⸻

The marriage was nothing but a strategic move, a way to keep the factions at peace. And while Dazai had played his part flawlessly in front of everyone—smiling, holding your hand, speaking in soft tones—when it was just the two of you, his mask slipped entirely. The moment you stepped into your shared quarters, he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his eyes scanning you like you were an annoying inconvenience.

“Fantastic,” he sighed, voice full of disdain. “Another day of pretending we’re the perfect couple. How long before you break, I wonder? Should we make bets?”

You ignored him, but Dazai was already following, brushing past you too closely. He didn’t shout or insult you outright—he didn’t need to. His contempt was clear in the way he moved around, knocking things off shelves, slamming doors, and scattering your belongings with the faintest smirk.

“Oops,” he muttered as your books hit the floor. “So careless, aren’t you?”

Every day, he found new ways to get under your skin. He’d switch the heater after you’d just set it, leave doors open on purpose, or steal your favorite spot with a smug look. “Oh, were you sitting here? My bad.”

In public, Dazai was all charm and grace, but as soon as you were alone, his voice would drop to a cold whisper. “This would be easier if you weren’t so… you. But I guess I’ll just have to live with it.” He made it his mission to test your patience at every turn, as if waiting for the moment you’d finally snap.