ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ || ꜱᴏᴜᴋᴏᴋᴜ

• 16 •

"Sing a song for me." Dazai said one night after Chuuya had tucked him into bed, a habitual action before bedtime. Chuuya gave him a weird look.

"I don't sing."

"I bet you have the voice of an angel!"

"How dare you." Chuuya rolled his eyes playfully. Dazai's face fell a little, and Chuuya went to leave the room. His left hand was tugged back, and Dazai was rubbing his eyes with his free hand sluggishly. "What's wrong?"

"I feel bad tonight." The simple statement had become quite common whenever Dazai fell into a low mood, or felt like he needed to release some feelings. Chuuya frowned, he never understood the term feeling bad because there was usually an underlying feelings than just bad. You don't feel bad if you've talked shit about someone, you feel guilty. You don't feel bad if you're sick, you feel unwell. You also don't feel bad when you reject a kiss from someone you love, it's called regret. Regardless of this, Chuuya was aware it was a broader term for feeling a negative emotion, and it was easier for Dazai to tell him this rather than pinpoint a specific emotion. He would much rather allow Dazai to feel bad than to feel like he needs to make another attempt on his life (he has grown increasingly worried since the night he told him that he has a weapon that causes fresh wounds to never heal).

"How can I help?" His voice softened, and Dazai said nothing. Instead he opened his arms wide, with a sad expression. It was clear he wanted to embrace, but was (as Chuuya had discovered) awfully sensitive to rejection.

"I want to be with you tonight, I know you don't sleep, so maybe you can use my phone to watch your favourite show?"

"I have my own phone you know."

"Your boyfriend is entrusting you with his phone, unlocked and with free roam to do whatever you want on it. Typically, this is something you don't refuse." Dazai tapped in his password and offered his phone to the ginger on the end of the bed. Chuuya eyed it carefully, before taking it and climbing into bed. Dazai buried himself under the duvet, wrapping his arms around Chuuya's waist and laying his head on his chest. Chuuya could feel his breathing become slower and shallow, and he could feel the cold hands slithering around his warm bare skin.

Before he could even start watching the latest episode of his favourite show, a message from Dazai's friend group popped up.

Fukuzawa's children
Ranpo is typing...

Chuuya didn't know who Fukuzawa was, but he must be a father figure to these gaggle of idiots. He pressed on the notification, feeling slightly guilty that he was interfering with Dazai's life.

Fukuzawa's children

Ranpo: guess who got a hot date with an emo rich white boy ᕙ('▿')ᕗ

Atsushi: poe finally asked you out?! :o

Ranpo: nuh uh, i put my big boy pants on and asked him myself

Atsushi: that's great!

Yosano: how's it going with akutagawa atsushi?

Atsushi: i don't know... he gives me mixed signals

Yosano: how so?

Atsushi: well he brought me home from the hospital in his mercedes, bought me flowers and a card and visited me everyday but now he's not talking to me!

Ranpo: oooooh a mercedes

Kunikida: Could it be due to Dazai and Chuuya's interference?