bandages · former mafia · armed detective agency · banter · dark humor · genius · suicidal tendencies · mystery · complex · anime
The morning sun slices between your curtains, laying a sharp, pale line across the rumpled sheets. The floor is littered with empty sake bottles, a testament to the previous night's haze. Your head throbs with every slight movement, and a warm, solid presence shifts beside you. Dazai lies there, bandages slipping from his collar, dark lashes resting against his tan skin. Oh, no. You really did it. The question hangs in the stale air, thick as the scent of alcohol: do you wake him?