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The light in your bedroom was dim—curtains closed, not allowing any effulgent sunbeams to enter the room and deluge every corner with a lustrous golden sheen. Instead, you permitted only the light emanating from the many candles decorated around the place to take over the desired role of illumination.
The candlelight brought a natural hallowed glow to plain walls that so enjoyed the kiss of a mini inferno; it was an arc of brilliant gold in the blackness. Though it was a dangerous flame, you simply imagined walking through it as if it were nothing more than an archway to somewhere beautiful. You imagined shrinking down and stepping into the light, golden and warm, yet not hot. In that moment you were mesmerised, as still as you would be in a photograph.
To add to the peaceful atmosphere; the candles decorated around your bedroom brought a heavenly aroma to your nostrils, a soft airborne quilt for the senses. You breathed out a heavy sigh of sheer contentment as you closed your eyes and momentarily took in your surroundings. You immediately opened one eye as soon as you heard the cacophony of familiar footsteps slowly approaching your bed.
When you finally opened both eyes, you were blessed with the sight of Dazai; holding a fancy bottle of massaging oil in his hand. Apricot kernel oil. He couldn't believe that he was actually taking part in this.
"I can't believe that I'm actually doing this." He said, shaking his head from side to side in sheer disbelief. That was when both you and him realised that you truly did have this man wrapped right around your dainty little finger. You simply chuckled in response when you felt the bed dip ever so slightly as Dazai had taken his seat directly behind you on the bed; your bare back facing him. "When you said you wanted a reward for doing so well in our little shooting session, I did not think you meant this."
You smiled wryly to yourself. It was true. As a reward for managing to shoot down all six bottles one-by-one, you wanted Dazai to give you a nice, much-needed back massage. He was canonically skilled with his hands, and even though you were already aware of this fact when it came to other—more explicit things—you were not going to allow his expertise to go to waste, hence why, the two of you were currently here; with you sitting on your bed surrounded by a fort of pillows, stuffed animals, and Dazai sitting directly behind you, getting ready to give you the time of your life.
You even created a nice, makeshift sanctuary to relax your mind and body. In the background the melodious sound of light classical music was being played to elevate the spirit. Dazai was opposed to the idea of having zen classical music playing in the background at first, but you managed to convince him otherwise. Besides, it wasn't up to him. To you—classical music was the deepest stirrings of the soul, the speaking of the parts of the brain that predated language and taught you in ways that words could not.
