parasite [YANDERE!O.DAZAI/READER]

THIRTEEN: THE SAKE.

You raise an eyebrow at the words that had just come out of Dazai's mouth, before closing your eyes and imagining the writing on paper that politely asked to join you: You could imagine it, the neat, swirling thin black calligraphy scrawling across the paper like tiny ants, following a honeyed trail of your bloodlust.

"Interesting," Is all you say. You cup your cup with both hands before taking a soft sip, before putting it down. Dazai watches all this with an inquisitive gaze, as though entranced by your elegance. "Well, I'm not interested."

Dazai lets out a miniscule sigh of relief. "For a second I thought you would pair up with the madman."

"Do you think so little of me?" You say. "I work alone. I'm not interested in working with sheep for a cheap thrill on their part."

He leans closer, pushing his cup aside. "Am I sheep?"

You don't lean back, but stay completely still, allowing him to graze his lips over yours. You smile. "You're my lamb."

"How special I am." He chuckles, before lightly pressing his lips against yours. A tiny kiss, a light pressure on your lips that feels like it's been stamped by a white-hot iron. Your lips are cold, and his warmth frightens you because it feels like a foreign entity, but you know it's not and it's Dazai, the peculiar man who you've decided to spare because of your own sentimentality. He pulls back and looks content with what he's just done. You raise your clawed fingers and gently run them over your lips, feeling the warmth dissipate like a dead fire.

"So what's going to be your next move?" He asks, and you look up to the sky, falling back on your chair and letting out a heavy sigh. The skies are blue and never ending, wisps of white clouds spread across the blueness like whipped cream.

"Wait for the next letter, I suppose," You say. "And then we'll see from there."

The two of you sit and enjoy your drinks, before the waitress comes back and takes the empty cups away. You rest your forearms on the armrests of the chair and close your eyes.

Dazai on the other hand, was transfixed on your lips. He wanted to feel the coldness of your lips again, the pulse that faintly ebbed with pressure, on him. He was paralysed by a desire to find more ice from you, even if it wasn't actively reciprocated and you had merely been passive while he had stolen a kiss from you. You were so brilliantly beautiful that it made goosebumps raze across his skin, his skin that was covered by layers of bandages that you weren't too bothered to know about, unlike the women that he had once been with. You see, they had gotten nosy. In the name of love and getting to know and understand the real and total name of him, Dazai Osamu, they wanted to explore his deeper depths, figuratively speaking. They wanted his lid off. If they pried too hard–if they unwrapped one after another of his bandages–they would be met with total darkness and a cold, cold heart that beat for no one.

No one but you, now.

"You're staring," You say, your eyes still closed. Dazai blinks.

"How could you tell?"

"Not all eyes are physical," You say.

"How very wise of you."

"Mhm," You hum, before standing up. "Well, I suppose there's not much else to do but wait. I'd prefer to wait somewhere more private, instead of out in the open."

"Wait," He says, reaching out for you just as you opened your umbrella. You turn around. "Come with me."

"Where to?" You ask suspiciously, but follow him regardless as he steps away from the cafe.

"My dorm," He turns his head over his shoulder and smiles a sweet boyish smile. And that smile is enough to convince you.

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