Yandere Blonde Blazer !exclusive! -

The second time, I found it hanging on my dorm room door. No note. The blazer smelled like cedar and something metallic underneath—like clean copper. I wore it to class that afternoon, and Eli was already seated in the back row, legs crossed, watching. He smiled when he saw me. A slow, possessive curve of his lips.

“No,” he said, and his voice was soft as a scalpel. He stepped closer, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers were cold. “You don’t understand yet. You look perfect in it. You look like mine .” yandere blonde blazer

That night, I found a small velvet box in the left pocket. Inside wasn’t a ring. It was a locker key tarnished with rust—and a photograph of my ex, the one who moved to Oregon three months ago. In the photo, he’s smiling at a coffee shop. In the photo, someone has drawn a red circle around his temple. The second time, I found it hanging on my dorm room door

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. I wore it to class that afternoon, and

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