You Weren't Supposed To See Me Like This

He Was Too Attached

There was the plush sofa, soft pillows. Maybe Egg can do something? No, she wouldn't even if Dazai begged which he wouldn't do, he won't drop his pride as low as begging an animal to end his suffering.

The shelf, the table, oh my god, when will he find something worth his attention? Feather brains' cage, the books, wait, the books? Papercuts? No.

Dazai's chest felt tight, the ribs squeezing his lungs, heart bleeding with panic.

He was too desperate, too much, too fast.

Quickly, he stood up from crouching down by the cupboard so long, God he was dizzy. He's scared, why did he feel like this?

Osamu's elbows smashed on the desk. His head plunged into sweaty and cold palms. Why, why, why! Scrawny finger tense, thighs shaking from all this pressure. He dug his nails into his forehead and cheek, it felt great but not satisfactory. Dazai needs to draw blood, Shuji needs to feel better.

Shuji needed that fascinating scene where crimson would seep our of his arms.

But there's nothing!

Screaming silently, eyes starting to water, wavering whimpers vibrated through his throat. He stumbled to the book shelf, hands running across the ribs of books, searching for a cover that's hard enough.

Dazai's pupils were dilated with all that unrequited desire.

Found it!

Grabbing that particular hard cover novel, the history of magic, good text although it could be better.

He scrambled to get it off the floor as it fell down to the ground. Knees hit against the hard wood surface, leaning on all fours. Standing up, he gulped the warm liquid down his throat.

Osamu tripped down to the desk, grasping on it like it's life support. He bent over the table. Book in right hand and his left fore arm up.

Too much, too fast.

The edge of the cover banged into his arm, and again, and again, harder and harder each time.

He didn't have time to take off the bandages, they only acted like a cushion, protecting his fore arms from excessive damage.

Shit.

The brunettes legs were weak, eyes more wet with each weakening hit. Too tired. He needed more but he didn't have that energy.

Distraught and quiet sobs escaped his mouth.

-

Blaise has just finished his meal, exchanging a glance with Draco, he stood up, his knee squeaked slightly at the sudden pressure.

Classes started in 30 minutes, potions with professor Snape. He needed to fetch Dazai before lessons start.

As he reached the Great Hall door, Fred and George caught up from behind him.

"Where did Snakey go?" Fred suddenly asked, "Yeah, he looked worried."

"Dazai went to the gang room, I'm not sure what happened." Blaise stumbled trying to pick out the correct words, "He stuttered when he talked but he was also really quiet... weird."

"Then let's go get snakey! You wouldn't want to be late to professor Snape's class, or you'll have detention." The gingers answered at the same time.

"Hermione and lil' Ronald will come up at lunch."

The twins stomped through the hall door with Blaise walking beside them. "Though, we should hurry up, I've never seen Dazai so... so unDazai like. I'm worried."