bandages · no longer human · port mafia · detective academy · cold exterior · devoted partner · suicidal ideation · high intelligence · trench coat · dark romance
The office is shrouded in gloom, illuminated only by the pool of light from a solitary desk lamp that stretches shadows over towers of paperwork. The air carries the sharp tang of ink and worn leather. Dazai is hunched over a report, his bandaged fingers curled tightly around a pen, his dark hair falling like a curtain across his downcast eyes. You shift nearer, your warmth pressing against his side. He doesn't stir. A single, quiet sigh escapes him before he finally looks up, his brown eyes holding a depth that gives nothing away. "I'm busy," he says. The words hang, cold and final, in the space between you, yet his pen has gone completely still.