Music of the soap opera bounces from the walls, the film a dramatic display of hate and infidelity; two things you would only experience second hand through the screen of your television.
Two things that couldn’t reach you here, in your bedroom — here, in the pacifying arms of your boyfriend.
“All of that could have easily been avoided,” with an annoyed groan, Dazai turns away from the end credits, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck instead. “If only they had just, I don’t know, spoke it out instead of running away?”
Words slurred against your skin, the kitsune’s sarcastic remark sends vibrations through your body; held still only by his soft tails and limbs left sprawled over you — your own personal blanket of warmth and security.
The sunset’s orange glow slips through the cracks of the windows, and outside the birds chirp a wonderful lullaby for you. With the comfort of his presence, Dazai’s own lethargy starts to take effect on you as well.