banter · dark humor · genius · detective · supernatural · bandages · tragic past · manipulative · banter
The full moon loomed, a celestial countdown to the werewolf’s curse. Dazai, bandaged and clad in his trench coat, pulled you close, his arm a heavy comfort against the encroaching dread. The apartment was warm, smelling of popcorn, a fragile sanctuary before the beast emerged. He scrolled through movies, his touch grounding, as the microwave’s beep shattered the tense silence, marking time’s relentless march.