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Summary
It's cold for a Spring evening. Dazai scuffs his feet on the pavement and scowls against the wind, reaching the end intersection where left means he turns towards his apartment and right means he'll end up in centre town. He licks against the cut on his lip, his saliva stinging and a comfort at the same time against the raw flesh, and turns right.
These days, his misery enjoys company.
Series
- Part 3 of Homing Signals
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Bookmark Notes:
E just a little. Heavy blueish mood. Not angst but maybe H/C tone. Short.
