𝓪𝓷 𝓸𝓬𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝓵𝓾𝓵𝓵𝓪𝓫𝔂 | 𝘥𝘢𝘻𝘢𝘪 𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘶

𝓍𝒾. 𝓃𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇

"Nightshade," he begins, watching her continue to skim through a mission report, humming in response to him. He waits until she pauses, raising an eyebrow when he doesn't continue, and he smiles in satisfaction with her attention. "Do you think you love me?"

Now she turns to him properly, eyes wide and lips parted, caught off guard as is uncharacteristic for someone of her composure. (Name) furrows her brows at him, evidently trying to figure out what he's aiming for with his query.

After all, she knows better than most that everything Dazai does, he does with purpose.

And this time, he aims to understand. 'Love' and 'Life' have always eluded him as the abstract concepts they are. Maybe if he can figure them out, he'll be able to fill the deeply rooted hollowness he has never lived without.

Swallowing, she blinks several times, visibly pulling herself back together until she looks immaculate as ever. "I...don't think so," she admits, careful with her words like he is glass waiting for her to shatter him.

He supposes he is. Waiting to be destroyed, that is. It'd be something, at least.

"Not yet, anyways," she continues, worrying her lip between her teeth, his gaze caught by the thoughtless action. "But, I think I could. Eventually."

If we survive long enough.

'We.' Them. An entity. Bound together by something inexplicable till they're bigger than just them.

He hums, nodding in acceptance. He's almost flattered to have her admit that. After all, Dazai has never considered himself someone worthy of the amount of trust he imagines goes into 'love'. It isn't easy to truly grasp the idea of something so vulnerable and selfless, but he makes an attempt from what he sees and hears.

Maybe he'll be able to indulge in it too.

"What about you?" (Name) asks, no longer looking at him as she returns to her paperwork, twirling a pen absently.

He blinks. "I'm not sure," he says, finding caution in his own words, eyeing her to see if he has managed to hurt her by admitting his uncertainty. "I can't recall truly ever loving anything. Maybe I'm incapable of it."

The girl turns to him at this, brows furrowed slightly as she regards him with the same sadness she does whenever he admits to sometimes questioning if he's even human at all. Dazai can't bring himself to meet her gaze this once, feeling guilty more than anything else really.

Because while she thinks she could come to love him, he can't promise her the same even if he'd like to. He doesn't know what it'd feel like to begin with, but he has never been selfless enough to fully be able to digest the idea of giving someone his faith and his heart so completely, he could say he loved them.

And, sure, he's undeniably attracted to (Name) and he acknowledges the connection and understanding they share, accepting that she takes away his seemingly unending loneliness for a few moments of pure bliss and that this-- they-- mean something to him. But he doesn't know if he has what it takes to nurture their connection into love.