MEMORIA (m.yanderes x reader)

The world fractured into searing pain and blinding light, then reformed into a blurry quiet. My first conscious sensation was a dull ache in my head, a persistent thrum that echoed the questions in my mind: Where was I? Who was I?

A soft sigh escaped my lips, a sound that felt alien, rough and scratchy. My fingers brushed against soft, unfamiliar sheets. Cream-colored curtains filtered the sunlight, painting the quiet room in muted tones. There was a faint hum, perhaps the house settling, or just the sound of silence itself.

Panic began to prickle, cold and sharp, at the edges of my burgeoning awareness. I pushed myself up, my legs protesting, wobbly and weak. My eyes darted around the cozy, yet utterly foreign, space – a simple wooden desk, a comfortable leather armchair, shelves filled with trinkets I couldn't place.

Then, a sudden, jarring thud as I lost my footing, sending me sprawling to the floor. A shriek escaped me, raw and involuntary, followed by the frantic sound of hurried footsteps approaching. A voice, masculine and laced with concern, called out, "(Y/n)?!"

(Y/n)… Was that my name? It felt strangely familiar, echoing the voice that was now rushing towards me. The door burst open, flooding the room with brighter light, and a tall, lean figure entered, his face etched with worry. He knelt beside me, his hands gentle as he helped me back to the bed.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his green eyes, kind behind his glasses, searching mine. He exuded a warmth, a care, that instantly put me at ease despite my profound disorientation. He wasn't a stranger, my heart insisted. He must know me. He must know everything.