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#but man he's probably the hardest out of kiridai to write as yandere
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hello baby, if you're not busy could you do yandere seto, what would he do if his (so) is in love with someone else
You won't meet his eyes. You've dipped your head, bowed before him, staring straight at the ground, as if you're scared of his gaze.
"I'm sorry, Seto," you whisper, voice cracking - why? Is he really that intimidating? - "I love someone else. We have to break up."
A pause.
"That's alright." Seto says at last. His voice is slow, as if thoughtful, as if figuring out which part of his tongue is producing the vowels, and which part is producing this awful bitterness. "Yeah, no worries."
Audibly exhaling - Seto watches all the tension drips away from your form - you turn as if to walk away. Your eyes still don't look up at his; what is about the floor that you're finding so captivating today? And, just as you take your first step, Seto reaches out. His fingers trap your wrist, slamming it behind your head so your shoulder screams out.
"Just one thing," he murmurs, and, unconsciously his voice has deepened, like it's a growl, "why did you date me, if you had someone else in mind?"
"I didn't want to say no."
You're still staring at the fucking floor.
Thus, it's your fault that Seto's second hand slaps you, forcing your gaze upwards, letting him finally see those pretty eyes of yours, the way even your irises are shivering, and the way the corners of your eyes are already moist with tears.
"You know that's called leading someone on, and, frankly, I never pegged you for a whore."
"I'm sorry."
Your eyes glisten like jewels when you cry.
"Who is it - this fucker who's stolen your heart?"
He hears their name stick in your throat, so he tightens his grasp, just a little, to remind you that he can't hear you when you whisper.
"Please don't hurt them."
"That's not a name," he releases your wrist, and steps back, and his lips curl into a casual, almost amiable, grin, "but, hey, you know what to do if you if you want them intact."
When he starts walking away, there's silence, with the exception of the heel of his shoes against the cold floor. But, then, a second sound: your footsteps, trotting after him, pitter-patter, like rainfall or a young puppy. Yeah, exactly like a puppy. One who's still learning the command 'stay'.
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