He's everywhere [Yandere! England x reader]

He's everywhere [Yandere! England x reader] 

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There was always a pair of emerald irises that followed you around, whether it be night or day, outside or inside. They glowed like a cat's eyes in the dark as the rest of his silhouette blended in with the night. Ironic enough, he was unseen in daylight hours, where his whole body would hide him as just another random person on the street. You may have not paid any mind to the Brit, but you were always on his mind. 

It was a crisp new morning and a bird was chirping lively outside your window, singing you awake as you fluttered your eyes open. Glancing to your left to your alarm clock, you realized that you had gotten up a few minutes before you actually had to. Letting out a low groan as you buried your face in the pillow again, you remained in that position for a few moments before shooting up with inhumane speed.

Your pupils dilated and your heart skipped a beat as you were hit with a sudden reminder. 

"It's Friday!" you murmured. A wide smile graced your lips as you peeled off the blankets and proceeded to dash to the bathroom. No matter what upcoming events were on the schedule today at your workplace, the fact that it was the last weekday fueled your enthusiasm to get everything done and over with. Speedily combing your hairbrush through your smooth locks of hair, they glided through like a ship on clear waters as you had just changed your shampoo a few days ago. You then stripped off to change into your raven black striped pencil skirt and a pearly white blouse. 

The next ten minutes involved adding some finishing touches before you stormed down the flight of stairs to have a quick breakfast, then disappearing out the front door to drive to work. 

*** 

Arriving prim and proper at your office, you swiftly made your way to your own little cubicle, waving hello to some of your co-workers before sitting down on your little black office chair. That was when one of your friends, Francis, the flamboyant Frenchman came snooping around the edge of your separator. Curling his fingers around the top of the separator like the colossal titan, he peered over you and coughed. 

"Bonjour, (F/N)!" He cooed, twiddling his fingers at you. You glanced up and met with his soft lavender eyes to smile back.

"Good morning Francey pants! Great morning isn't it?" You asked, gesturing to the bright ambience that was usually ever so dull. The many faces you recognised all gleamed with joy, heads tossing around shoulders to chat with the other members in the room. Unlike most days, the blinding lights overhead that flickered ever so unnaturally were switched off, replaced by warm, yellow hued lamps standing in the rooms as well as the sun's welcoming light that poured in through the wide open windows and doors. 

He let out a soft chuckled and ruffled your hair playfully. "Can't agree more. Its nice to see my little (F/N) so enthusiastic on her favorite day," he replied with a grin. 

You let out a soft squeak and pulled away from his hands, shooting him a glare. 

"Not the hair!" 

"It seems to me that I am rubbing off on you," He commented, before sinking under the towering cubicle wall. You narrowed your eyes and felt your lips twitch into a sheepish smile. He stuck his arm up in the air with a firm thumbs up.

You rolled your eyes and rolled back to your desk, resting your arms on the hard, cool wooden desk to start up your computer. Unknown to you, there was the presence of envy that overlooked the two of you, mostly concentrated on the man who sat next to your own cubicle. The feeling was so intense that it was greener than his own eyes, and that was saying something. Muttering a few colourful words under his breath, he sat back down and buried his face in his palms and massaged it.

He absolutely hated that man, one of the reasons being that he was one of your closest friends. He was a huge flirt and player, who didn't seem to stop with his little antics around women... At least that was what he viewed him as. Moreover, watching you hang around such a pitiful excuse of a man pissed him off enough to see red, no matter what you were doing with Francis. He lifted his head from his palms and flickered his eyes over to you, concentrated eyes glued onto the screen. 

Your flat lips then upturned into a smile, much to Arthur's delight. Your smile was stunning, it was honestly one of the features of his bright side of the day. He couldn't help but stare at you, longer than he should have. He watched you with a vigilant gaze while soft pink dusted his cheeks. He always thought that this was just a harmless, puppy dog crush, but no. 

Everything just stated before was an enormous understatement. 

Not only was he socially awkward and was jealous of Francis' ability to talk his way into things, he abhorred his presence in the office. His pupils would always shrink whenever he accidentally glanced at him and his heart would pound from excess adrenaline as he held back the urge to rip off his stubble of a beard. The only thing that he liked about himself was his will to take things into his own hands instead of all the small talk. Even if his hands would be stained red after doing it. 

***

The clock ticked six, signalling to everyone in the building that it was time to close up shop. Some filed out by themselves, or in groups, eager to go out and have some fun on a Friday night. Being the diligent and hard worker you were, Ludwig entrusted you with a few more pages of paper work to do. You weren't able to say no of course, which wasn't great news for you as you were ready for a movie marathon with Alfred, strictly at half past. An idea struck your brain and you lit up.

Flicking your head over your shoulder, you caught a man dressed in a bright purple suit about to leave the vicinity. Before he stepped out of the room however, you made a beeline to the doorway and jumped onto his back, forcing a high pitched scream to be elicited from who you climbed on. You snorted out a laugh and stared up at the startled Frenchman slowly turn his head to you. His disgruntled frown softened when he noticed that the sudden assaulted wasn't some weirdo. 

"Oh it was just you. You scared me, I nearly fainted!" He groaned. Quickly shaking his shocked expression away, his eye brows started to raise up and down in a repetitive manner and he smirked at you suggestively.

"So, what happened to get you so attached to big brother Francis?" He winked, causing you to blush lightly at his remark. You used a hand to bonk him harshly on he head and shook your head.

"Ah! That hurt, you meanie!" He complained, rubbing his head that was starting to swell up. 

"I wanted to ask you a favour, don't get so hot and bothered now," You replied while you rolled your eyes. You then hopped off his back and gripped his shoulders to move his body back into the office.

"Oh? I'll always be hot and bothered for y-" 

You shoved him back into the office and you extended your index at him. "Be quiet, Francis! I just want you to finish off some of my paperwork since I need to be on a movie marathon with Alfred at six thirty, sharp! It's all laid out on my desk so you'll know where it is!" And with that, you swivelled around and ran back home. He groaned and buried his face in his hands for a moment.

"Why can't you spend more time with me and not that kid?" He murmured, lingering his longing gaze at the empty doorway where you previously stood. "Oh well. I guess I'll just do what she asked."

Seating himself on your chair, he picked out a pen and started to fill out the many pieces of paper for you. Once he was done with the last boxes of the last form, he stretched his limbs out, causing a few satisfying pops to sound down his spine. Standing up and hunching over, he placed a hand on his lower back and caressed it with a dejected expression. A dark shadow was cast over his features.

"I'm getting too old for this," he muttered. Francis extended a sig that passed through his lips and glanced back to the litter of papers to organise them in chronological order. By then, it was already a little pass seven, which urged Francis to hurry and leave to go home. He threw on his tan coat and buried his hands in the large pockets before walking out of the building. 

A vast black sea of stars glowed and twinkled above him, giving him a little bit of reassurance for staying out so late. 

But if course that didn't mean that nothing would happen.

Passing a large alleyway, he swore that he caught the slightest movement that lurked in the shadow in between the enclosed walls. Flinching and turning his head slowly to stare at the deep abyss of nothing, the fear painted on his face intensified when a flicker of bright green flashed at him, then disappeared in a fast blur. Taking a step back, his back made contact with someone's chest that stood only inches behind him. Inhaling sharply, he swallowed his fear and cleared his throat to apologise to the person he had bumped into.

"Ah, mon ami. I am very sorry for bumping into you." He started, turning around to reveal a familiar face. He widened his eyes and the apologetic expression faded into dumbfoundedness.

"Arthur? What are you doing out here?" He questioned the man, being treated with a long period of silence as a response. "Hey, are you listening to me?"

He narrowed his eyes and his irises appeared to darken a few shades that it appeared black in the atmosphere of the night. Shooting his hand around his collar, he clutched it tightly and lifted up Francis a few inches off the ground. The victim let out a yelp and he glowered his widened eyes at his colleague. His feet were hovering over the ground and he felt the airflow in his lungs start to disappear and eventually become cut off entirely. 

"W-what are you doing? I can't breathe!" He coughed out weakly, where Arthur smiled softly in response. He slammed his back onto the hard brick wall of the alleyway and leaned in his face to his. Craning his head to a side with a dangerous, psychotic gaze, it burned into Francis' frightened ones.

"Good." He whispered. 

Francis furrowed his brows and he shook his head. "What?"

All of a sudden Francis felt like he was staring at death in the face, or perhaps even worse. He always knew Arthur as that one grumpy and weird guy at his office, where he would occasionally tease him to the point he'd snap at him and call him a frog. He didn't expect him to be so mad over such minimal things however.

"Did you not hear what I said?" He hissed. "Isn't it great to know that you've stopped breathing? You've been so annoying these couple of days, frog face." 

Francis' eyes fell to the ground, then to Arthur's pants when something metallic glimmered in his pocket. Glancing back to meet with a hardened glare, he sucked in a sharp breath as his heart started to pump excess adrenaline through his veins. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he struggled against Arthur's vice grip that held him pinned to the wall like some sort of poster.

"What are you going to do to me?" He coughed out with the last remainder of his breath.

A sinister smile curled his lips and he reached for what Francis had been staring at, pulling it out to reveal a sharp knife. Holding tightly to his neck, he carved a smooth line that left a trail of red to appear on his skin. 

"I hate you a lot, you know. Especially since you act so chummy with (F/N)." He muttered, words dripping with venom. "And I won't accept that. Hope you're old enough to the point that you wouldn't mind sleeping in your grave tonight."

Thrusting the sharp tip of the knife into his neck, it plunged deep into his flesh, killing him instantly. Finishing him off with a twist of the knife, he pulled it out gracefully, allowing ropes of blood to spurt out of the gaping hole in his neck. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he collapsed onto the ground, the pool of red spreading fast over the area of concrete like wildfire. With one last look over his work, he inserted the knife into his jacket and walked off like nothing ever happened.

***

You hugged Alfred goodbye, watching his goofy figure run off into the darkness. Shutting the door with a click, you walked back to your sofa and plummeted down onto the cushion and faced the TV screen again. It was nearly twelve. Maybe you should have let Alfred stay the night. Dismissing that thought with a shrug of the shoulder, you turned on the TV and started to explore through the channels with a bored expression. 

As if your finger slipped, you accidentally selected the news channel, the last resort you would ever choose. 

There were many reasons that you despised that channel so much. 

"Young man in his twenties found stabbed to death in alleyway"

Your swallowed thickly and suddenly all your senses heightened by at least ten notches. The further you watched the more paranoid you became, as the details of the murder had indicated that the location was indeed just outside your workplace, meaning that it would have been likely that the victim would have been someone you knew. They finally reached he part you dreaded the most, the identity of the victim.

"Twenty four year old Francis Bonnefoy, an employee of-" 

That was all it took to send a wave of nausea to wash over you, turning your churning stomach upside down. You clutched your head and buried your face in your hands, feeling heat rush to your face and hot balls of tears to start rolling down your face. You broke out into an outburst of tears, the fat beads of liquid cascading down your flaming face like the never ending rain against a window pane in Britain. You could tell that the grief that consumed your heart would last longer than ever, but you wouldn't bother trying to get out of it.

Not only were you now in a relentless series of sobbing, you were engulfed with guilt as this was all partly your fault. If only you had done the work that you were set with and not bother others. If only you were actually the oh so diligent worker you were dubbed as. Francis would be still breathing if it weren't for your laziness. 

"It's all my fault!" You wailed, switching off the traumatic news and curling up on the couch into a tight ball. "I'm so stupid..."

The next hour involved sobbing over the loss of a dear friend that you already missed, which was an hour well spent. Eventually, you calmed down, but you were absolutely certain you might continue doing this tomorrow. As the last tears fell from your burning red eyes, they dried to form wet trails of crooked lines down your face. Your throat was also parched dry from screaming and crying, so you made your way to the kitchen to fill a glass of water. 

Gulping it it down like no tomorrow, you placed it on the counter but knocked over your bin in the process, causing the black garbage bag to topple over. You rolled your eyes and huffed in annoyance as you picked it up and headed out the door to throw it out. You shut the lid of your trash can outside and sighed, a little thankful for the cool breeze of the night, whispering in your ear as reassurance. Lingering outside for a couple of minutes, you were mesmerised by the full circle of a moon and let it lull you into a daze.

A pang of sadness speared through you once more, forcing to shoot back up and return back home. As soon as you stood up however, two arms wrapped around your stomach and pulled you into a backwards embrace. Your blood ran cold and you feared that you were going to be next. Despite fearing for your life, a small voice called to you that it wouldn't be as bad since you were going to be with a dear friend, so you didn't bother fighting back.

The mysterious figure behind you cupped a hand over your mouth and he leaned his head to you neck just under your ear. 

"Goodnight love," he whispered, the velvety voice sending chills down your spine. He retracted his hand around your mouth to only replace it with his other, but this time a small square of moist white cloth was clutched in his fingers. Pressing it it gently to your nose and mouth, the sickenly sweet scent it was enthused with filled your nose and lungs, sending you into a deep, unconscious sleep.

You recognised this voice. You knew this person. You just couldn't pin point it as you were too torn up with grief, as well as betrayal.