Jabberwocky ↠ Dazai Osamu

5 | White Rabbit

Her lips resembled the color of rose quartz flashing without the use of sunlight peeking through. They were colliding and adding friction together like tectonic plates urging to erupt sizzling lava. The bewildered words she wouldn't dare say swarmed her mind and buzzed throughout her body. How could a complete stranger still remember her from an encounter that occurred almost three years ago? It seemed too good to be true.

It seemed too surreal when he uttered, "The one and only Dazai Osamu would like to take you out on a date."

[Name] had to admit his name took a moment for her to recall. His existence left an imprint in her life that dwindled as the years passed. They were simply two strangers craving for the touch that comforted them from the harsh reality of death. Happiness wasn't something she could confirm she was feeling and neither was anger. She was more so confused. Just what made him come back to her? She didn't doubt he had some kind of purpose, but she would sometimes doubt her judgement of character.

At first, she couldn't help but narrow her concrete stare at him. She almost lost the feeling of her feet despite the warm material of her shoes. The way his eyes were directed to every feature of her face felt like she was getting reeled through the looking glass. Those mesmeric pair studied her lashes sweeping over her matured skin every time she blinked, her moisturized lips combating the frost, and those [e/c] mirroring his coaxed him to desire drowning in them.

No one really knew the true nature of this man unless they disrupted the boundary he drew himself. The beautiful color of his dark eyes gave her the sensation of vertigo, but it wasn't at all a horrible feeling. She wasn't awfully concerned with his presence as strange as it may seem. The two perceived the idea that they were drawn together despite barely knowing each other.

She could only nod her head in agreement, making his smile pleasantly widen. Her previous hesitation melted from the way he smiled. Her feet guided her to his side, but she was still skeptical enough to keep her distance. The walk, needless to say, was quite awkward for her. The two didn't engage into any kind of conversation, but she very much wanted to. She wanted to ask where he wanted to take her or why he even decided to show up, but her mouth remained sealed.

She watched him from the corner of her eye as the crunching sound of snow disturbed the pregnant silence. Dazai had the urge to humorously comment how she should pay attention to her surroundings instead of staring at a handsome man such as himself. He restrained himself from teasing her so that she wouldn't leave his side. He was definitely a man full of many words, but he didn't wish to take that risk this one time.

Due to her constant flow of random thoughts, the walk seemed much shorter when the two stood outside one of Yokohama's exquisite art galleries. She wasn't one to really partake in such activities as much as she would like to, but the capacious environment eased the buzzing sensation swarming throughout her stiff body. She truly wanted to explore around the building as did the other guests studying the artistic display of emotions hung on the pearlescent walls.

However, even within such a public area, she was still hesitant to even breathe next to him. She wanted to compose her erratic heartbeat by allowing herself to sit down on one of the many benches in the gallery. As expected, Dazai took a seat beside her and watched her take off her heavy coat in order to relax. All she could do was look at the painting in front of her with her lips tightly sealed. She couldn't bear the attention she was receiving from him. But he just couldn't take his eyes off her.

The clacking of footwear against the marble tiles didn't sway the woman's attention from the beautifully chaotic portrait in front of her. Splashes of silver light emitted from the chandelier, presenting her the ability to decipher the dark colors colliding in a murky manner. Every stroke, every burst of violet and vermillion clashed together as if it were a battle enticing the viewers interests. She applauded how a person could design such artful turmoil.