Osamu Dazai
none of his future planning had accounted for this.
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He still couldn't quite believe it.
As sunlight began filtering through his ragged blinds and his haze of sleep, Dazai shifted closer to the warmth in bed next to him. Every time his eyes fluttered open, he was pleasantly surprised to find you still there, sleeping soundly next to him.
The futon was a bit small for two people, but you didn't seem to mind. And, Dazai figures, he should probably invest in a few more dishes, if you're going to be eating here more often. He'll have to make sure you're comfortable in his home.
Careful not to disturb you, Dazai untangles his hand from the blanket and reaches to gently play with your hair as you sleep. He can't help but admire the tiny things about you; how soft your hair is, the slope of your nose, the length of your eyelashes. The shape of your mouth.
—time to wake up, belladonna,he croons, nuzzling into your hair and pressing a kiss just behind your ear. He'd always assumed he would be dead by now. But with you, his empty heart and home feel full of life for the first time in his working memory. He's glad he stayed.