Miyari considered herself to be a fairly good actress. She had to express emotion while dancing all the time so it wasn't anything new to her. However, Miyari had only performed with experienced actors once in a blue moon. She normally had to force her partners to play a role correctly. She didn't know Izaya well enough to know how he would react.
"Are you ready to go?" Izaya asked.
Miyari had changed back into her ruffled red dress. Izaya wore his favorite black shirt, a fuzzy jacket and jeans.
"Yeah," Miyari offered a gentle smile.
As they made their way down to the lobby, they simply snuggled next to each other. They were gawked and awed at by all who saw them. Izaya kept his grip tight as if Miyari would disappear the second he let go. Miyari simply and occasionally whispered something sappy into Izaya's ear, barely loud enough for others around them to hear and he would chuckle. They reached the lobby and Izaya had to explain to the woman at the counter that Miyari had mistaken his room for her brothers. The woman glared at Miyari and Miyari had to look away sheepishly. Izaya cleared it up with a simple kiss to her forehead and explained that it wasn't her fault. The woman at the counter forgave her. Izaya gently led Miyari to the door and walked down the street towards Miyari's apartment complex.
Her apartment wasn't elegant or large, comparing to the other well-known dancers in the business but it served her purpose; a living space for one person. Izaya gave her a look as they approached. A mob of guys stood around, each and every one of them looking pissed off.
"You're certainly popular," he whispered in her ear.
Miyari snorted.
"The fun hasn't even started," she said roughly.
A young dancer whom she had rejected a year ago spotted her and immediately rushed up to her.
"Miyari!" he shouted at her.
That did it. The herd of testosterone-pumped men turned and surrounded Miyari. Izaya had to struggle to stay by her side. The buzzing of hundred words raised against Miyari's ears, each man trying to bombard her with claims, questions and demands. Miyari took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her hair.
"SHUT UP!" she yelled.
Silence followed and Miyari gave a sigh of relief.
"Can you guys be organized for once in your lives?" she hissed. "I come back home and here you all are. Do you ever think about the fact that I still have a life to get on with?"
"C'mon, Miyari," the bold Kaname stepped out of the crowd. "You know we're all here for you."
Miyari frowned and gave him a killer glare.
"Yes, you're all here for me, but what you want from me is completely different." She ran her fingers through her hair again. "Some of you want to get back together with me. Some of you want to kill me. Some of you want to make me suffer. And some of you just want to have sex and leave."
Izaya was suddenly pressing against her back with his body. His arms had coiled themselves around her waist.
"Aw," he whined aloud. "You figured me out."
All eyes turned to him. Izaya ignored them and shoved his face into the nape of Miyari's neck.
"It's been at least an hour or so," Miyari sighed. "Considering you couldn't keep your hands off of me for one minute."
Izaya kissed her neck roughly.
"You got that right," he said against her skin.
His arms constricted, pulling Miyari harder against his chest. His lips caressed her, bending her to his will. If he wanted her to move her head, he used his lips and the heat in his breath.
"Do you think these gents care if I strip you here?" Izaya asked playfully, a hand already moving towards her dress strap. "Cause you know I really want to."
One ignorant man who had once dated Miyari pulled her out of Izaya's grasp.
"I can't let you do that," he stated coldly.
Izaya grinned.
"It's not like you own her," he smirked.
Miyari stepped on the man's foot with her heels and hit him hard in the gut with a tight elbow. The man dropped to the ground without as much as a struggle. Miyari threw her hair over her shoulder and let out a sigh.
"Don't touch me so lightly," she hissed.
The group of men edged back except for, you got it, Kaname. He walked right up to her and cupped her face in his hands.
"You mean like this?" he asked sweetly.
Miyari's hands immediately clawed at his and she snorted defiantly.
"In one way or another, you belong to every man here," Kaname continued. "You can't just brush us off forever. Evade us all you want but you can never get rid of us. Face it, Miyari. You're just an item on a shelf to be purchased. You have no freedom."
"You're wrong," Miyari choked.
"She belongs specifically to me," Izaya said aggressively.
A fist flew past Miyari's head and hit Kaname right between the eyes. He landed on the ground, knock out cold. Miyari spun around only to have Izaya grab her and give her a rough kiss. When he pulled back, her pushed her tight against his chest.
"Miyari Saruki is my property," he announced loudly. "If you got a problem with that, then you have a problem with Izaya Orihara."
The group went dead quiet and immediately started splitting up, as if the mere mention of his name was death. Izaya looked around then pulled Miyari with him to the complex.
"Where is your place?" he whispered fiercely into her ear.
Miyari let him hold onto her as she led him to her apartment. She fumbled with the keys from inside her bag but eventually opened the door. Before Izaya could walk in, Miyari faced him.
"I appreciate what you did back there," Miyari said boldly. "But I have no intentions letting someone I just met into my house."
Izaya gazed at her, somewhat irritated but with his intense look of interest in his eyes. He drew closer to Miyari, putting his face close to hers.
"You don't think that I should receive payment for helping you out with your little scuffle?" he asked seductively.
Miyari held firm, her eyes hard.
"You helped me of your own accord," she said, no empathy in her voice. "Your hands have been all over me since yesterday. That's your reward."
Miyari started to close the door but Izaya's hand was faster. A smile was pasted on his face.
"Do you do this to all the guys that come over?" he pressed against the door, forcing it open. "You play sweet and innocent until it's inconvenient for you. Then you slam your door shut in their face."
Izaya sneaked his hand to her face, stroking it.
"I told you I'm not like those other guys," he continued.
Miyari pulled her head back and brushed Izaya's hand away with hers.
"Is it the fact that you got to have your hands all over me?" she hissed. "Or the fact you wanted free sex?"
Izaya's eyes lit up, pleasure beaming from his face. He caught Miyari's hand and pushed his way past the door. Miyari struggled to keep him from entering but Izaya had already squirmed through the door and entered the apartment. He pushed the door closed and eyed Miyari.
"Aren't you going to show me around, Miss Saruki?" he smirked.
Miyari frowned and planted her feet solidly on the carpeted floor. Izaya grinned and released her hand.
"You're used to men being pushy aren't you?" he chuckled.
He leaned in for a kiss but Miyari walked away to the kitchen. She opened her fridge and pulled out a carton of milk. She fetched a glass then poured the milk. Izaya lazily walked into the apartment. The smile on his face worried Miyari. She finished her glass of milk then returned the carton to its place in the refrigerator. Her stomach growled for food and she moaned to herself. Irritated now by the fact that Izaya had moved to the counter and had pulled up a chair, Miyari put a pan on the stove and proceeded to make an omelet.
"Is that for me?" Izaya asked sweetly.
"No," Miyari said firmly. "I haven't eaten in over ten hours."
Izaya trilled his fingers on the counter.
"I wonder why," he cooed.
Miyari shook her head, letting her hair fly around her before pulling it back into a high ponytail. Her guest eyed her lustfully. Miyari forced herself to ignored his gaze and work on her omelet. However her omelet died easily in her rusty hands. Omelets weren't her gig. She was used to making light sandwiches and pancakes. It was her fault for thinking that having an American roommate wouldn't be such a bad idea. Now she was obsessed with American food or at least knew how to make a lot of it.
"Is there a reason for your constant staring?" Miyari said, sitting down with her mangled omelet.
Izaya smiled warmly at her. Miyari sighed and plunged her fork into her mouth, taking in the flavor of slightly burnt egg, warm cheese, bacon, onion and pepper. She slid her fork out smoothly, making sure every last bit of the piece of omelet was in her mouth. She chewed for a while when swallowed the warm mush. She let out a soft moan of pleasure. In less than five minutes, the omelet ceased to exist and Miyari had moved to the sink to wash of her plate and load the dishwasher.
"Do you live by yourself, Miyari?" Izaya's voice purred from behind her as she worked.
She glanced over her shoulder for a second. Izaya stood in the kitchen entrance, leaning on the counter. His eyes were full of interest and lust. It sent chills down Miyari's spine; he was scarier than a lot of guys that she had face.
"I'm almost twenty so I recon I ought to by now," she said, shutting the dishwasher and turning it on.
Izaya moved closer, his footsteps growing louder from behind Miyari.
"So you're really young," he mused.
Miyari wiped her hands with a towel as she turned around. Izaya stood inches from her. She pretended not to notice.
"How old did you think I was?" she asked, putting her towel down and leaning back on the sink.
Izaya shrugged playfully.
"Oh, I don't know," he said childishly. "Twenty-one, twenty-two-ish; something around those lines."
"Huh," Miyari lost interest and look across the kitchen at the clock.
It was five past two. Miyari sprung to life, swearing under her breath. She pushed past Izaya and ran into her bedroom. She stripped out of her red dress and threw on a loose skirt and a tank top.
"Ugh, how could I forget about the new recruit?" she hissed.
"Late for work?" Izaya teased as she ran out.
"No," she replied, taking her hair out of its ponytail furiously.
Izaya caught her hand and gently took a section of her hair in his free hand. Miyari froze, eyeing her guest suspiciously. Izaya smiled at her.
"I like it better when it's down," he said in a hushed tone.
His hands somehow snaked around her waist and pulled her into him. His forehead rested on hers.
"I have to go," Miyari hissed fiercely.
Izaya's arms only constricted. Miyari struggled against the pressure of their two bodies. Izaya carefully kissed her forehead, catching her attention. He slowly moved down, kissing her eye then her cheek. He paused above her mouth.
"What are you doing?" Miyari asked, somewhat curious.
Izaya chuckled.
"I'm playing the part of your lover," he jeered.
His lips connected to hers. It was different from all the other kisses. As soon as they connected he was alive. He moved with her movements and pressed as close as he could to her. Miyari slid her arms up Izaya's chest and around his neck, adding depth to his passionate kiss. A moment flew by and Izaya pulled back.
"I need to go," Miyari whispered.
"What if I don't let you go?" Izaya replied forcefully.
Miyari kissed him and grinned slyly.
"I'll make you," she smirked.
Izaya returned her smile and released her. Miyari grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the apartment. She paused for a moment to put on a pair of boots. She could feel his eyes on her as she locked the door and turned away. He caught her again easily in his arms and kissed her roughly.
"I'll see you again," he whispered against her lips. "And you'll wish you I never did."
He dropped her complete and waltzed off. As Miyari ran past him towards the dance studio, she could hear him mumbled to himself as if pleased with his work.