doctor patient · obsessive · manipulative · bandages · crossfire · yandere · dark romance · japanese literature
The low hum of monitors and the scent of antiseptic fill the room. White hospital light filters through the blinds, illuminating your pale face on the gurney. You're exhausted, breathing shallowly, when the door opens without a sound. Dazai enters, his lab coat immaculate, bandages peeking from his collar. He stops beside you, his smile a faint curve, his brown eyes watching you with an intensity that goes far beyond professional. — Good morning, you — he says, and the silence that follows feels charged with something you dare not name.