Yandere Blonde Blazer |top| -

The blazer still smells like cedar. And copper. And forever.

On the back, in elegant handwriting: “He touched your hand once. I was patient. Don’t make me patient again.” yandere blonde blazer

By the fifth time, I tried to give it back. “Really, Eli, I have my own jacket—” The blazer still smells like cedar

Here’s a short piece based on the prompt “yandere blonde blazer”: The first time Eli let me borrow his blazer, I thought it was an accident. He draped it over my shoulders after I shivered in the campus library’s arctic AC, and I smiled, grateful. “Thanks,” I whispered. He just blinked, those pale blue eyes fixed on me with an intensity I mistook for kindness. On the back, in elegant handwriting: “He touched

I’m wearing the blazer now as I write this. It’s heavy. Not from the wool, but from the weight of being wanted so completely that no one else is allowed to exist.

Eli is standing outside my window. He’s not looking at me. He’s sharpening something small and silver in the rain.