Roppi knows his flaws; and recovery is a long way, but faith is strong when his hand is in Ikebukuro's Beasts palm.
His mind is a bit off; always have been. Always would be. Hachimenroppi was all to familiar with the irrational thought patterns and uncanny desire to go out a harm someone- himself- anyone. It's scary, frightening and making him hate himself a little bit more. He scratches at his wrists, his arms and his eyes are heavy and thick with a need to sleep. Though, bright carmine eyes are catching sights; the streets memorized, engraved in his mind; he walks as if he doesn't know where to go. It's true, in a way, when he's shaking and tugging his coat over his shoulder and sneezing faintly beneath his sleeve.
His free hand, cold and small- smooth but the wrists and arms scarred, thin and small. He's bordering underweight. He doesn't like food, not the taste nor how it comes out. Sometimes, if he eats too much, a actual meal, it comes up the same way- the same day. Or maybe the next morning, and his stomach is aching, empty and burning until all he gets out is bile.
His free hand, is clinging to a stronger one. His head; leaning against a warm body. Fabric is brushing against his cheek, and it's not bothersome. Not in the same way his jacket brushes up against old scars; new cuts and irritates him. Sometimes he feels suffocated; and wants to rip it to shreds. But then it helps, hides him.
Roppi is cold, and as usual, Shizuo is warm. Warm in so many ways; in passion, in heat, in his personality. It's so sweet. How one day he looked, saw Izaya and then another, now, he sees Roppi. Because Roppi, is different, he's himself. Even if he struggles finding himself, trying to disconnect from each thought that urges to just end it. Shizuo doesn't see Izaya anymore; not in the way Roppi talks with that soft, husky tone. Not in the way he holds himself, not confident, not sure. Timid and scared.
It's not a date. They aren't going out, instead Shizuo had came to retrieve him from a hospital, because he relasped, and couldn't- couldn't- breath, and tired to hurt himself, atleast once more and he knows it disappoints Shizuo. He didn't mean too, he just saw something, and it scared him, until the only option to escape that feeling was to do it again. But Shizuo understands, tries to understand. And stays with Roppi, it makes him happy- even if he doesn't express it the way normal people do.
Roppi gets jealous, he lashes out. But then, he likes cuddling Shizuo. Likes to hug the man when he comes home from work- home, because Shizuo's apartment is the only way he can be relaxed- likes to kiss the blond and cook dinner; likes to be there when Shizuo is there. Doesn't mind laying on the man's lap; doesn't mind letting Shizuo lay his head on his lap. Roppi enjoys running his hand through Shizuo's hair, sleeping together. Couple things, and it makes him happy. They don't have sex often, Roppi doesn't mind- sometimes. For someone who is always tired, his sexual activity sky rockets at times; and it amuses Shizuo, but it still doesn't get him what he wants. Shizuo is afraid to hurt him, Roppi's fragile. Sometimes he snaps and says he isn't a doll- not weak, but it doesn't help. When Shizuo is feeling generous; and Roppi a bit affectionate it happens and it's great and passionate.
Shizuo helps. Roppi knows his recovery, is long. And he'll fall sometimes, fail. Struggle; and his good days are rare. But Shizuo holds his hand; squeezes it gently and smiles at him- and Roppi smiles back, flushes and stammers a few words because "I'm hungry" even if he isn't. Shizuo chuckles, tugs him closer and kisses the top of his head; assuring that it's okay, things happen and murmurs that "We'll eat soon"- and he knows too, there wouldn't be food to be eaten, maybe going home, tea being made, something to sooth Roppi's nerves and ease into an actual meal; a movie playing and the day going on as if nothing happened.
Which is how Roppi liked it to be.