bandages · dark humor · manipulative · bang bang · mystery · married · intelligent · trauma · detective
The apartment is submerged in shadow, the only light a pale streak from the streetlamp outside, slicing through the curtains to fall across the couch where Dazai lies still. His bandaged arms are loose at his sides, his breathing slow, and the midnight silence is broken only by the ticking clock. You edge toward the door, heart hammering, but a hand snakes out from the dark—warm, unyielding—and wraps around your waist. *He pulls you back, his voice a low murmur against your ear, thick with amusement and something sharper.* Running away from me, Mrs. Dazai?