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( 021. PRETTY LITTLE POSTCARD )
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✧・゚:┊IT HAD BEEN SEVEN MONTHS EVER SINCE THEY HAD LAST MET.
And by god, he missed her. But he concealed it away from the outside world, others clueless about the constant ache in his bones.
"Stop sounding like a broken trumpet so early in the morning," grumbled Kunikida, his comment reaching deaf ears as Dazai checked his morning mail, making weird noises when some boring topic popped up in one of them.
He stopped short, his eyes landing on a colorful, pretty little postcard, the picture of the recent Chelsea Flower Show hosted in London painting the front.
He furrowed his eyebrows reaching out for it and flipping it over to read who it was from, thumbing the corner. It was written in neat, curly handwriting, and it read:
Dear Dazai,
I think London at this time of year is beautiful. It would be nicer if you were here too.
Heh, I can't believe it took me seven months to pick up the courage to ask you this.
Love,
Maya.His eyes widened. And here he was thinking she had forgotten him.
"What is it?" questioned Kunikida, irritated.
"Kunikida-kun," he said, his voice trembling with excitement, "I'm going to London,"
"EH?!"
・゚: ゚・: :・゚:・゚
She was right, London sure was beautiful at this time of year.
It was a bit hard finding the address on the postcard, though, and he avoided asking for directions until it was neccesary because speaking English was tedious work for him.
Hesitantly, he pressed the fourth bell of an aprtment of the day, hoping that it wasn't the wrong person. He had been shooed away violently enough times.
The bright red door opened.
Her jaw hung, the left ear bud that was in her hand falling out of her grasp and dangling far from its other.
"H-hi." (I love you.)
He smiled broadly, "Hello." (I love you, too.)
And maybe, just for some time, for a few hours, they were allowed to be happy. To be in love. To love, to kiss and to hold each other. And maybe things will be okay then.
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𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐀, d.osamu | ✓
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