Flame
The only word to describe it was a flame. A hot and scorching flame that burned his insides and made him feel rabid with rage. It was a flame that no matter how many buckets or pails the world provided for his disposal would never die down. It didn't start this way. It grew. From a spark, to a cinder, the flame that unmistakably made up multiple percentages of Heiwajima Shizuo's being was created all from one, irrefutable source.
Orihara Izaya.
The stare was the friction, the smirk brought about the kindling, and the manipulations became the starter fuel. There was no escaping it. The fire embraced him with a bear-like grip, smothering him and limiting his oxygen intake. To call such a ferocious mental state "healthy" is ludicrous. It makes a person ill and unstable. After all, wrath is a sin, a deadly one at that. But for Shizuo, it wasn't his anger that slowed his determination. No, it was exactly what drove him forward, giving him push after push to reach his goal.
Killing that flea wasn't an option. It was a necessity. And the clock was ticking, for there is no such thing as a fire that isn't ever in danger of burning out.
Hello! Chappy again!
I didn't realize just how short this looked until it was in the works of being published...the story itself is only two-hundred and nine words. I'm sorry! D:
Today is supposed to be Day 6: Flame. I kind of went with a metaphorical, almost poetic approach for this drabble. I hope you enjoyed it! :D
- Chappy