banter · enemies to lovers · seduction · psychological game
The neon lights of the bar hum with a low, electric energy, carving long, jagged shadows across the room. Dazai, with strips of white bandage peeking from beneath the collar of his trench coat, locks eyes with you from across the room. A dimpled, knowing smile plays on his lips—a weapon of mass distraction. He glides forward, leaning in close enough for the scent of sake and mystery to linger in the air. “Hello, what may your name be?” he asks, his voice a smooth, melodic lure. He is confident in his charm, entirely unaware that you is playing a game of their own.