I swear I hate you

•an uncharacteristic form of love•

(A/N:uhm. Happy pills :)
TW: drugs, self harm, suicide and other fun topics.

*~*~*~*
"Well too bad, cause you won't die if I'm here."

~•*•*•*•~
Setting: Dazai's apartment
Timeframe: five minutes later after Chuuya finds Dazai
Dazai's pov:

I could tell Chuuya wanted to help me but was torn.

He looked almost indescribably angry, a sort of rage that was hard to contain. I wasn't sure what is was directed at though, which surprised me.

Chuuya was furiously searching my cabinets for painkillers, bandaids , and of course my favorite bandages.

He was muttering to himself, and I watched him with glazed over eyes.

Why was I trying to kill myself last night again? Did I even have a reason? Or was it some intrusive thought...

Intrusive thoughts. Thoughts that I wished would go away. The urge to do things to myself for reasons that have little founding.

Cut yourself. That'll help deal with the overwhelming grief, regret, and guilt you feel.

Kill yourself. And you'll never have to deal with life again.

I wished I didn't have to think these things, and yet at the same time they were an part of me that I couldn't change.

But at the same time I couldn't deal with them.

I sighed, laying down on the couch. I probably looked like a dead fish.

"Oi, mackerel."
Chuuya said, his voice laced with a tenderness I hadn't experienced before. I wasn't sure if this was even Chuuya.

"Uh huhhh?"
I grunted out, my voice hoarse. My ligature was probably about to snap. Now wouldn't that be just lovely.

"Why'd... why'd you... Never mind. Where are your cups, this place is a mess."
Chuuya started, his tone slightly shifting to its usual swagger.

"Cups. Bottom left cabinet."
I grunted out, sprawled out across the couch. I massaged my neck slightly. It had a strange ident on it from the rope.

It was a weird texture. Like if you accidentally leave a hairclip on your arm and you get those strange indents.

I absentmindedly counted the stars in the sky. Wait.

I'm inside.

~•*•*•*•~
Timeframe: like 2 seconds later
Setting: Dazai's apartment
Chuuya's pov:

I heard a loud thump sound and whirled around to see Dazai passed out on the floor.

Goddamit Dazai.

I wasn't sure how to feel about that. I mean at least he wouldn't say anything. Not that he'd be able to for awhile.

I groaned and facepalmed.

I just HAD to be mr. Nice guy.

And I was about to sleep off this hangover...
Well, a man's gotta take what he can get.

And right now, Dazai was my number one priority.

Not that I cared for him. I just.... I couldn't imagine him not being alive.

Even thinking about Dazai dying made my gut clench and the grayness rise up.

The grayness... it was emptiness incarnate, like a sort of cloud that just existed within me. It wasn't really a thing that could be focused on, simply a presence.