╰┈➤. In which words held the key to fate, they always have.
Each fairytale has its time, people, places, and story to tell.
Thats what makes them unique and magical, that's what increases their impact.
A whole world, once an endless void of nothi...
All this while the man beside you had not once turned his head in your direction, as if something was stopping him, holding him back. "I admit what he does can seem a bit cruel at times, but I assure you everything he does is because he only wants what's best for us, every parent would. Plus, he is our creator, he alone brought us all into this world, he knew us before we even knew ourselves, he blessed us, he loved us."
"But he doesn't love me, no one does." He lowered his head now, as if falling into a deep slumber, but you saw his fists clench with an emotion so overwhelming it seemed it would break through the confinement of his heart and wreck his entire body. "I've done too much, I've destroyed, I've ruined, I've condemned, and I did it all with a grounded mind, without a single regret or second thought. Do you really think he would want someone as wretched and ruined as me?"
You blinked, a bit taken aback by his outburst, "Look, I don't know what you've been through, I don't know what you've done. And I know it must have been rough, but I do want you to know something. God has a plan, he has a reason for every single thing he does, he had a plan when he made each and every one of us, and we need to trust in that plan, no matter how hard it may be at times."
"How do you know he even exists? How do you even know what he's like?"
"No one does, and no one can. We can only believe his truth and existence." You held up a book, "Like this, this is his word, written by men who were inspired by the Holy Spirit, for us. So we can learn about and know him."
He turned his head to you now, letting you finally get a glimpse of what he looked like, and to cut it short, he was beautiful.
His uncovered eye was a rich brown that seemed to rival even the finest of wood as it narrowed at the book in your hands, his thin lips were poised in a frown, and now you realized, his bandages weren't covering the entire right side of his face, it was just his right eye, as if sheltering it from all the impurities of this world.
"Each word, each line, each page, it all contains stories, truths, and histories that took place long before any of us. Of people chosen, lives saved, lives destroyed, and lives born anew. This alone, is the ultimate guide."
"A stack of paper?"
"Don't look at its appearance, but at its credibility." You extended it to him with a smile.
His gaze dropped to the book, then back to your face, sincere, genuine, and pure, "But how do I know what to look for?"
"You don't have to, just read it. You might find hundreds of the same copy at a book store, but each time you look you find something new."
"You aren't the type that believes in made up testimonies by big shot pastors, are you?"
"I only believe what God wants me to, what he has written, and what he has laid out for me."
"And if you end up being a moron?"
"Then at least I lived a life I believed in."
Was he living a life he believed in? He joined the port mafia 4 years ago because he hoped it would give some, any kind of meaning to his mess of a life, but it hadn't, it never did, and it never will. Odasaku said it himself, and he knew that he wasn't lying, he would never.
He took the Bible and stood up abruptly, "Maybe one day, but not now."
You tilted your head down, the smiled at him with tenderness a mother would a child, "Give it time...will you be coming next week?"
"No."
─•────
And yet he was, albeit, not when you or himself expected to.
Life was not in the slightest bit better, at least his wasn't, but he was trying,
Hoping.
He strode up the stairs with his hands in the pockets of his beige coat, his brown hair bouncing along with every step, and his eyes scanning every column, counting every row until,
"Is this seat taken?"
You turned to look at the man next to you, and smiled, "No,"
He sat down next to you, a small but noticeable smile on his face, his eyes glinting with the flicker of a light you hadn't seen the last time. "How've you been?"
"Good, long time no see I guess." You said, he was a bit older now, with sharper features and a slightly taller frame but it was still him, you were sure of it, except now he no longer wore a bandage on his face.
"Two years to be exact."
"How've you been holding up?"
He paused, as if hesitating, "I...I want to give this—him a shot."
"I'm glad, uhm, what was your name again?"
"Dazai, Dazai Osamu."
⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆
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A/N: I can not be the only one this happens to, like that thing when you get an idea, bring it to life with words, finish, and then look back and realize it's actually shitty.
Like I'm not even gonna lie I feel like this is terrible, not the idea, but the way I presented it, I feel like I didn't do it justice. 😞
And for clearance I have been to church, but the only thing I've ever taken note of is how the pastor always talks and then offerings are given, songs are sang, then everyone goes home. I'm unsure what denomination I'm in but I know it starts with a 'P'. It's either Presbyterian or it might just be my bad memory but there was another one that started with 'P' right?
Plus, I was debating if I should make this into two separate parts for the before and after, then I said NAHHHHH!!
