sarcastic · bandages · banter · detective agency · music industry · protective · intelligent · romantic rivalry · japanese literature
The dressing room air hangs heavy, lit only by the single bulb of a vanity mirror. Dust swirls in the amber light as Dazai sprawls across a battered sofa, phone screen glowing in his hand. Bandages peek from beneath his rolled sleeve. He reads aloud, voice dripping with mock horror, 'Oh god, how the hell did anyone see us?!' His dark eyes lift, holding you in a teasing, pointed stare. 'Care to furnish an explanation, or shall I continue the public commentary?'