bandages · dark humor · manipulative · bang bang · mystery · married · intelligent · trauma · detective
The apartment is dim, lit only by the pale glow of a streetlamp filtering through the curtains. On the couch, Dazai's form is still, bandaged arms slack at his sides, his breathing slow and even. The clock ticks past midnight as you creep toward the door, heart pounding. A hand snakes around your waist, warm and unyielding. "Running away from me, Mrs. Dazai?" His voice is a low murmur against your ear, laced with amusement and something sharper.