✧ "YOU CLING TO YOUR PAPERS AND PENS;
(wait until you like me again)"
☆ synopsis ↺: your ex, chuuya nakahara drunk calls you, only to realise you're all he ever wants. (based off arianas song: we can't be friends (wait until you like me again)
☆ content ↺: angst, slight stormbringer spoilers, swearing
Haunted - (of a place) frequented by a ghost.
—You were no ghost, Chuuya knew that. But in the rise of the sun, and awakening of the moon, he was haunted.
No, he didn't feel haunted. He's convinced he is, even if the fuel to propel those kinds of shitty thoughts is getting drunk on days when he should be resting.
—
"I want to burn every memory of you."
Chuuya murmurs under his breath, gloved fingers twirling the base of the wine glass to stimulate his turbulent thoughts—vibrant emotions that swish in the swell of his chest.
"You'd have to burn your own skin." A sweet voice breaks through the bitter taste of the red wine dissolving on his tongue. The statement and hollowness of your voice make him sharply turn behind him. Nothing. Just his empty office, the window before it, the cold air dancing around his tensed-up figure. Your absence evocative him.
Chuuya exhales sharply, a chill running up his spine. "My own skin?.." He takes a slim hand to card his russet locks in a cold confusion, scoffing just a bit. "Shit."
The mafioso leans back in the leather seat of his chair, before pouring the last of his wine bottle into the glass. Patting down his bolo tie and white dress shirt, he decides to waste this night drowning in red wine. A heavenly distraction from the reality of your hauntings, or the reality of your absence.
18k worth of alcoholic beverages wasted, down in the trash. Inaudible words conform on the curve of his lips, words of plea. It was a huge contrast to when Chuuya left you. "I'm sorry, really am.." he whispers, remnants of his scarlet wine ghosting over his lips. Fedora placed atop his head, covering his face, Chuuya lazily took out his phone, punching in his password with the messy coordination of his gloved fingers.
You're here, that's the thing.
Your number.
The mafia executive takes a shy and longing peek at your contact. Your last call 3 months ago, your profile picture stained with an old photo of you kissing his knuckles with an innocent smile tugging on your lips, and his thumb hovering over the 'call' button. Even in this drunken state, in the back of Chuuya's mind, he knew calling you would be audacious and pathetic. Especially when he left you first, but in the front of his mind, all he wanted was you. To hear your voice, either empty or full anger, or your voicemail, polite and concise, to hear the humanity that he lost by losing you.
The winter night
Chuuya presses on the call button, his screen lighting up and ringing. No real expectation that you were going to pick up, considering the time and caller. In the sea of his heart, that dreadful feeling was fought back by the artistic shuffle of his delusions. His once romantic poems chanted a mantra for you to pick up, that you were going to pick up the phone, not your ghost.
Chuuya's brows furrow, planting a line in the middle of his glabella. On this chilly night, where the usual jazz tunes of ensembles played in the Port Mafia's lobbies, musky scents and a hint of jasmine, and the click and clatter of heels and dress shoes..
My heart grieves;
..Chuuya feels himself yearning. Yearning for something more than this. The scent of home, your articles of clothing, your skin. He wants back the memory he wants to burn so badly, to smell the smoke and die on that same hill..
Greives without reason…
.."Please pick up." He feels himself pleading. Chuuya may tell himself you're all he wants right now, alcohol running wild in his noggin. However, he questions if he even knows what he needs..
My heart is rusting, turning purple.
.."Hi, you've reached [Y/N]. Thanks for calling, can't answer at the moment though. But if you leave a message I'll get back to you as soon as I can."
Beep.
The night ends as Chuuya gently shuts off his phone.
But his first dream starts once enough alcohol is in his system.
They say the mind blocks out traumatizing memories to save itself from despondency. Nakahara Chuuya dreams, but he cannot grasp to remember that concept. Maybe, it's awful memories from his childhood or hallucinations from the children of the Sheep, or the Flags; Albatross, Doc, Pianoman, Iceman and Lippman.
"I'm sorry, if I stay with you, you'll just get hurt."
As if he was restricted in the ocean of his mind, Chuuya sees you and himself in your living room.
"I won't! You can send your bodyguards for protection, it's fine."
A constricted groan pulls from Chuuya's throat as he stares at the couch, wooden flooring, and anything but your pleading face. He remembers this all too well, the evening you separated. It was when Dazai left the mafia, and Chuuya continued to see his men drop like flies day after day from just his job alone. Apart from the other half of his soul disappearing completely, every piece of humanity he built up came crashing down on the body that his older brother called 2383 lines of code.
"It's not other people, it's myself! Don't you fuckin' get it?!"
A piercing silence fills the room. Aside from Chuuya's heart dropping at his own hurtful words, he tries to shut himself up, for looking at the way your eyes conform from pleading to understanding was all too much.
His voice cracking from the boiling misery in the pit of his stomach, Chuuya continues to look down, refusing to meet your teary eyes.
"You won't gain shit by being with me. I'm a monster, [Y/N]. I'm sorry."
The mafioso stares right at your pitiful figure, crystal tears poking the corners of your eyes. Like the hauntingly beautiful ghost he's ever seen through tunnel vision, Chuuya hasn't seen your truthful humanity in so long. For he saw you—a figment of himself, as he saw himself; inhuman.
...
"I'll always love you."
Chuuya snaps awake on his office chair, rays of sunshine ghosting over his ivory skin.
Pant.. Pant.
The man's eyes gaze at the loose ends of his office: the empty wine bottle, his dishevelled clothing, and the same, corporate-filled air surrounding him. Then, his phone.
2 missed calls.
Chuuya inhales sharply.
Perhaps it was the remnants of his dreadful hangover that took over him, that made Chuuya make the stupidest decision the Port Mafia has ever. But, his drunk words were his sober thoughts and, he wanted you back.
From [Y/N] [L/N].
Sent 7:35 AM — "Are you okay?"
And so, he swiftly grabbed his overcoat and dashed out of his office.
—
Mwah!
"I, Nakahara Chuuya, vow to love you forever and ever."
The man, bent down on one knee kisses the back of your hand teasingly. Chuuya Nakahara always took it next level, his grand gestures and sophisticated aura made him all the more appealing. That also meant planting an abundance more kisses on your fingers and knuckles.
You two had this unspoken code for each other: that hand kisses were an extremely valuable thing. Since Chuuya believes his hands are the ignition for Corruption, and are usually used for destruction, you could've chosen to have done anything with his ungloved hands to avenge the lives he's taken; but instead, you choose to kiss them.
"You're being corny again," you giggle, pointing to the bouquet in your hand—irises. "you even got me flowers."
You hit his head, huffing. "Hey!"
The mafioso smirks, chuckling. "I think you should be proud of yourself though," He teases, rubbing your hand gently, "you finally cooked something other than instant noodl—
Thwack!
—
In a disorienting manner, Chuuya hops off his motorbike at your workplace. Inhaling softly as he holds a bouquet of irises. All kinds of turbulent thoughts ran wild in his head, especially since he didn't get to shower yesterday. The man patted down his clothes and fixed his fair, adjusting his wrist to check his watch.
8:54.
Your work starts at 9:00 sharp.
Just as he's rushing to adjust his raven collar and fedora, the sight of your hair and work uniform catches his eye.
"Wait!"
—
Distance, timing and expectations.
The great adversaries of love.
A person cannot change distance or timing, but expectations are self-inflicted.
Chuuya felt like you were always going to expect more from him because he felt like he lacked in every way besides destruction. He expected that he was going to hurt you after Dazai left the Port Mafia, like a lingering spirit after they've lost their other half. Chuuya was responsible for inflicting negative 'what if's because of his own insecurities, losing you in the process.
He expected because you wanted him to stay back then, you were going to want that forever.
Because that's clearly not the case right now.
—
The redhead finally sees you in the sea of passersby, a clear image of your smiling face, pretty outfit, and glowing aura.
You stood out to him just like before.
So did the man beside you, with a bouquet of daffodils.
He took a fancy bow and kissed the back of your hand, handing over the flowers.
Oh, how irises—the flower of light, brought nothing more to him than darkness.
As crystal tears paint his eyes, Chuuya ponders the ache in his heart. He was truly foolish to believe more in your ghost, than you.
✧ chocsra™
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WHAT FANDOMS ARE U IN OTHER THAN CSM OR BSD
mine is yttd btw :3
OMG YAYAY IM GLAD U ASKED THIS QUESTION <3
I USED TO PLAY YTTDDDDDDD OMG
honestly when i like a certain fandom its like the only thing i like for like a year BUTTT I HAD A LOT OF OTHER FANDOMS I USED TO BE INTO. im a bsd centric fan, i also like csm bc of the writing of kobeni & asa (BEFORE IT GOT TIKTOKIFIED :() BUT ANYWAYS
used to be into:
danganronpa (please stop)
genshin (sometimes i still play it, not into it tho - i was obsessed w the raiden shogun, I STILL HAVE A COSPLAY OF HER STOP)
viral hit/how to fight (webtoon about a broke guy fighting ppl for money, it was pretty good - i also only read for taehoon and gyeoul)
alice in borderland (the fandom i was in before i got into bsd, loved chishiya & kuina)
other old media i wasnt obsessed wit and still enjoy: attack on titan, saiki k, persona 5, heathers, hamilton, the walking dead game & resident evil
yandere simulator (i dont support the creator neither do i play anymore)
fandoms im into rn??? or media i enjoy:
atla
kpop except im not in the fandom & will prolly get called basic
bsd
jjk? kinda
csm
bes (blue eye samurai)
makeup & skincare (igari, 2000s asian makeup & uzzlang)
GIRL FROM NOWHEREEEE I WILL NEVER SHUT UP
i did NOT need to write allat but now you know!! im not in a lot of fandoms so i apologize 🙏
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