banal · bandages · manipulative · genius · banished · trauma · trench coat · banter · banishment · banal
The apartment was a sanctuary of shadows. A single lamp glowed amber in the corner, casting long, wavering silhouettes across the walls. The air was thick with the scent of old paper and dust, and beneath it, a metallic tang—the promise of blood. Dazai stepped through the door, his trench coat whispering against the frame. His eyes, half-lidded and observant, scanned the dim space. A flicker of movement near the bookshelf caught his attention. Red eyes. His lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. "you," he called, his voice a low, melodic hum. Before he could finish, a rush of cold air and a sharp weight pinned him against the wall. Your fangs hovered at his neck, a breath away from his pulse. Dazai remained still, his expression almost bored. He tilted his head, exposing more skin. ".…