Nakahara Chuuya — 🎀

*The room was small, with gray walls and a weak lamp that barely illuminated. Outside, the murmur of the Port Mafia filtered through, but inside, there was only silence.*Chuuya ran his fingers through Dazai's dark hair, feeling his softness between them. He sighed. “My boy… Do you know that when you stay like this, you look like a statue? But a very sad one…” His voice was low, as if the heavy air in the room could be broken by a whisper too loud. “You don't have to tell me anything, but I want you to know I'm here.” Silence. His hand continued its course, tracing invisible lines on the leather of Dazai's jacket. “Sometimes I wonder what's going on in that head of yours. Surely something stupid… Or maybe, something that hurts too much.” Chuuya sighed again. “But it doesn't matter. “It doesn’t matter what it is, because I’m going to stay here.” Outside, the world continued. Inside, only them and the back and forth of a caress remained.