||It rains when you're here, and it rains when you're gone, 'cause I was there when you said forever and always||

It was Tuesday night, and you were hanging out at your boyfriend's – Izaya's – apartment. Not doing much, mind you. Not that Izaya minded. But you admit, when Izaya asked you if you wanted to come over and visit him, you thought you would maybe get a meal, talk to his little sisters, maybe get a kiss – not help him stalk people. Definitely not.

"H-hey… Izaya-kun…?" You ask, fingers hesitating above a pile of money that Izaya had asked you to count. ((You silently gape at the mountain of bills on the table.))

"What?" he replies absent-mindedly. You pout. He didn't even look up.

"Do you want to take a break?" you try to layer as much seductiveness in your voice as possible.

"Not really." His voice is a monotone. You walk over to him in his chair and wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in his raven hair.

"Izaya… please?" You press your lips against his neck. Izaya turns his piercing red gaze to you, and you recoil a little, afraid of his anger. His eyes soften.

"Didn't come here to work, huh? I figured you'd snap eventually," Izaya snickers. You sigh. You've pretty much gotten used to him playing with you, but that didn't mean that you enjoyed it.

"Well…," you stall, "I came here to spend time with you. Which I guess I'm doing. But…."

"Hey, I get it," Izaya mutters, pulling you into his lap. You yelp and blush as you lean back against him, feeling his chest against your back. You turn your head back to look at him, and as the two of you lock eyes, you feel something in you click. You want to spend the rest of your life with this man. That's all you know.

"I love you," you whisper to him.

Izaya pulls your face closer, and when your foreheads are touching and lips are oh-so-close, he breathes, "I love you, too. Forever…."

"…And always," you finish. Then your lips meet. And it feels so much like heaven.

A month later, you send a text to Izaya. 'I'm going to be out of Ikebukuro this month reporting on possible Olympic athletes for Japan. I'll be trailing Terajima Hideyoshi, the swimmer.'

'Really? Good luck. Sounds fun. Get some juicy information for me. It might come in handy someday.'

'I'm a journalist, not an informant's dog.' You sassily text back.

'Oh? I beg to differ.' You could almost hear the sarcasm in his text. And - you'd never admit this to anyone - it made this relationship so much more exciting.

'Ugh whatever, just don't forget to call, okay? Every day.' You always lose arguments against Izaya, so you just learned to give up early.

'Sure, sure.'

Twenty-five days later – your twenty-fifth day of trailing Terajima – you sit in your hotel room, staring at your phone. Just staring. Four days had passed, and he hadn't even called once. It was a major downer. No texts, no calls – no contact. At all. The silence cuts you to the core, nestling into all the little crevices of your heart and pulling out the doubts. You never thought yourself to be that smooth. Was I out of line? Did I say something that was way to honest? A million questions zip through your mind as you listen to the pouring rain outside. You shake your head – he just must be REALLY busy. SUPER busy. MAJOR busy. Busy enough to not keep any contact.

You finally get home after an exhausting month, putting off the actual writing of your article for later. Because procrastination is the devil. So tempting. So you just give in.

There's a knock on your apartment door.

"Coming!" you yell. You open the door to face Izaya. Half of you desperately wants to jump into his arms, breathe in his scent, claim him as yours. But half of you is so broken, so hurt, that he didn't contact you for that whole month.

"(y/n)-chan," Izaya breathes, as if nothing is wrong. You know he can see the indecisiveness on your face.

"It's raining today again," you observe, trying to make small talk. You didn't feel as close to him anymore. It was almost as if that Tuesday night oh-so-long ago when both of you promised "forever and always" never happened. "Why didn't you call?" You decide to get right to the point.

"I was busy," he deadpans.

"For the whole month?!"

"Aw, (y/n)-chan, did you miss me?" Izaya teases. It doesn't feel natural to you anymore. You feel so low that you can't feel anything at all. There's an awkward silence. "Just wanted to see if you were back yet," Izaya laughs and ambles to the door. Just as he was halfway out the door, you can feel your emotions overflowing out of your eyes.

"Izaya." He stops, but doesn't turn around. "Tell me, what happened? You never called… I waited every night, staring at the phone, but nothing! Were you just kidding when you told me you loved me? Where is this going now? Come back and tell me – did you forget everything? Did you mean what you said to me that night?" Now that you started, you couldn't stop. You just needed to get all your worries, everything that hurt you, off your chest.

"…" Izaya doesn't respond.

"Hahhhhh," you let out a breath. "I guess I knew in the back of my mind… that I was just your toy."

"(y/n)-chan." He still hasn't turned around, but he sounds completely serious. What was strangely out of character. "I told you what I felt once. Don't make me say it again. I'll admit… you are my toy. You're so fun to play with; your reactions are so interesting. But that doesn't mean that… I don't feel anything for you. You're my favorite piece on the game board." He takes a deep breath. "Meet me at Russian Sushi tomorrow at 12:00 PM when you've calmed down, okay?"

You blink tears out of your shining (e/c) eyes as he finishes walking out the door, shutting it gently behind him. After pondering for the whole night, you decide to go.

You walk toward Russian Sushi with a hesitant smile, seeing Izaya already waiting for you.

His favorite game piece, huh. Well, I guess that I can deal with that role; after all, I am Izaya's girlfriend. The God's girlfriend.