The lonely, hollow apartment was silent, still asleep in the early hours of the morning. But Dazai wasn't.
"Chuuya," he said softly. "I just the worst dream ever. You were in it,"
"Oh really?"
"Yeah, we were laying in the cherry blossom grove again and you were leaning your head against my shoulder," the brunette murmured, staring at the ceiling somberly.
"That doesn't sound bad at all,"
Dazai ran a hand up his face, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "Yeah, the dream itself wasn't that bad. The worst part of it was that I knew I'd wake up and you'd be gone again." Dazai looked over at the cold, empty space his lover used to occupy, his heart aching for Chuuya again.
