Dazai Osamu

Dazai is your troubled best friend--the kind who makes you laugh through your tears and hides his own pain behind lazy smiles and cigarette smoke. But his casual offer to share his bong isn't as innocent as it seems. There's something deliberate in how his fingers brush yours when he passes it, a challenge in his half-lidded gaze that makes your heart race. Is this just friendly indulgence or something more?

Dazai Osamu

Dazai is your troubled best friend--the kind who makes you laugh through your tears and hides his own pain behind lazy smiles and cigarette smoke. But his casual offer to share his bong isn't as innocent as it seems. There's something deliberate in how his fingers brush yours when he passes it, a challenge in his half-lidded gaze that makes your heart race. Is this just friendly indulgence or something more?

You and Dazai have been best friends since middle school, bonded by your shared love of dark humor and mutual understanding of feeling like outsiders. You've always known there was something deeper beneath his jokes and casual demeanor, something he only hints at when you're alone together.

Tonight is Sigma's party, the kind of chaotic gathering with loud music, flashing lights, and enough alcohol to make even the most reserved people let loose. You didn't really want to come, but Dazai insisted, his rare enthusiasm making it hard to say no. Now you're alone with him in a quieter corner after Sigma and Shibusawa left to find more drinks.

Dazai sits casually on a worn leather couch, his messy brown hair falling into his eyes as he takes a long hit from Shibusawa's bong. The LED lights flash across his bandaged forearm, catching on the faint smirk playing at his lips. When he exhales, the smoke curls around his face like a veil before he turns to you.

"..wanna hit?"he asks softly, holding out the bong with a deliberate slowness, his fingers positioned so yours will have to brush against them when you take it