𝚃𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝙷𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗 (Dazai x Reader)

(4)

Strapped on a bed, my hands were cuffed above my head, legs straightened out and tied with rope to the bed bar. It rubbed against my skin, digging into my wrists and ankles and leaving putrid red and purple bruises. Every movement would deliver stinging sensations down my arm and leave burns around the sides of my wrist.

I wasn't afraid.

Unmoving, I lay, staring up at the white coated ceiling and focusing on the debris that stuck out, threatening to fall on me. Wooden rotting plank boards prodded out from the white paint, only nails and screws holding it together.

The footsteps that entered the room didn't bother me, neither did the voice that spoke. It all felt so far away, separating myself from the reality and letting my mentality delve in the feeling of nothingness. Yells and screams, I paid no mind to what came out of the people voices. I blocked out the pain, ignored the way my torso throbbed and ached, welcomed the lack of breath into my lungs.

Please don't make it stop.

Day and night, chained to the bed, staring at the ceiling. Day and night they'd come, blow after blow they'd deliver, but the yelling and screaming never reached my ears.

One day, they stopped coming, the blood crusted over my torso and the scars of lines and words inprinted and forever remained. I lay chained to that bed, the ropes rotting, and bed sheets dirtied and ragged. However I never left, staying there day and night, hoping they'd come to deliver each blow like they had before.

They never came back.

Laying on that bed, I stared at the ceiling, plain expression and neutral eyes. Not even their yells and screams could reach me, and my pitiful form lay forever on the sullen bed. Ripped and tattered, broken and sullied. I let the echo of their yells ring back in my ears, imagining the lashes and blood dripping from my torso.

I'm human.

The ache of every movement spoke those words, my mind blank and light with every thrash.

~~~

He wasn't so bad.

Snow brushed up against my boots as I stared down, hands quivering slightly despite the oversized jacket thrown on top of my form. Walking beside me was the brown haired male, the sleeves of his coat brushing against my arm. It wasn't uncomfortable despite the silence, the lack of noise, our form of communication itself.

Why do you want to die so much?

My eyes gazed over to the taller brunette, watching the sad tilt of his lips, cheeks and nose flushed with the cold. Sleeves and neck wrapped up in bandages, I gazed at my own, flexing my wrist to the side to watch the elbow joint prod out.

Following my movement, I could see his eyes stay fixed on it, and the sudden thought to grab his hand occurred to me. What would the bandages feel like against my skin? Would they scratch the dry blisters of my calloused palms, or would they feel like cotton fabric thawing out my frozen fingers?

Dazai...

His name ringed in my head, and I noticed just how I had started to stare at his hand. His eyes reached mine, trailing over to watch me observe the bandages that slightly prodded out of his jacket. Stretching out his fingers as if that had been the centre of my attention, his own gaze flicked to my hand.

He didn't need to ask me to know I wanted it to, and reaching, he tangled up his fingers in mine. The smile on his face disappeared, and I watched as his eyes grew darker, his brown orbs centred on the way my hand tightened against his. Desperation, the unneeded pressure of my hand told him as much.

He held my hand just as tightly.

Walking down the snowy street, hands interlocked, faces filled with anguish. My hair brushed against his shoulder, his shoulder bumping against mine, physical contact as the two of us stayed silent. People bustled by, cars screeched and skidded, the wind blowing past us in a whistle. Yet it was worlds away, each step led us farther and farther, the snow melting against our flushed filled skin only a numbing sensation in the background.

We were in our own little world.