I'm so sorry Seiji, but I won't make it back home today. Izaya is making me stay. Much love, your sis.
She flipped her cellphone shut frustratedly and waited for her employer to finish taking a shower. Maybe she should have told him that it would have been a lot better for his head if he went straight to bed, but she figured that a little pain might just teach him a lesson.
She had to admit that sometimes his attitude amused her just slightly. And his intelligence both intersted and intimidated her. But that didn't change anything about the fact that she very much disliked him. The only think acceptable about him was that knew what he was doing most of the time, she had to give him that, and sometimes his plans were too convoluted even for her to understand.
Still, the childishly innocent facade he hid behind to make people understimate him and his natural charm which he manipulated so many with were just sickening. Not that she hadn't fallen for his flirty attitude and ambiguous propositions once or twice...or a couple of more times than that.
Her phone vibrated, breaking her train of thoughts.
Don't worry, I can understand if you want to spend the night with your boyfriend. I'd never get in the way of love. Seiji.
She almost crushed the phone between her fingers as she held it tightly, her hand trembling with anger.
He's NOT my boyfriend, I just work for him—She stopped, realizing that no matter what she wrote, it would sound like she was Izaya's personal whore.
Some time ago Izaya had told her that Seiji was much more likely to develop any kind of interest in her, if she didn't cater to his every whim and acted as if there was someone more important to her than him.
If he felt like he wasn't the most important person in her life anymore he might start to miss having her around all the time and start to fight for her attention and affection, at least according to the informant. And consequently, he had manipulated her into sleeping with him with those words.
With his strange advice still in mind she decided not to answer Seiji's text message and to act as if she hadn't even noticed it in case he asked tomorrow morning.
Feeling almost like a child caught stealing candy, she looked up when the bathroom door opened to reveal the informant, hair still wet, already wearing what appeared to be his sleeping attire.
She raised a delicate, dark brown eyebrow at the oversized gray hoody covering his upper body only serving to emphasize how slim he really was. The black shorts hung low on his narrow hips looking ready to just fall off, and she tried not to think about whether he was wearing underwear beneath those.
"You wear socks to sleep?" she asked, not because she was curious but because she wanted him to realize just how odd his choice of clothing was. Then again, she wouldn't have been surprised if a guy like him slept in the nude.
"I get cold easily." He said, looking down at his white socks while one of his hands untangled his wet, dark hair. It was actually the fact that the socks covered the red and blue bruises on his ankles that had made him decide to wear them, but the lie was barely noticeable when told by a talented liar like him. And he really did get cold easily.
"Well, I'm going to sleep." He announced, strolling towards his bedroom.
"I'll come wake you up in two hours!" she warned and he simply waved his hand as a sign that he had heard her.
The door closed behind him and he was encased in silence that both relaxed him and made his heart flutter with uncertainty. With slow steps he approached his bed, his room glowing with the light of the city all around him.
His back hurt in a bittersweet way as his muscles relaxed upon lying down which only served to remind him of how much he needed a good night's sleep.
Curling up on his side, he let his eyes drift closed, breathing in the smell of detergent and shampoo coming from his pillow which calmed him and soothed his pounding head with its freshness.
Just as he was about to drift into sleep, the phone on the desk next to his bed began to vibrate. It startled him back into awareness as if someone had spilled cold water onto his face.
Blindy, he fumbled for the device with every intention of turning it off without reading the message, but curiousity got the better of him.
I hope I didn't ask too much of you the last couple of days. I will contact you when I need your services again. Shiki.
Izaya hated the way his heart skipped a beat before speeding up dramatically. The message was insulting and didn't sound like Shiki was at all concerned, but Izaya knew that the fact that Shiki had contacted him at all showed that he, to some degree, cared.
It also served to remind Izaya of Shiki's inescapable presence and the familiar urge to run, run far away and hide made his legs tingle while Izaya frowned sulkily, feeling betrayed by his cowardice getting the better of him.
With a stern press of his left index finger he switched the phone off and put it back onto the desk quickly, as if it was going to poison him if he held it in his hand any longer.
Then he turned back onto his side and closed his eyes, trying to keep his breathing steady and deep as he forced himself to give in to the shadows dancing behind his closed eyelids.
When Namie woke him a couple of hours later he was ripped out of a nightmare consisting of nothing but the feeling of being unable to move, unable to defend himself. Completely without control.