Heyooo

I like, got this chapter completed super quickly. I sort of just typed blindly as per usual and this is where my mind went. I mean I have a couple ideas but they're like, 'oh it would be just sooo soupy cute if that happen! I can totally see that!' but I have no idea how I'll get the story there.

Anyway! Please Enjoy

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Izaya dragged me into a giant bookstore and looked around excitedly. He didn't seem remotely interested in the books, but the peoples who rummaged through them. We ducked behind a bookshelf and Izaya cheerfully watched people go about their business.

"I missed Ikebukuro so much" he sighed, watching a mother tell off her teenage boy with adoring eyes.

It was creepy. I knew this. People watching was pretty fun, but Izaya took it to a weird level of strange. However, he looked so happy?! I didn't know what was weirder; him staring at people and liking it or me staring at him stare at people and liking it. He had a nice smile when it was genuine…

"Shizuo, listen" he held a finger to his lips.

A man had approached the shelf, leading his tiny daughter with him. She couldn't be older than four and had to reach up to clutch his hand. He was clearly a little overwhelmed, obviously having to get some research done while entertaining a small child.

"So how's your mama?" he asked as he scanned the bookcase.

"Good," the girl squeaked, nodding furiously "she is happy."

"Yeah? That's good" he said, not too bothered.

"She is happy because she gotted a new best friend. They have sleepovers and tickle fights just like you and mama used to do."

That made him pause "who are they?"

"Naomi."

The man blinked down at his daughter for a moment before breaking out in a smile and chuckling lightly "you know, that actually makes a lot of sense."

I couldn't help but smirked at that. Izaya was downright gleeful, gushing over his love for humans.

I scoffed "you talk as if you aren't one."

"Maybe I'm not" he purred, slipping around the case to idly inspect a homemade display what was clearly created by a member of staff.

"It's so cute" Izaya wrinkled his nose "it would fit lovely in your apartment."

"Fuck you" I spat, walking quickly away before my temper escalated.

He trotted after my heavy strides as I barged out of the shop. He was light on his feet so kept up with me nicely but lingered back a couple of feet, giving me space. I was surprised by the gesture but kept it to myself.

"I wasn't finished in there" the informant muttered. Though when I glanced back at him he was smiling contently and not actually sulking. He would move his head calmly from side to side and kept his gaze steady, but I knew he was hungrily taking everything in. Not much had changed since he'd been gone- a sign post repair here and there- but he'd probably pick up on a lot more than me.

I felt people staring and noted that there were more gapping than usual. I knew seeing me in such close proximity to Izaya without a fight was bound to cause attention. It was annoying. An angry itch began to crawl up my neck and I quickly decided it was time to get off the street.

"Come on," I grabbed Izaya and yanked him forward "I know a place you might like. Just don't fuck it up."

"Someone is eager."

"I hate people looking at me."

"As shy as ever, I see."

"Shut it, flea."

I guided Izaya through the dark room. The only lighting in the place came from small red candles, which sat on the table tops. I shoved him into the bars most shadowy booth before sitting down opposite him. Izaya rested an elbow on the table and leant against his hand. I focused my attention on the blues player on stage. He sat on an old bar stool, plucking and even older guitar. I zoned in on his hard, calloused fingers and tried to ignore Izaya's incessant stare.

I was about to break when the waiter saved me- or better yet, saved Izaya. "What you gentlemen drinking tonight?"

"Nikka whiskey" Izaya flashed him a pearly smile.

"Yeah, same" I said, dismissively.

The waiter bowed his head and went to collect our drinks.

I loved this bar. It was hidden down a dark Ikebukuro alleyway, down in a shadowy basement. I had stumbled across it a couple years ago and it had become a regular hangout. I felt a little out of place with the artistic folk that came here, but it seemed an unspoken rule to leave people be. The chatter was always minimal and quiet; the people focused on the stage and the performers on it who had never got their break.

I continued to watch the man on stage. He was a regular performer at the bar, who covered artists like Skip James, Lightnin' Hopkins and Johnny Woods as well as his own sad songs. As our drinks arrived he broke out into R.L Burnside's 'like a bird without a feather'. I closed my eyes and leant back in my seat.

Izaya was silent, apparently fixated on the singer and his song. I opened an eye to peak at him and he looked uncharacteristically dumbstruck. I chuckled silently and reclosed my eye.

I let the music wash over us. Taking in songs like 'devil stole my woman' and 'ball and chain'.

"Janis Joplin?" Izaya frowned.

"Bigger Mama Thorton" I corrected.

"I didn't think you'd be into this" Izaya let out a shaky sigh.

"You ever listened to it before?"

Izaya shook his head "I like it."

"Hm" I nodded.

Izaya watched me. He didn't say a word. I removed my glasses and met his gaze. There was no tension in our eyes, neither of us trying to stare down the other.

"It's confusing, isn't it" he whispered, twirling his finger around the rim of his glass. I glanced down at the long, slim fingers. He had very pretty hands; delicate and small in comparison to mine.

I snapped my head away "very."

Izaya sat back in his seat "tell me something about yourself. What's your favourite colour?"

I narrowed my eyes "surely you know."

"Surprisingly not. I'm curious."

I tapped the table, thoughtfully. This was probably a game. And I decided to play "what are the rules?"

Izaya grinned "Twenty questions. We can ask each other anything and you have to reply honestly. I will too."

"No cheating" I warned.

"You in?" he bared his teeth.

I folded my arms "Teal."

Izaya laughed and looked away "It does suit you."

"My go. What's like, up with the jacket? It seems important to you."

Izaya raised his brows, surprised I'd focus in on something like that. I still had nineteen more questions to use on more important things, so I thought I'd waste a couple on some lighter ones.

He thought about it "It was a gift. It was… a nice gesture and I feel… good in it. I think it suits me. I'm quite small so it's hard to find jackets that are very flattering."

It seemed a sincere enough answer. I wondered who had given him the jacket… perhaps I'd ask later.

"Are you going to drink that?" he nodded to the glass of whiskey that sat untouched in front of me.

"Is that one of your questions?" I grinned, smugly.

He laughed "no, it is not. The glasses, are they prescription?"

I snorted "that's what you want to know?"

"I'm just curious."

"Yes."

"You're go."

I look my time deciding what to ask next. He didn't rush me, patiently sipping his drink. I watched how carefully he would sip it. He'd barely open his lips, he would just suck the liquid from his lips.

"Do I have to ask all of them now?" … "And this doesn't count as a question."

"It depends on if you intend to see me again, I guess" Izaya turned his head but looked up at me through thick lashes.

I snorted and promised nothing "you close to your parents?"

"Oh, good question. You made things interesting" Izaya laced his fingers together "what brought this on?"

"Well, your sisters seemed excited to see you last time I saw them. I thought that could mean you don't go home often" I shrugged.

"My parents are fairly normal. They're often abroad on business. I still attend family events and will go home for dinner and stuff when they're about. I'll also go see my sisters when mum and dad are away but they annoy me. Like you I don't know how to deal with them."

"I can't imagine you having parents" I said, trying to picture his mother. I wondered if he took after her and if she was like my own mother. I doubted it and imagined her to be a cut-throat business woman. Yeah, that worked.

"Same question to you."

I coughed "my family is perfectly normal…"

"You can't lie" Izaya wagged a finger at me and winked.

I gritted my teeth "my mum is very… motherly. Both are very supportive of both me and my brother. Though they don't approve of my- uh- tantrums. They try and help. I've… I've never hurt any of my family."

Izaya smiled softly "I bet you don't call your mother enough. I bet she worries."

Ah, he got me there "I do call her… but I- never mind! I answered."

"No, I'd like to hear more!"

"No. Touch my family and I swear-"

"I wouldn't. I couldn't."

"Bullshit, home-wrecker" I spat.

Izaya bowed his head and glared at the table.

We didn't speak after that and just watched the stage again. This time a woman sat at the piano and played a twinkly little tune. I wanted to murder the piano and that stupid, sad song.

"I really miss Ikebukuro" Izaya sighed gazing up at the brightly lit advertisements. He outstretched his arms, as if trying to touch them. "I mean, I don't live that far away but still… it's weird not being in it. And my god, I was in all of it."

"Hmm" I hummed, agreeing that he was definitely up in everyone's business.

He span to confront me with a serious expression, ready to read my response "Is it too soon to move back?"

I thought about it.

"I don't understand why you left for so long. You wanted things to cool down, but… you seem to be waiting for people to stop being mad. It's as if you care."

Izaya cocked his head and smiled yet somehow I knew I had actually struck something within him. I waited.

"Well, well, Shizuo-chan! You might be smarter than you look" he mocked me.

"Arsehole" I growled, hunching my shoulder and walking away.

The annoying flea skipped after me, side stepping around me so he was in front. "Don't be bitter~" he sung, swaying his hips a little.

I shoved him harshly out the way and marched on "why do you have to be like that?"

"Like what?" Izaya sounded curious.

"You try and get a reaction from me but then don't tell me what's up…"

Izaya raised his brows "huh."

I whipped around to glare at him through tinted glasses "what?"

"I just didn't expect that to be the answer" he pouted.

I sighed and continued to walk, somehow knowing he would follow "why do you think you know me so well?"

"You seem to know me pretty well" Izaya huffed.

"I don't know shit about you" I spat "I don't understand you at all."

"I think you do" he whispered "more than anyone else at least."

I stopped to consider that and couldn't really deny it. I had hated him with such passion, it bordered on obsession and people would definitely describe it as a complex. Whenever I was free, my unoccupied mind would drift to him. I would imagine that cocky, knowing smile and his smooth, silky voice. I would picture his snowy skin and dark eyes, which would flash almost red in the right lighting. Those carnelian orbs would bore into me; tearing through me, exposing my weaknesses, fears and inner being. It would make me mad, insecure, sick and afraid but that wasn't thing that had me hooked.

This man. This painstakingly cruel, exasperating man. So charming and social, yet not one genuine or lasting bond. He could easily pretend, being as manipulative as he was. But he was alone. He kept people exactly where he wanted. Remaining at a distance; close enough to see but not be seen. Yet to me… Strong, cold carnelian eyes warped into flaking, decaying steel. His eyes were rust- broken, peeling, rough.

Like me, there was weakness. Like me, he was falling apart. And like me, his hard shell was rotting away, revealing his core.

But only I could see this. He had allowed me to see and for that I could not ignore him. He had made himself the one consistent element to my life. As much as I despised and resented the bastard, I could not hide from him. And as if in return, he had stopped hiding from me.

A low rumble of thunder brought me back and a light shower quickly turned into a heavy downpour. The street quickly deserted, leaving just me and Izaya in the rain. The shower clouded my vision, the bright street signs becoming a colourful blur. The water slapped against the pavement, drowning out the city sounds. The rain washed away the rest of the world; drenching me, numbing me and leaving me alone.

"You ever look up and just want to scream? Scream and scream and scream" Izaya gazed up at the storming heavens.

"Yeah" I harmonized.

He smiled and closed his eyes.

"Hey," I called "Izaya…"

"Hm?"

"I think… I think you're alone."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah… and I'm alone too."

He waited.

"I mean, I think we're alone. But we've always been together, right?"

He mouthed the word 'yes' before letting out a terrifying and broken scream, which was barely audible over the fall.

I was up all night dealing with a sick friend and wrote this the following day. Was listening to blues. It was pouring outside. And that apparently influenced this.

I'd really like to hear what you guys think. Might help me figure out where I'm going so if you could comment that would be soupy nice. I mean, I don't mind but yeah, I'm a tad lost.

Thank you to all those who stuck around and read this!

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