d. fyodor x reader x o.dazai | You had been destined to die from the beginning. Through you does she slip, like sunlight through a sieve, settling onto the ruins of future human relationships, thereby destroying any chance of existence. Dead before...
trigger warnings: mentions of animal death and suicide.
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"I WILL INVENT A LIFE FOR YOU."
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"DON'T TOUCH ME!"
Ironically, in a desperate panic, your hand flies out to slap his away—but in that split moment, the near imperceptible moment before the pain sparked across the back of your hand, did you realize your fatal mistake.
The noise claps like thunder throughout the street. Him, with his palm in mid-air, rapidly swelling and reddening like ripe fruit underneath the bandages; and you, with your hand outstretched, the knuckles beginning to tingle from the brutal impact.
Unexpectedly do your eyes well up with tears. Customers from both cafes on the street turn their gaze to the two frozen, in their eyes, lovers caught in the sticky web of a domestic dispute. Those who experienced troubling times with their own significant others sighed in understanding, while others had their lips pursed as though their coffees were far too bitter for their tastes, ordering more milk or sugar.
The hand that reached out for such additions was a gesture of agitation and annoyance.
His, however, was kind and understanding, once again coming back to hold you. A whimper rings in your throat, and here, your true self was becoming to seep through the mask: how you wished none of this had happened, but still, how happy and relieved you felt that moment in not seeing his chin turn red from the blood pouring down.
"My own ability," His hand squeezes your shoulder, the flesh there, fingers grazing the trembling bones almost intimately as though he knew you like the back of his hand, or he was doomed to remember how pliable you were under his rain-drenched fingers. "Negates those around me. I'm willing to admit that it was rather entertaining to watch you be so skittishly cautious."
You grit your teeth, unwilling to let your tears fall. "You're a horrible, horrible man."
"Perhaps," Dazai teases, the diminutive smile on his face not-at-all faltering at your wet glare. "But even calling me a man would be a compliment from you."
Your eyes linger on him. Flushed with annoyance, you shrug his touch away, walking in the direction of your motel before the darkest hours of night enclasped the skies. "Right then. You had your fun. Leave me alone."
As you walked back, and you nearly said home, you realized that it was not because of his sticky tendencies that made you detest Dazai; no, it was more complicated than that. It was more so because there was a difference in indulging and abstaining, right? Through indulging do you learn something, whether that be that destruction causes harm to others or something feels good or something feels bad. What do you learn through abstaining? You learn that human hunger in something is great—far greater than the value of metaphors but let us try anyways—and even that was an example of human hunger. We try and try and try, and that is what makes us human. Our hunger in bringing our dreams to life is extraordinary. It is dreamers that have paved the path for us, bringing us from caves to marble-furnished flats and houses.
