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A/N - you can press play on the song above and let it run throughout this chapter if you want to! :')
"I have watched a movie about this." Dazai told you, as the two of you had casually strolled into IKEA together, hand-in-hand. It was a weird feeling being out in public and intertwining your fingers with his very own, it almost felt like the two of you were an actual couple. You didn't hate it, though. In fact, you quite enjoyed it—and Dazai seemed to like it too, parading you around like a trophy, marking his territory whenever men began shamelessly ogling at you. You enjoyed his possessiveness—it made you feel strangely exhilarated, and Dazai felt the exact same way. It was thrilling and exhilarating to know that despite so many men wanting you, you only had your eye for him, and him only.
"You have?" You asked, intrigued. You strolled over to where the rows of shopping carts were. You placed a coin into the slot and took one out, ready to push around the giant trolley.
"Mhm." Dazai responded, nodding his head eagerly in response. "Have you ever watched the movie 500 Days of Summer?"
"I haven't." You said, and Dazai immediately took control of the shopping cart as he started to weave his way through the large masses of people crowding the place—mindlessly strolling around, following the invisible wind guiding him. "What's it about?"
"In the movie, IKEA is the most romantic place on earth." Dazai spoke airily. "Joseph Gordon-Levitt and the girl start out in one kitchen and she's sweet to him and pretending to feed him dinner and when the faucet doesn't work—the joke being that all the appliances are props—Joseph jumps out of his chair and walks through a doorway into another kitchen and she is in awe of him and he says, 'that's why we bought a home with two kitchens.'"
"It's definitely not the most romantic place on earth, I can tell you that." You countered. There was a million people crowding this gargantuan converted warehouse. It was a dystopian nightmare come true where all furniture was cut from the same hunk of cheap-ass wood, where all rooms were furnished with items that came out of the exact same factory at the exact same time, slapped with a ridiculous price. Ah, capitalism. There was a strong scent of Febreeze lingering in the atmosphere, entering your nostrils, mixed with many other questionable aromas.
"Well, we can make it romantic." Dazai stated in a matter-of-factly tone.
"How—"
You squealed as Dazai suddenly spun you around so that you were currently facing him, before wrapping his slender, bandaged arms around your waist—picking you up as if you were as light as a feather, and placing you inside the trolley in a sitting position. He leaned forward and pecked your forehead, and then your nose, and then your lips. You kissed him back, of course.
