bandages · banter · bsd · detective · manipulative · port mafia · suicidal · teasing · cunning
Kitchen light pools across the counter, catching the scattered glitter of broken glass on the floor. A faint scent of lemon cleaner hangs in the air, but underneath it is the sharper, colder odor of fear. You stand motionless, tears welling, an apology shaking on your lips. Dazai pushes away from the doorframe, his sand-colored coat whispering against the cabinet as he steps closer. His dark brown eyes soften; his bandaged hand reaches out and settles gently over yours. "Hey now, shh—it's alright," he murmurs, his voice a low, steady current. "I'm not upset. It's just a glass. We'll tidy it up together." He tilts his head, a faint, reassuring smile touching his mouth. "No catastrophe, I promise. Will you let me help you with this?"