After Dazai had left the Port Mafia, you were a "replacement" for him. Filling the position as Mori's favorite, as well as Chuuya's partner. You and Dazai come into contact accidentally. You couldn't stand the man, however you also felt something fo...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
"Why do we have to come to this stupid thing?" You whispered to Chuuya as the group of mafiosos and ADA members walked into the ball room. "I should've said I had the flu."
"Mori would still make you come even if you had the bubonic plague." He whispered back, loosening his tie just a nudge. "Plus, there's no way I would allow you to leave me stuck with these shitheads alone."
He signaled to the Armed Detective Agency members. You understood where he was coming from—especially with Dazai. After the whole dinner situation, everyone was completely silent except for the awkward few words exchanged. To say the least, your evening was going great.
The atmosphere in the room was dark, many of the mafia took a chance to stare at the group that walked through the heavy doors. Whispers echoed across the room, gossiping like teenagers at a rave. Mori stepped to the side to allow viewing of the Armed Detective Agency, as if they were on display.
"Play with our guests nicely everyone. I expect to hear good things." Mori smiled generously, and side-eyed you. "This 'party' is a way to get to know our comrades better so we can work together successfully."
"Yeah, totally." Dazai loudly whispered, giving you a fright. You slightly jumped at his presence being now known to you. You could feel him breathing down your neck. You imagined him leaned over slightly because of the height difference. Mori continued speaking while Dazai distracted you with his hot breath. "I never got the chance to say, but you look lovely this evening. What fabric is this? Silk?"
"It'll be your skin if you keep talking."
"Yikes! Feisty much? I like it."
You scoffed, slightly offended that he would think you would forgive him so easily, just because of his wicked smile and his perfect porcelain face. And those coffee abstracted eyes, they looked straight out of an oil painting—perfect.
"...thank the Armed Detective Agency for showing up tonight." Mori finished his rant, ending with all Port Mafia members clapping and whooping for the ADA. Seconds after, the upbeat pianist started playing, lifting the mood just a tad.
The group at the door dispersed into different areas in the ball room. Mori, Kouyou, and Fukuzawa went to the front of the room, looking to have a rather active chat about 'business'.
You noticed the ADA members separated into pairs before wandering, most likely in case of an emergency. Meanwhile, the mafiosos walked away from each other with no problem, ready to breath freely.
You walked off alone, leaving Dazai and Chuuya to be left alone, which was probably a horrible idea. You sat at one of the round clothed tables on one side of the room next to the bar. You glanced at the scene before you, some couples dancing, others talking, many drinking, you had never seen your coworkers in such a uplifted and lively scene before.
You covered your mouth as you yawned quietly, ceasing to bring attention to yourself. A waiter passed by, offering you a drink from his serving platter, which you gladly accepted. It was a red wine, which almost tasted like strawberries—the cool liquid travelled down your throat, bringing you to a relaxation.
Dazai and Chuuya sat at another table alone (Dazai forced Chuuya to let him sit there). They both sulked in silence watching everyone idly, until the brunette spoke. He had noticed Chuuya staring at something, or rather, someone—you. This had been going on the whole time they were sat, Dazai found it amusing to see the cold-hearted Chuuya this way. He was fascinated by that fact, he almost wanted to find out himself what made you so special.
"Why not ask her to dance?" Dazai suggested, bringing Chuuya out of his daze.
"Are you joking?" Chuuya raised a brow, quick to defend himself. He looked you up and down while gesturing towards you. "You think I'm into that?"
Dazai stayed silent before sighing. He put his hands on his knees to boost himself up from his seat. Chuuya only looked confused at his actions, questioning if he should be concerned or not—but in this case, he should be.
"Fine. If you won't ask, I will."
"Dazai, don't—" Before Chuuya could finish his sentence, the bubbly brunette was already walking in your direction. The man left alone at the table angrily drank his glass of wine, slamming it down on the table hard.
You looked at the cause of the loud noise, only for your view to be blocked by a tall build. Your eyes followed the body until you made eye-contact with the owner—that being Dazai. Beholding a smirk on his face, the sleepy-eyed man held out his hand toward you.
You looked confused, eyeing the hand suspiciously. He spoke, "Please, allow me to make up this night by offering you a dance."
"A dance?" You leaned away slightly, showing your disinterest in the man's offer. You looked to your left, catching Mori's stare at you and his former mafioso. "I'd rather not."
"I'll buy you a drink." Now that, that had convinced you. He kissed your knuckles as he pulled you away from the lonely table. Dazai laughed, "Alcoholic."
"Imbecile. Or what is it that the blonde would call you? Suicidal maniac? Rather suiting given your tendencies."
Chuuya watched in agony as Dazai swept you away from the table. He drank angrily, just hoping Dazai would trip over his own feet and fall face first. Nonetheless, Dazai was smooth on the dance floor.
The music began to slow down, becoming a somber atmosphere. The slower the music, the closer Dazai brought himself to you. You were skin on skin—his hand travelled up and down from your hips to back. Your smooth skin ran beneath his rough fingertips, almost sending chills down your spine.
"So why are you really here, Dazai?" You said, your words were barely audible over the classical music being played. "I know you didn't just come back for a party."
His grip tightened on you as he leaned down to your level, his lips placed next your ear. He let out a breathy chuckle, sending chills down your spine, "For you."
"You're funny." He spun you around according to the music. Your body pulled itself back to him, as if there was a magnetic force holding you two together, making you almost inseparable. You looked him in his eyes, "Not a chance."
