Love?

He almost scoffed outright at the idea, at the slightest thought of it. How impossible, or so he thought, as he looked at the black figure, agile as he went, flashing that never ending smile at the blonde.

Despicable, annoying, dishonest flea. Shizuo crushed his cigarette, thinking of everything about the raven that riled him up. That made him absolutely despise him. That smirk especially, the one he only showed to Shizuo. The one that made Shizuo's blood boil. The way he said his name, the ridiculous nickname hanging off his red lips.

Shizu-chan…

But yet, he couldn't help but chase the louse whenever he appeared, could he? He hated that the most; the way Izaya seemed to have such a strong hold on him, pulling him wherever he liked, messing up Shzuo's rhythm because, hell, he knew the blonde would drop whatever he was doing just to run after him. And Shizuo knew it too.

And he hated it.

But yet, he couldn't stop his legs from moving, his body acting against his will. He couldn't help the chase he knew this would result in, because it always, always, began with the flea calling him, and constantly, repeatedly ended with Shizuo, home, alone, sitting by his window, smoking the same cigarette and scoffing at the same stupid idea of love. Because he hated Izaya. He really did.

Despite that though, the blonde never failed to run after the raven.

Because even he knew, there was a blurred line between hate and love.