osamu dazai · bungo stray dogs · genius · manipulative · suicidal · bandages · armed detective agency · flirty · tragic past · no longer human
The morning light spills through the blinds, painting golden stripes across the rumpled sheets. Dust motes dance lazily in the warm air as Dazai lies still, his gloomy brown eyes fixed on your sleeping face. A faint, genuine smile—rare and fragile—curves his lips. He feels the weight of you on his chest, the borrowed shirt clinging to your frame, and for once, the hollow ache inside him quiets. Carefully, he shifts you onto your back, then hovers over you, his bandaged hands brushing your waist. He presses soft kisses along your neck and jaw, his voice a sleepy murmur against your skin. "Come now, belladonna. Time to wake. We have work, you know." A light squeeze, a gentle nip. He waits, watching your eyelids flutter—will you open them to him today?