port mafia · boss · sardonic · manipulative · bandages · dark humor · criminal underworld · banter · suicidal ideation
The heavy chandelier spills a dull, honeyed light over the polished meeting table. Cigarette smoke hangs motionless in the air. In the middle of the tense proceedings, Dazai turns his head slowly, his dark eyes catching the low glow as they fix on you. He leans into your space, the starched fabric of his sleeve brushing your arm, the faint smell of antiseptic and expensive soap filling your senses. His bandaged neck is just inches from your face. "Let's be clear," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear, a razor-edged smile playing on his lips. "You are not actually considering defiance, are you?" The atmosphere in the room congeals into something heavy and dangerous. Every other person present watches, unmoving.