Izaya was a very smart person, be even he had to admit that he had not taken the time to think this one through-as smart as he was. He might have thought that this had been a good idea when he had said of it, but it didn't come through just yet.
He wants to be able to do something. He wants to be able to think of all the answers, find a solution, watch it work magic and then sit back and give himself a pat on the back when it worked.
When all the puzzle pieces fell into place and Shizuo was talking and laughing and actually living again, then he could sit back and congratulate himself for all his hard work. Remember all the blood sweat and tears it had taken to get to where they were, and then a hop-skip-and a jump because he did it. Just like he said he would, just like he promised. Promise, promise promise….
But until then, he had to get back to work on operation Shizuo.
He likes to think that he's doing all he can, but in reality he's not doing much of anything at all. He just keeps looking at the blonde like he thinks the longer he stares the more it will change what's in front of him. It's like he thinks that his gaze alone is enough to help. But no, he needs to take action. He likes to think that he's doing all he can, but in truth, that is a lie.
It's the strangest feeling in the world, but he likes to think that he actually cares about what happens to Shizuo. Because a dead brute is not fun to play with, oh no, not at all. It won't do. Certainly not. He'll have to do something about that. But he doesn't know what.
But who is he kidding? A dead brute is no fun to play with, but it's about time he's cut his losses and faced the music and at least tried to deal with the fact that Shizuo was not okay. Because his sole duty to himself at the moment was to make sure that Shizuo would be okay, because that was the only way he could get on with his life.
Izaya is stuck.
Someone has to make a move, and he knows that he won't like it if Shizuo acts first, and he knows that if he says something it will come out wrong and pull them farther in this hole of despair that they were both already drowning in.
So for the time being, Izaya will do nothing, it's a strategy that he's exhausted, but he hopes it will hold out for him as he tries to figure out what to do. But nothing comes to mind. Nothing comes to mind because he doesn't know what to do.
It's now that he actually has Shizuo right where he wants him when his inspiration runs dry and he doesn't know how to move forward now that he has the chance. It's horrible. How do you give someone a reason to live? Izaya is good at a lot of things, he takes pride in his work and abilities, but this is something that he could not do himself; this was a task that was simply much too big for the notorious Orihara Izaya.
All these thoughts and more are swimming through Izaya's head as he regards the man before him. Shizuo had called him but apparently he had fallen back asleep.
Tsk, tsk.
Izaya silently eased himself down onto the bed beside Shizuo's paralyzed legs, deep in thought. His carmine eyes snap up to the blonde's face, but it remained calm with sleep and undisturbed as the bed creaked under his additional weight. He sighed as he took in the blonde's features.
His hair, dulled in the shadow of the dark room, his eyes concealed by a thin layer of skin for an eyelid which held dark shadows under them. He can almost see brooding mocha eyes that once were so lively and proud, not miserable and gloomy as the days dragged on. His lips, once betraying his toothy, blood-thirsty grin that had Izaya's heart pounding a mile a minute, not curved downward forever in a scowl.
His gaze travelled down to his shoulders that once stood so wide and broad atop his chest, now hunched bending under the weight of his burden. His arms once full of strength and moved fluidly with ease as he plucked signs from the ground as if it was natural, which now seem like such a dead weight to move, dragging as he pushed himself around sluggishly.
And his hands; Hands crafted so carefully, each knobby fingers grafter for the sheer purpose of gripping solid metal machines, hands that were calloused and bruised, hands that have seen. Pale blue veins and faded scars ran like an intricate network across the almost translucent skin of the back of his hands.
Delicate, fragile.
Human.
It was hard to reconcile the legendary invincible Heiwajima Shizuo, a man impossible to kill if some of the rumors were to be believed, with this obviously mortal man that lay on the bed before him.
Before he could stop himself, Izaya picked up one of those hands gently, with cool eyes that betray nothing. It is only when he feels his own warmth being sucked into the hand he held that he realizes that Shizuo was cold. Izaya leans forward and tentatively draws up the blankets to cover the man's broad chest fully, holding his breath as he nudges Shizuo's leg as he transitions, and then releasing it when he remembers that those legs wouldn't feel anything anyway.
He loosens his tightened grip on Shizuo's hand in his, allowing the smallest of smirks to decorate his features when the beast does not stir under the addition and then lack of pressure. Izaya's thumb strokes the palm of Shizuo's tough and rugged hands, feeling the pad of his thumb rub of Shizuo's armor. He closes his fingers around Shizuo cautiously as the heat he held warmed Shizuo.
He narrows his eyes, feeling a strange serene feeling come over him, as if this moment were perfect and nothing could ever ruin it, for the time being, that is. He closes his eyes and listens to the music of Shizuo's breathing, in synch with his own. In taking breathe at exactly the same moments.
Inhale. Imagine, enemies such as themselves, living in such harmony, untouched by feuds in the past. Exhale. Untouched for the moment as Izaya concentrated on the feeling of Shizuo's big hand in his and breathing together.
Exhale. It is the simple acts such as these that draw them closer together, that glazes over old wounds with something Izaya would rather have, something he found far more worthwhile than any hate he could harbor.
Izaya does not want to hate this man. He embraces the change; he does not try to deny it.
But alas, like all good things, it does not last.
Shizuo coughs as he awakens, tired eyelids peeling away to reveal hostile chocolate orbs, contrasting the memory that Izaya wanted to hold onto. Shizuo says nothing but does not withdraw his hand, observing Izaya with wary eyes and the informant does not meet his gaze, choosing instead to keep his eyes trained on their hands conjoined, trying desperately to retrieve the moments of tranquility that he had felt before.
"What are you doing?" Shizuo growls grumpily as his eyebrows fall into the same frown that they had lived in for months now.
Izaya's steady calm does not waver, his small yet honest grin still in place as he answers. "What does it look like?" he whispers, unwilling to break the silence that had fallen over the room, like if he spoke too loudly or too soon, he might shatter the careful hush that had muffled them.
"It looks like you're holding my hand."
Izaya's smile grows a fraction of an inch. "Yes." He agrees. The smile is shrinking as the conversation continues; it cannot keep up against such immeasurable odds. The quiet atmosphere that they had created rapidly morphing as his smirk struggled to stay afloat, fighting a battle that not even the former serenity could win against.
His face resumes to the dejected mask that he wore that really wasn't a mask at all, as it came to merge with some of his deeper feelings, it became more of the truth, not just something that he repeatedly tried to deny, like if he crushed it down enough it would eventually go away.
He can't look at Shizuo without feeling disappointed because it wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this because he was supposed to be better and Shizuo was supposed to be super-human.
They both were at fault, and Izaya can't look at Shizuo without remembering that he failed. He failed to keep Shizuo angry and alive inside and now he was paying for it in the form of a man that only wanted to die.
Izaya is torn between the urge to assume the fetal position and hold his head against his knees and watch the world out of the corner of his eyes, and collapse on top of Shizuo's warm chest and spill his guts like he thought it might help him, change something that couldn't be helped. Izaya's not giving up.
The informant lifts Shizuo's hand with his own, holding at the wrist so Shizuo could see the palm of his own hardened hand. "See?" The brunette murmurs, "see this rough, cracked shield? It's made so nothing could hurt you…"
Shizuo tenses like he wants to pull away but Izaya keeps his grip firm as he continues "But I'm not letting you go just yet." Izaya adjusts his hand so his fingers link in Shizuo's. "No… I don't suppose I ever will." He mused.
Shizuo remains silent throughout his talk, and Izaya can feel his eyes burning into him, but he pushes past it. Izaya shifted his gaze to meet Shizuo's eyes; boring into them and watching them turn deeper and darker the longer he stared.
And Izaya smiles, gently, gracing his face with a soft smile of the guardian, the nurturer. "I mean it Shizuo," he continues earnestly, "Please try for me."
Shizuo's blank eyes watch him guardedly. "I don't know what you're going on about." He mumbles.
Izaya sighs, his free hand drawing loops on the bed spread. "For all my worth… I did not see this coming." He admits in a hushed tone. Ripping his gaze away and into one of the darker corners of the room, he resumed trying to sound sincere. "But I hate to see you like this. You're not alone; I'll be with you if no one else will."
"No." Shizuo disagrees, and then adding as an afterthought, "Why are you doing this? All of this, I mean."
"I told you already, and I really hate to repeat myself." Izaya said slowly, fishing for words. He really had no idea where he was going with this. He liked to have his words planned out, but he was improvising this time. Hopefully he wouldn't mess anything up too badly. "I'm going to give you something to life for."
"Why would you even begin to think that I would want to live for you?" Shizuo hissed in outrage, His eyes narrowing. "Our history together has never been particularly pleasant."
"Oh, but I believe we can change that." Izaya hummed, not missing a beat, picking up right where Shizuo left off. His tone was playing on a key that was somewhere between a seductive whisper and a harsh growl. It passes unnoticed by the blonde.
"How?" Shizuo spat, his eyes hollow, on the verge of surrender. He blinked slowly, peering at Izaya through disconsolate honey orbs that Izaya's come to hate.
"I will be there for you," Izaya breathed, the words catching in his throat, but he forced them out anyway. He needed to say this.
Izaya briefly wondered if he was doing the right thing, this wasn't the first time that he had caught himself acting on impulse, and it was because of that urge that he was in a situation like this in the first place. But that didn't matter, he decided right then and there, he had his part to play in solving this puzzle, and he'd be damned if he didn't.
They were both doing all they could, coping in different ways. But Izaya didn't bring them together just to have then live separately, he didn't bring Shizuo into his home in hopes of fixing him only to have his attempts heartlessly rejected.
Maybe this tactic would work, if Izaya could let himself fall into those sturdy arms, blindly without knowing if they would catch him or let him fall, that was the day that they could move forward. If Izaya could get him to open up, then maybe he would be able to understand his motives and close the gap of insecurity and loneliness that had come to be when he was alone. If Izaya could show him friendship… Then maybe, just maybe, their world would have hope for a better tomorrow.
"You don't know me." Shizuo rasped tiredly, "Go away, I want to be alone."
Izaya shook his head immediately, still thinking. He'd have to put his plan into action, as soon as possible is he wanted to get results. "Then I'll be alone with you. We'll be alone together."
Why? Why are you like this?
Izaya squeezed Shizuo's hand gently as he rose. "It's a brand new day Shizuo." Izaya whispered softly. "It's not too late for you."
I won't let you fall.
