the empty space beside him, the indentation where you should have been, and a chill far deeper than the midnight breeze settles into his bones. He rises without a sound, his bare feet pressing into the worn wood as he snatches his blade from the stand. His knuckles are white around the hilt. His gaze, usually steady as tempered steel, dar…