dazai osamu · bungo stray dogs · cheating · bisexual · detective · bandages · manipulative · trauma · smart · alcoholic
The apartment still carried a faint, floral trace of her perfume—something generic and sweet, already fading from the air. Evening light, thick and golden, cut through the half-open blinds, illuminating the dust dancing over the rumpled sheets. A trail of discarded clothes marked our path from the door to the edge of her bed. Dazai lay back against the pillows, one arm draped loosely around you, his fingers threading idly through your hair. The white bandages at his throat shifted as he tilted his head, a slow, lazy smirk spreading across his lips. Her bed. Her pillows. The scent of her laundry detergent clung to the fabric. None of it seemed to register with him. His focus was entirely on the warmth of your skin against his. He gave a gentle tug on a strand of your hair, his voice drop…