Teenage Rebellion

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The warmth of the sheets welcomed your senses as soon as consciousness gave life to them

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The warmth of the sheets welcomed your senses as soon as consciousness gave life to them.  You shifted slightly, stretching limps stiff with the long slumber. Huddled up in on yourself with the borrowed jacket held tightly against you, a soft sigh left your lips as you insisted on keeping your eyes shut. 

Seeking sleep, you turned over to the other side to relish in every comfort your bed could offer; but when your weight fell on the injured shoulder, you groaned meekly and lay on your back.

Among the rustle of the sheets, came along a questionable noise, however— the turn of a page.

Your eyes snapped open to glimpse at the silhouette of a figure, positioned right beside you and to whom you instantly turned to.

Brown waves of hair came into focus as the figure lay there a hand supporting his head, the other flipping mindlessly through a book while his leg tented over the other, tapping.

"Truly disappointed," he whined as he flipped faster through the book, "I thought this, for sure, would be your diary."

Still misguided by the haze of sleep, you couldn't comprehend the existence of the suicidal man on your bed. 

Next to you.

Thus you stared with slightly parted lips for what seemed like an eternity before Dazai Osamu's auburn eyes blinked to your perplexed features. He shut the book and babied, "aww~ did I wake the pwincess?"

You instantly sat up, hair sprawled over your stunned eyes and hands dug in the mattress for support.

Dazai's eyes twinkled as his lower lip slowly rolled out from his teeth's grip and into a blissful smirk as he sighed his compliment, "what a sight~"

"Huh?" the previous hibernation softened your frown, making you the epitome sight of attraction to the hopeless man until reason hit you like a truck.

You instantly smoothed out your hair and pulled down the skirt that had wrinkled up to your thighs.

"Oh, please. Not on my account~!" the brunet excused your act of modesty as he sat up in a flashy manner, as if anything he did wasn't, and crossed his legs while facing you.

Face heated, your hurried words dropped on the bane of your overworked heart like a bucket of ice, "what are you doing here?"

Dazai hissed, wincing as he gripped his heart and uttered, "ah, the chill of it all."

With pressed lips and folded arms, you received the first act of today's melodramatic play, "well?"

"I was only worried about my darling angel," he hugged his wounded self while wiggling around from the chill you gave him. "You didn't answer the door the last two times I visited," Dazai started looking like an abandoned puppy, "so, like the gentleman I am, I took the privilege of breaking and entering~!"

You nodded with a sarcastic air at the irony of the word: 'gentleman' coming from Dazai Osamu.

Clearly, you were not having it.

An ache was slowly taking residence in the crevices of your head ever since your eyes opened to the man's presence. Even though Dazai was missed, his antics were not. 

Not at this moment, at least.   

"Turns out you were smoking and fell in a coma," Dazai relayed judgmentally. 

As the roles made a speedy change from judge to victim, you questioned not trusting yourself with that statement, "I... I wasn't smoking?"

"You definitely smell like it," the judge retaliated with a disapproving look and a shake of his head.

You subtly dragged the hem of the turtleneck to your nose for a small, quick sniff and, instantly, the strong scent of cigarettes heightened your headache. 

Did Nakahara smoke? Perhaps used to? Or smokes on occasion now?

"I understand... It happened to me when I was five, but I guess you're a late bloomer, huh?" Dazai's sympathising tone distracted your assumptions of the ginger's current health habits as you looked up at him with a frown. 

"What?"

The suicidal fan pointed a finger gun at you as he deadpanned with the very flare he does when messing with Kunikida: "teenage rebellion." 

Eyebrows twitching with barely maintained agitation, you threw a pillow at his serious face. "I can't believe you made me talk without brushing my teeth! And about what? Your teenage rebellion at 5?!" you went off as the pillow slowly dropped to the grip of Dazai's hands, covering his lower face from your wrath. 

"I mean you didn't have bad breath?" the brunet mumbled his eyes twinkling behind the pillow.

A muffled whimper of agony sounded from you before you decided to ignore the man and slide off the bed. You stalked to your drawers snatching everything you needed for a long, steamy shower while Dazai whined about his abuse in his professional and love life.

Not sparing the dramatic act of your life another glance, you made a beeline to the bathroom, shutting the door loudly, abruptly shutting him off.

A/N: This chapter sang 'senpai suck my ass' and I'm living for it 

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