title;someone send an sos
pairing(s); izaya/namie
summary; You are merely jealous of society's obvious and apparent love for me.
notes1; ...i wanted to write childish!izaya. i dunno if i failed or not. I'M USED TO WRITING ANGST.

disclaimer; nope. i'm not smart enough to make durarara as cool as it is.

"Namie-san, are you a masochist?"

Said woman twitches a little before shrugging and returning to dusting the room.

He smiles a little, mischief in his eyes, before continuing. "Really, Namie-san. It's not healthy to obsess over little boys, especially ones that are your little bro—"

"Izaya."

He turns toward her in his spinning chair, eyes expecting an annoyed woman, only to find his favorite throw pillow slamming into his face.

"Shut up." She coolly smiles at him for a moment, satisfied with her accurate aim, before getting back to work.

Izaya smirks lazily. "Thank you for the pillow, Namie-san. I am extremely glad to know that you care about my health."

"I don't," she says flatly.

He puts his pillow on his table, messing up the order that his desk previously had. Namie glares at the mess he made.

"Are you so sure about that? After all, you look after me—"

"You pay me."

"—And get angry at me when I mess up things—"

"I don't like to clean."

"—And, you clean me up when I get hurt by Shizu-chan."

"...You do know I'm a doctor, right?"

He sighs mockingly at her. "Namie-san, I do believe you know what I'm implying."

She mirrors his sarcastic sigh. "Izaya, I do believe you are speaking absolute crap."

"Now, now, Namie-san," he says, amusement lacing his words, "You shouldn't say such vulgar language in here. Especially in front of your replacement brother."

He watches as her face turns from confusion to realization to revulsion. "That's disgusting to imply, even for you, Izaya."

"If I am correct, you should be hopelessly in love with me right now, shouldn't you?"

She rolls her eyes. "Where are you going with this? I don't like you. In fact, I hate you. I'm pretty sure majority of Ikebukuro hates you as well."

He smirks at her and strolls to the window, taking in the view of the city's lights. "You are merely jealous of society's obvious and apparent love for me."

He hears her scoff at this. "You're delusional." At this, he smiles cheekily at her.

"Your face is delusional," Izaya replies breezily. He chuckles at her annoyed expression.

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."

"That's too bad, you already did."

"You act like a child. Grow up already, will you?"

He ponders her words for a second. He walks to the couch and lounges on it before flashing his smirk at her.

"No, I don't think I will. I rather like the thought of being twenty-one forever."

She snorts at his reply. "Thought so."

A comfortable silence, broken only by the soft pitter-patter of dusting, settles in the room.

Soon enough, Namie finishes cleaning and starts to gather her stuff.

"You know, Namie-san, I don't think I'll like being your brother."

She raises an eyebrow at him, surprised that he was still carrying this on.

"I don't believe in incest, anyway. I think I'll just settle down in being your husband. It's like the same thing, right? Except we're not related. Huh, Namie-san? Or should I say Namie-chan?"

He laughs as she storms out the door and slams it with a loud bang.

notes2; i may or may not post a second part. it really depends if i'm going to procrastinate on doing my various projects and homework and use writing as a distraction or if i actually take responsibility for once.
notes3; for now, this is a oneshot. i guess.