A Melody We Were Never Supposed To Hear

Another Love

Tom Odell

Some lyrics have been changed 

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Dazai POV

When I opened my eyes, I didn't automatically know where I was, but I knew that I felt warm. That for whatever reason, I felt safe. And I hadn't truly felt safe in years. I sent a furtive glance around the room that I was in, taking in any information that I could before sitting up and making it know to the body moving around in the adjoining room on the other side of the couch that I was awake. It didn't take me long at all to know where I was, even though the place had changed some since the last time that I had been here, I still recognized the art of the walls and the books lining the shelves. I still remembered everything that was left.

Sitting up, a blanket that I hadn't even realized was there in the first place fell off of my shoulders and pooled on my lap, the soft texture brushing against the bare skin on my hands and drawing attention to the missing coat, though one quick glance at the coat hanger by the door settled that mystery easily enough. 

"I would've thought that you would have freaked out by now," a familiar voice says, the words almost drowned out by the smell that accompanied them as the owner of the voice walked up behind the couch and passed me one of the cups of coffee in their hands. "You always tend to do that when you wake up somewhere that you don't recognize."

I took the mug gratefully between my hands, hoping that it would burn away some of the lasting chill in my bones. "I had no reason to," I told the older man simply. "After all, this was once my home too."

I waited for Chuuya to get angry at my words or at the very least try to take back the mug that he had given me, but he doesn't and for some reason that hurts more than it would have if he just had. Chuuya and I, we didn't do this. We don't walk around on eggshells around one another as if the wrong word would break the other. We were loud and abrasive and said what was on our mind when we wanted the other to know it. But I wasn't really in the place to argue any of this. After all, I was the one to leave.

"Just stay out of the kitchen," the older man ordered while walking away, "I actually like it the way that it is and don't want you burning it down... again."

A small smirk curved on my lips as I immediately sprung to my feet and did the exact opposite of what the other ability user told me to, coming up on his side and following the shorter male in. "I will have you know that I am a great cook, Chibi," I insisted in a playful tone that neither of us believed but both let it stay because it was easier than the alternative silence. 

"Huh?! Since when, you bandage wasting machine?" The man asked. He had his arms crossed angrily over his chest while looking up at me with a defiant gaze that seemed to be begging me to try and prove the other man wrong just so I would fail and he would be right.

I shrugged and pushed ahead of the man, going to the fridge and cupboards so that I could see exactly what he had that I could work with. When we were younger, I never did learn to cook for myself. Back then I typically just ate canned foods and things that didn't perish easily. You couldn't exactly make a full meal in a shipping container. After moving in with the slug, he let me try cooking only about once or twice. After those two disastrous attempts, the most that I was allowed to do was warm bread in the oven.

"I learned after leaving," I told the executive in lieu of a proper explanation. When I turned around to look at the small ginger, I could tell that he was still doubtful and disbelieving of my abilities. A healthy dose of skepticism would be the best explanation I suppose. "Just give it a try, won't you."

The other adult grumbled something under his breath that sounded vaguely like an interrupted string of curses, but I could see the tiredness dulling the blue of his eyes. I knew it as well as I knew the bags under my own eyes. "Fine," the slug decided at last. "But if I so much as smell something burning, I am dumping water on it and then on you and throwing you out," he declared before abandoning me and going into the living room. I knew that he was just saying that, but I would be lying if I said that I wasn't planning on taking extra care in the kitchen.