"Izaya..."`
...
"Yo, Izaya"
...
"Oi, flea, get up"
...
The pesky brunnet kept ignoring me, and layed still on the cold pavemet ground. I nudged his limp body with the toe of my shoe but again he gave no response.
I began to get ticked off and stooped down to his level, cigrarrete loosely dangly from my mouth.
"Fucking answer me flea!" I growled annoyed, gripping one of his shoulders tightly, shaking him. His body simply moved with no protest to my hand, the raven haired bangs being shook to cover his eyes.
"FLEA."
I reached roughly down grabbing his jaw, to make him look at me and finally respond, but I instantly let go, dropping it back to the ground with a grimancing thud.
Cold.
Limp.
Lifeless.
His skin... I blinked in surprise. It was so cold.. Why the fuck was the flea that cold?..
My irritation had completley faded away, leaving me with nothing but curosity nipping at my skin.
"Izaya..." I called his name out to his deaf ears once more, slowly laying a hand against his cheek. The creamy white skin was so very cold and it only made me wonder exactly why was it that cold in the first place?
Was he out in the rain too long?
Is the pavement cold? Did laying on the pavement for too long make him cold?
He has his jacket on, yet no body heat seems to be left in his system. Like no blood was pulsing through his veins...
I reached out for one of his hands, my mind gone blank. He felt so frozen, and limp.
I entangled his hand with mine, rubbing his gently with my thumb, hoping to get some warmth coursing through him again. I had no idea why the flea wasn't moving or responding to anything, it made my head feel at lost and empty. I mean fuck, just get up already, I can't fucking kill you if you aren't acting ali-...alive...if you aren't acting alive...if you aren't...
He's dead?
The sudden realization shot through me I was surprised I didn't fall onto my back.
He can't be dead.
He's Orihara Izaya.
The flea.
My greatest enemy.
The one who I've been chasing after since I first met him.
The one I can't catch.
The only one who is able to go up against me.
He doesn't die.
He wont die.
He can't die.
...
But he's dead.
I stare down at the lifeless hand I'm still holding letting my eyes trail back up to his face.
His mouth his slighlty parted open, and his hair is covering his closed eyelids.
Slowly, cautiously, as if I'm unsure as to what exactly I'm doing, I sit down on my knees and grab his head, laying it on my lap without unlocking my grip of his hand. Without my command, my fingers brush against the bangs uncovering his eyes. The smooth cold skin nips at my finger tips, the cold feeling uninviting.
My stomach churns at the thought of how he must feel, body completley stripped of his warmth, and scoop him onto my lap.
His head lays against my shoulder, limbs just laying there against my chest as if they have no cause. I encircle my arms around him, hugging him tightly to my chest hopping to give him some of my warmth.
Rubbing his back gently I lean my head against his and close my eyes.
This isn't the flea. This isn't who I've spent countless hours chasing around the city screaming death threats and hurling vending machines at. This isn't the person who's seemed to waste day after day planning on how he'll ruin my life. This isn't Orihara Izaya. This isn't the person who is contstantly smirking and has an insulting comeback to everything I say. This isn't the man who's crushed so many peoples hearts and dreams, playing with them as if they were nothing but toys. This isn't the one who can endlessy tick me off with just a smirk. This isn't the information broker who knows everything about everyone.
This isn't him.
This is not Orihara Izaya.
This can't be him.
It cannot be him.
Izaya is full of life and energy and excitement. He would never let me get a single touch on him. He would never be in the same space as me for more than 20 minutes without running. He would have flicked out his stupid knife by now and made an attempt to slice me in half. He wouldn't just lay here on the ground...dead... This can't be him.
My mind feels numb, I'm not sure what to think at the moment, my thoughts rapidly trying to proccess themsleves out.
I pull away from him to get a look at his face, and I finally let go of his hand, using the one that held onto it so tightly to run a thumb on his cheek.
My arm brushes against his fur trim coat, the coat he wears every single day, the coat that belongs to him and only him.
I feel my body shake and I realize just how cold I am. Is it working? Is he stealing my heat from me to warm his own self up? I move my hand up under his shirt only to be greated with cold, hardness.
I need to go now..
One part of my mind whispers to me.
NO. Fuck off! I'm not leaving. I don't want to leave. Not until this flea is in a condition to be killed again.
Another side of my mind protest back. I don't want to go, as to why I don't know, I just feel like I have to stay here and hold this tiny limp man and I'll regret it if I leave.
I need to go... I need to go... I need to go right now before something bad happens.
Although one part of me wants to stay the other part just wants to run, run fast, and get away from the flea as soon as possible, leaving behind not only him but all the thoughts and feelings I have creeping up on me.
...
...
...
Numbly, my arms begin to shake.
I can't decipher one feeling from another, all my thoughts jumbled up and confused.
I feel something sudden leap into my chest, pounding hard against it until falling into my stomach curling up, making my palms feel sweaty and my arms weak. Is this emotion joy? Yes it must be.. Unconciously I smile. It has to be joy. The flea is dead, he's finally dead, finally gone, ridden off this earth.
I look down at him in my arms, the feeling hits against my chest harder.
I'm so happy it hurts.
I snicker dropping his body against the pavement standing up.
Serves you right flea, you're finally fucking dead, who would have thought this day would ever come?
I continue staring down at him, thinking to myself although I know he'll never hear.
You're such a smug little bastard, I'm glad you're finally gone. There wont be anyone to piss me off and ruin my day anymore, I wont have to waste anytime chasing you out of my damn city. Stupid flea. Bastard. Louse. Dickhead. I'm so fucking happy that you're dead!
I force this thoughts into my mind, although hatred doesn't spring into my chest like it usually does, blurring up my image as well as my mind. Instead, those other emotions keep bitng at my heart, making it pound harder and harder against my chest.
Its joy, its happiness, relief, satisfaction, so so so much happiness.
These are the things I'm feeling, now that the flea is dead, and his burdince has been lifted off my shoulders.
But...
Why...
He's been lifted off my shoulders... So why do I have the most heavy feeling dragging down my gut? I just must not be use to feeling so delighted. Since its such a new feeling I just don't know how to respond to it. So I respond to it like I would any other happy situation,
as I give the dead body one more glance before turning away walking in the opposite direction to my apartment I smile.
Its a forced smile, so very forced but it still symbolizes my happiness. So much happiness..
The sky in Ikebukoro is gray and dark as night time fall, covering the city.
I silently laugh aloud, the noise sounds strained and pathetic at first but slowly it turns louder, more sickened, filled with all of my happiness and relief at the moment. This is what I'm suppose to do! Laughing will help me get some of this happiness off my chest! And I'll be able to savor and enjoy the rest of it!
Yes!
I look forward into the city as I walk, the forced laughing sounding foreign to my ears.
My mind is still buzzed with numbess, the sound continuing and contiuning, desperate to get some of this beloved happiness off my chest.
A few hot tears forcefully stream out of my eyes as I contiue with the broken laugh. I hold the rest back not wanting them.
I'm so happy I'm crying. My body is doing everything it can to let some of this happiness out. The happiness that is gnawing and chewing at my gut trying to eat its way out.
The laughing dies down to small pathetic chuckles and I'm left with a slightly damp face.
The flea is finally dead.
I'm so so so so so so so happy.
(((JUST INCASE SOMEONE IS STUPID OUT THERE AND DOES NOT KNOW THIS, I DO NOT OWN DURARARA OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS IN IT. DISCLAIMERRR~~. Sorry... I just don't want to get sued or anything .-.)))))