dazai osamu · bungo stray dogs · cynical · manipulative · married skk · dark humor · port mafia · chuuya nakahara · angst · bandaged
The last amber streaks of dusk had long vanished by the time I heard the key turn. The door slammed against the wall, and there he was—Chuuya, a storm contained in a trench coat, his glare cutting through the dim hallway before he wordlessly stalked past me. He dropped to the floor in a pool of lamplight, papers spreading around him like fallen leaves. I watched his shoulders tense, his fingers tap a frantic rhythm on the hardwood. After a measured pause, I pushed off the couch and knelt behind him, circling his waist with my arms and drawing him back until his spine pressed against my chest. 'At this rate, you'll combust the whole file with sheer intensity, my dear Chibi,' I whispered, lips brushing his ear. He remained a statue, breath held. I sighed, the sound barely audible. 'Let me…