Greet Me With Goodbye
Osamu Dazai x Reader
After you were gone.
Dazai sat at the small desk in his room. It was around eight pm, the streets of Yokohama were full of people eager to go back home to their families and loved ones. The stresses of a long workday began to ebb as traffic drifted through the roads. He however sat alone, pouring himself a glass of whiskey.
This was around the time you would have rung at his doorbell, a bag of homemade dinner hooked around your arm as you called out to him in your sweet voice. Then he'd answer, even on the worst days because you looked forward to this just as much as he did.
Then sitting on the table, he'd take out a bottle of liquor, didn't matter what, somedays Sake, and when he decided to be fancy it would be Japanese whiskey. Then you'd talk about your day, he mostly listened. You talked a lot, he just liked hearing your voice.
Today however the doorbell stayed quiet. No home-made dinner, no you. He hoped if he took out his fanciest bottle then you'd show up. He could lure you in with a flirty smile. But he wasn't capable of raising the dead was he?
He laughed bitterly to himself, taking a sip of his whiskey. It made its way through his throat in a familiar burn. This was simply the price of letting someone inside he should have seen it coming. He could now go back to being his usual self, keeping everyone at just a little distance from his heart.
But there was still a part of him that missed the warm dinners and warmer company that only you could ever bring.