Pairing: Shizaya
Theme: redemption
Even Namie found herself concerned, but only slightly so, for Orihara Izaya.
He had holed himself in his office, dismissing even what were basically invitations for chaos. His twisted board game had hardly been touched and Namie found unopened packages of ootoro in the trash; the kitchen was undisturbed except for the water filter and just one glass.
She came to check on him occasionally--and for her paycheck--but was turned away and soon gave up, leaving the man alone by himself.
Izaya sighed and opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling from the comforts of his bed. He reached out blindly, hitting his hand around until his fingers brushed the cell phone he was looking for and flipped it open, scowling as he saw numbers from everyone: Shinra, Mairu and Kururi, Namie, Shiki, even Celty, as well as a few business acquaintances he didn't want to deal with. Even he checked his other phones, he knew it was clear that he wouldn't see a single call or text from Shizuo.
He rolled over in his bed, disgusted with how much he cared. Maybe part of it was because he had been rejected instead of the other way around, but it was pathetic what kind of an emotional wreck he had become after Shizuo declared their relationship over--for such a stupid reason, Izaya thought bitterly.
"Isn't he stupid?" he muttered quietly, screwing his eyes shut. "I really thought he'd be the type to believe in love changing people and love himself if someone else did... stupid, stupid, stupid Shizu-chan. Always so unpredictable."
He went through these thoughts in his mind daily before he finally dragged himself out of bed and made an attempt to eat. But anything he made--or took out of the refrigerator since he didn't cook often--made him feel nauseous and instead settled for a glass of water.
That phrase was muttered over and over again everyday and left a sour taste on Izaya's tongue as he went over to the television and turned it on, spending yet another day watching anything to distract himself. People kept knocking on his door and eventually gave up; the knocks were always too timid, too polite, too rhythmic.
And when he heard a knocking that day, Izaya turned to look at it, scowling. He recognized the uneven pounding that turned into kicking and could imagine the person behind it, hands in pockets, probably smoking. A part of him wanted to go and answer it but a larger part told him to be stubborn, to make him wait.
Nevertheless, he decided fifteen minutes of this was enough and forced himself to walk slowly to the door. The moment he undid the lock, the kicking stopped and he twisted the handle and opened it, refusing to let any sort of emotion flicker in his expression when he saw Shizuo, blonde hair a disarray and bags under his eyes.
Silence, but his grip on the doorknob tightened and Shizuo brought a hand up to run through his hair, muttering a curse under his breath.
Izaya still said nothing, instead hardened his glare and hoped that Shizuo couldn't hear his heart beating rapidly.
"I... fuck, let me into your goddamn apartment so we can talk."
"That's not a very nice way of asking," Izaya drawled and for a moment, Shizuo looked surprised, as if he was expecting the door to be shut in his face. But the informant stepped to the side, extending a silent invitation, and Shizuo relaxed, letting even a small smile grace his lips.
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