[ The life changing trials and tribulations undertaken in the last few days linger on them both like a grimy second skin. Dazai wants to scrub his own flesh until it's raw as if to scrape away every last memory of what's happened to practically wrench his heart out from his very chest. Yet Linneus' constant presence combats his urge towards self destruction, preventing it from blooming into action. It's inexplicable, but having this kind of companionship keeps at bay the kind of chilly detached cruelty Dazai is capable of when he's broken down into his basest sense of self.
A world destroyed can easily break a man, and Dazai knows he's teetering on that razor's edge. Logic tries to remind that he's not alone, that many have suffered over and over again yet remain steadfastly strong. Linneus is the perfect example, refusing to lash out or collapse in defeat. Not even when Linneus' faithful companion's absence echos loudly in a silence where the trotting of a certain little llama can no longer be heard.
He's being selfish, wallowing in a grief that could consume him in a short space of time and destroy the bond he's worked so very hard to nurture with Linneus. It's tempting, to be driven into pushing the other man away, running from his kindness and the all consuming dread of yet again feeling that soul-shattering sense of loss that always comes with caring for someone else. But as fearful as he is of getting close to anyone ever again, Dazai can't bear to cut off their contact as though none of it had mattered.
Dazai feels torn in two, between isolating himself and seeking comfort in someone who has been his rock from the start of their interaction. And in that frustration a hand slips free to cover eyes that feel raw as the rest of him does.
It's the soft presses to his skin, which his eyes shut beneath to soak up and draw strength from, that finally begin to pull him from the darkness. A sigh expels some of his anxieties, setting broad shoulders into straightening and his gaze less steely than a moment before. ]
Funny, wasn't I the one who was supposed to be looking after you?
[ There's a playful tug upon one tattered inch of Linneus' sleeve, noting beyond it's decrepit and dirty condition that it should come away along with Dazai's clothes. ]
Here. [ A touch to the hem, suggesting it should be lifted. ] Let me help you, as you've done for me?
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A world destroyed can easily break a man, and Dazai knows he's teetering on that razor's edge. Logic tries to remind that he's not alone, that many have suffered over and over again yet remain steadfastly strong. Linneus is the perfect example, refusing to lash out or collapse in defeat. Not even when Linneus' faithful companion's absence echos loudly in a silence where the trotting of a certain little llama can no longer be heard.
He's being selfish, wallowing in a grief that could consume him in a short space of time and destroy the bond he's worked so very hard to nurture with Linneus. It's tempting, to be driven into pushing the other man away, running from his kindness and the all consuming dread of yet again feeling that soul-shattering sense of loss that always comes with caring for someone else. But as fearful as he is of getting close to anyone ever again, Dazai can't bear to cut off their contact as though none of it had mattered.
Dazai feels torn in two, between isolating himself and seeking comfort in someone who has been his rock from the start of their interaction. And in that frustration a hand slips free to cover eyes that feel raw as the rest of him does.
It's the soft presses to his skin, which his eyes shut beneath to soak up and draw strength from, that finally begin to pull him from the darkness. A sigh expels some of his anxieties, setting broad shoulders into straightening and his gaze less steely than a moment before. ]
Funny, wasn't I the one who was supposed to be looking after you?
[ There's a playful tug upon one tattered inch of Linneus' sleeve, noting beyond it's decrepit and dirty condition that it should come away along with Dazai's clothes. ]
Here. [ A touch to the hem, suggesting it should be lifted. ] Let me help you, as you've done for me?