Chapter 1.
"Don't let go," I beg, staring up in his eyes. "Please."
The other male looks down at me, curling his lip. "I've never liked you, Orihara."
"B-But, if you do this," I gasp slightly, not really feeling this kind of desperation before, "I'll die! This is really .. really far up, Shizu-Chan."
His nose wrinkles. "I don't give a fuck," he spits, "You'll be dead. Everyone's lives would be better."
"Shinra and Celty will be upset with you!" I try to threaten, but know it's true. They'd mourn for maybe a week or two and attend to a party that's celebrates my death.
Shizuo chuckles lightly. "Yeah, right. They'll thank me, if anything."
"You can be thrown in jail," I try again, staring up at the man. My ruby eyes must be tearing up; I can feel them sting.
He scoffs, "Been there before. Besides, who's gonna care if you die?"
And he leaves those words in the air, as I grip onto his wrist in a death lock. We're on a roof of a tall, tall building. I don't know how high it is, dammit.
How much truth and honesty that sentence had; no one would care. Not even my sisters. Maybe Shiki would care, but, then again, he's an emotionless man. He'll get a better informant.
"Gonna say anything, flea?" the strongest man in Ikebukuro asks, loosening his grip. I panic.
"Don't drop me!" I yell, tears finally shoving their way in appearance. Tears stream down my cheeks as I hold onto him; my palms are getting sweaty, making me loosen my hold. I don't want to die, oh lord.
How'd I get here? How did I start begging to live, even though I never truly cared about my own exsistence?
Well, let me tell you.
It isn't pretty.
A/N: Gahhh! This surprisingly took forever, despite how short this chapter is. I couldn't decide if I should start with the beginning or end.
You can guess which I chose (Although it's kind of obvious).
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Have a great day and/or night.