quicksand (Dazai X Reader)

dada

I woke up two hours later. The room was still dark, only the light of the pale moon gave me a hint where to step without falling or tripping. Chuuya was still laying beside me, a reaching hand clutching into the back of the shirt he had lent me. Even in his sleep he was clinging to me, despite being the one that had pushed me away for the best of us. 

Slowly, I started to move towards the edge of the bed, in an attempt to break free from Chuuya's clutch without waking the little lion man sleeping next to me. I wished I could say he was sleeping peacefully but the frown on his face made it clear he was not feeling too well about everything. 

After a few pulls and tugs, I was free. Only that it didn't make me feel lighter at all, I felt as heavy as a rock sinking into the ocean.

We are the choices that we make, or so my father used to tell me, and right now I don't know who I am becoming. Doubt has accompanied me my entire life. That's what happens when you grow up overprotected from the outside, you become insecure and hesitant. Also, being sheltered from the rest of the world only made the dangers of my mind grow stronger. 

I seek damaged people because they make me feel better about myself, and that was the truth. 

I am not a good person. 

That's why I am going to leave this apartment. 

Taking soft steps in an attempt to stop the wooden floor from creaking, I made my way out of the room. All the lights were off inside the big and elegant apartment. The walls were painted dark and dripping of perfection, the kind that comes from violence. I ran my fingers on the walls trying to find a reason to stay or to leave, just any explanation would do, but like always, I am left empty handed. 

I kept thinking of ways to say goodbye, after everything that had happened today and even the things that have happened before, to just go out of the door without leaving something behind seemed almost insulting. But there was nothing I could leave for Chuuya that would make things better, knowing that the only thing he wants is the one thing I cannot give him without being untrue to him and to me. 

Standing in the middle of the big kitchen, with the darkness surrounding me and the heaviness on my feet keeping me down, dragging me under. I move one foot in front of the other, forcing me to walk towards the lightswitch to brighten the atmosphere in an artificial way, because I have given up on the light of day, it burns my eyes as if it knows I am undeserving of it. 

I walk around opening the cabinets and exploring the contents in the fridge. The only thing I can think of making him is breakfast, even though it is like 4 in the morning and by the time he wakes up, food will already be cold. Then I think of doing something cruel to him. The type of cruel that is also mercyful, a bittersweet kind of feeling. 

Walking back to the room where the man with red hair and a hat obsession slept, I stared at his resting figure in the bed, chest moving up and down slowly, proving that he was alive, but soon he will feel like dying for a while. I moved inside the room and made my way towards one of the nightstands, grabbing what I came from. I walk back into the kitchen to start my parting gift, or curse. He will be the one to decide which one is it, or is it both. 

“I am nowhere as a good cook as you are, honestly I think you are probably going to think that my cooking is pathetic but suck it up, esto es lo que hay ” I said in a low voice, looking into the phone I have place in front of me by the end of the surface of the kitchen island.