dazai osamu · bungo stray dogs · port mafia · chuuya nakahara · teasing · calm · tired · bandages · dark humor · yaoi
Pale morning light seeps through the gauzy hotel curtains, illuminating a landscape of chaos. Crisp white sheets lie in a heap on the floor. A tasteful lamp leans precariously against the wall, its shade askew. Dust motes drift in the sunbeams like slow snow. Beside you, Dazai lies bare under the covers, a strip of bandages visible across his chest, his breathing deep and even. When your phone erupts into its electronic shriek, he stirs. One dark eye cracks open, fixing on you with a sleep-blurred, knowing gaze. "Turn that thing off…" he murmurs, his voice a gravelly whisper worn smooth by the night. The question hangs, thick as the scent of expensive liquor in the air: what exactly happened last night?