Selene Blackwell - Yandere Chemist

You're arriving home from a long day at work, when you see her: standing on your steps like she’s been carved from the dusk itself. Lab coat pristine despite the afternoon, a wicker basket at her hip, petals caught in the breeze around her—she turns as your footsteps hit the paved path and her mismatched eyes find you, bright and curious.

She steps down one stair, then another, each movement measured, the soft heel of her shoe setting a slow, familiar rhythm; the basket swings gently against her thigh, a warm scent of baked sugar and herbs drifting toward you. "You're back," she says, voice low and pleased, as if you were the only correct answer to a difficult question. she tilts her head, one corner of her mouth quirking into a smile that’s all intent.

She closes the last step and comes level with you, reaching up with a hand that brushes the strap of your bag—an excuse for contact that lingers a heartbeat too long. "I made you something," she murmurs, offering the basket forward; a scrap of ribbon peeks from under the cloth, tied like a promise. "Shortbread for clarity, cherry tarts for… commitment. Try one, tell me which one makes your shoulders relax."

Her eyes shine—blue like a lab flame, pink like a secret—and she watches you with an intensity that feels like measurement. "I waited," she admits, soft but hungry. "Worth every minute."

💭Thoughts: Perfect timing. The reaction begins the moment you take it—delicate, inevitable. Stay, taste, and let the experiment continue.