This is my first fanfic. It's not very good. :L
Disclaimer: I do not own Durarara! Sadly.
I collapsed onto the sofa, my eyes half lidded. I was hungry, starving even. My last filling meal had been exactly two days ago, and I had not had a bite to eat since. Well, I had had the occasional snack (an apple and two rolls of sushi, courtesy of Simon) but nothing substantial. And it was wholly Izaya Orihara's fault. If he had just died that night, I would have been feasting at this very moment. But no, he had simply shooed me away and I had left, humiliated. The Yazuka boss had not been pleased, and after a lengthy warning (abound in subliminal death threats), I had scurried back here, to my apartment.
My apartment is small and simple. Living in Ikebukuro, it was probably the least expensive accommodation available. But my apartment, I found, was an adequate living arrangement. I only returned to sleep, bathe and prepare for my next assignment. So there was no need for any fancy appliances like wide screen TVs and video game consoles. I did, however, furnish it with the most basic of necessities.
Bored, I turned on the small television and stood up, leaving it on as I ventured into the kitchen. My stomach growled and I whimpered, as I aimlessly looked through the empty cupboards. I hated being hungry. After a few minutes, I gave up and sat down dejectedly at the counter. I bought everything I needed with the money I earned from my kills. And since I had failed miserably this week (in killing Orihara), I had no pay and thus, no food. Exhaling, I found myself pondering why I had chosen this particular career path. It wasn't as if it was legal. But I had always been a strange girl, even back in middle school. The one with the uncanny interest in death and most things morbid. My friends had even been voted 'most likely to dominate the world' as a joke. I had taken this somewhat seriously at the time, but I had given up on that dream. It was not 'realistic'.
My thoughts were interrupted as the doorbell rang. Being a 'kill first, think later' type of person, I got up to open the door without a moment's thought as to WHO it could be.
"Hello?"
"So this is where you live~?"
"What the hell?"
I found myself staring at Izaya Orihara, the man I had been sent to kill but had being shooed away by two nights ago.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I repeated, rather irritated that he had the nerve to show up. Damn, I left my dagger in the kitchen… I watched Izaya, who was peering over my shoulder (he was, amazingly, taller than I was). He pushed past me, ignoring my protests and walked inside.
"It's small."
No kidding genius, I thought with annoyance as I closed the door behind me. I observed as Izaya took in every little detail of my apartments interior. He was actually rather handsome, with his jet black hair and dark eyes that glinted wickedly with a twisted sense of amusement. I particularly adored his jacket (I am a girl, after all, despite my tendencies to go around killing people).
"Would you like some coffee?" I asked, in a 'what the hell are you doing here' tone of voice.
Izaya just turned around and gave me a wide smile before walking up to me.
"I came to gather information on you." He said it in a serious tone, which I could not help but be attracted to. Damn him.
"That's nice." I pointed my dagger at him (I had picked it up when he was 'gathering information'). "Now get out." Unfazed by the blade, Izaya laughed and walked past me to the door. "Humans are so amusing! Especially you." Izaya opened the door. "I'll be seeing you now, Shi-chan." He left before I could swear my head off at him.
I stared at the open door before sighing and closing it. Izaya Orihara, huh? What a weirdo.