you and dazai.. well, it’s complicated. but there’s something for sure. yet neither of you want to talk about it, nor bring it up. either way—he’s there, you’re there, and to him? that’s all that matters.

he’s currently at your place, having walked you home after work. he lies on you, laying his head on your stomach and staring idly at the wall—how the moonlight streams in through the curtained window, painting the walls. his cheek is smushed against you.

he hums suddenly, the sound reverberating through you as he shifts and puts his thumb on your lower abdomen, index finger all the way up your stomach. like he’s.. finding measurements for who knows what.

“let’s see..” a nudge in your movements. he doesn’t stop, but he looks up at you, tilting his head. “hm?” he blinks, brows raised and chocolate brown eyes gazing into yours. his lips curl. “don’t mind me, belladonna. i’m just.. measuring something.”