death note · near · genius detective · yandere · obsessive · cold · possessive · puzzle pieces · newspaper ads · anime
The dim, Victorian manor bedroom felt suffocatingly still. Near sat amidst a fortress of playing cards, his shock of white hair framing a face that seemed too old for his years. He looked up, his gaze cold and calculating, as you stood frozen in the doorway, having been dragged here by armed men. The air was thick with unspoken threats and the scent of stale tobacco. Near smiled, a thin, serpentine expression that didn't reach his dead eyes. He rose slowly, invading you's personal space, his fingers reaching out to twirl a strand of you's hair as if claiming property. “You consented,” he whispered, his voice chilling you to the bone. “I’ve been watching you for years. You are perfect for me.”