Addicted. Fucking addicted to him.
I hate Izaya, I hate everything about that shitty flea. I can't stand to breath the same air as him. He's an infection that worms his way into every inch of everything and pollutes it.
He polluted me, and, even though I hate to admit it, I couldn't get enough. I crave to taste that addicting flavor again.
But I fucking hate the flea.
It started in high-school, this unhealthy craving. Started, in fact, on a normal day.
The sky is clear, and from where I lie on the roof, a slight breeze can be felt. Why am I on the roof? Because the air isn't stale up here, and any hint of Izaya is whisked away before I can sense it.
It's peaceful.
But on that particular day, the universe decided to fuck with me, because apparently, a little peace and quiet was just too much to ask. So I guess that's why the damn smoke had to come my way instead of leaving me be.
The smell of a lit cigarette brings me up at once, it's musk reminding me of the streets of Ikebukuro. A casual sniff confirms that, yes indeed, someone's smoking. I'm used to being alone up here, and maybe I've gotten a little too comfortable with the recurring silence. This intrusion into that calm irritates me.
I don't really want to bother with caring about whoever I'm sharing the roof with. It's not like this is my territory, I'm not the animal a certain shitty louse makes me out to be. Really, ignoring whoever it is would be the smartest course of action, even if I'm annoyed. That's what I want to do.
But of course, something makes me go and see who the hell is smoking on the roof of my school, ruining my day with the reek of tobacco like an asshole.
Moments later, when the second stench hits me, a similar something makes me stop and grind my teeth together. Izaya's standing below me looking out into the blue sky that I had been so enjoying up until then. I should have known it would be him, my life has gotten predictable where he's involved.
Because of course it was always the damn flea. And even when I should have been wondering why Izaya wasn't paying more attention to his surroundings, all I could wonder was why the fuck he was smoking? We were underage -not that I cared -and it wasn't like him. What really got to me was the fact that he was in what I had deemed, my space.
So like an idiot, I started a fight.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I growl at the raven, stepping down off the raised portion of the roof I'm on so I'm level with him. It makes it easier to throw Izaya off the roof that way. Another wave of smoke hits me, stinging as it gets in my eyes.
"Tch, Shizu-chan," Izaya chides, turning around to display the cigarette hanging from between his lips, casually pulling nicotine into his lungs like he's smoked all his life. "You don't own this building, nor do you hold any sort of claim on this roof. I'm allowed to be here."
God I want to kill him! The simmering rage is so familiar, so easy to give into, that I almost slip into that frame of mind without a second thought. But I'm curious, curious as to why he's smoking here in the first place, since this is the first time I've seen him here at this time of the day and I've never seen the damn flea with a cigarette before.
My mouth says the first thing that comes to my tongue. "You're underage," I snarl, wincing internally at how stupid the words sound when said aloud. "Why the hell are you smoking?"
Looking back at it, once those words came out of my mouth, I had already lost. Once Izaya gets that teasing smirk in his red eyes, he's in control.
"Shizu-chan, don't tell me you actually care!" He gasps mockingly, red eyes gleaming as he plucks the cigarette from his lips and twirls it between his fingers. As smoke leaks from the corners of his mouth, he giggles and asks, "Are you afraid I'll drop dead from lung cancer?"
"Like hell I am!" I retort, taking a step forward, even though I don't know what I'm going to do if I reach him. This situation should be simple but something's off. What my instincts are telling me doesn't make sense. "It's fucking up the air and I was trying to relax. Put it out!" I demand.
Probably, if I had attacked him then, none of this would have happened, but what did I know? He was pissing me off and I wanted him to stop, but I wasn't sure if I really wanted to throw him off of the roof. Having a conversation hadn't been my idea, it had just happened.
"I don't feel like it." Izaya takes another drag from the cigarette and expels all the smoke out in one big cloud. The breeze carries it towards me, the scent teasing me almost as much as the louse in front of me is. Truthfully, the smell isn't unpleasant, just heavy. There where I don't expect it.
With Izaya's musk weaving in with it, the tobacco infused air takes on an entirely different nature. It's even heavier, more like breathing in water than air. There's a sweet undertone to the sharpness of the cigarette that confuses me, drawing me into it.
And I don't even notice until it's too late that I'm inhaling deeper, trying to catch more of those toxic fumes. Of course Izaya notices, he sees everything, the shitty flea, and he comments because I'm pretty sure he can't help himself. "Addicting, ne?" he teases, lowering his eyelids halfway like he's beckoning me forward. "And here I thought you didn't like it."
My cheeks flare with heat and Izaya's eyes light up with malignant glee at the sight. "I thought you didn't smoke!" I gruffly retort, suddenly wondering if it's too late to just kill him. The goddamn smell is affecting me, making me feel dizzy and just a little off kilter, like the world is tilting towards the flea. It's the smoke, it must be the smoke. The person before me could never make me feel anything but hatred after all.
"Just started, actually." He admits, sucking on the filter thoughtfully. "Not really my thing, ne?" He smirks in my direction and I manage a glare, silently daring him to say or do anything to embarrass me in any way while I'm weak. Izaya's never been able to throw me for a loop like this before. I try to communicate to him without words that if he so much as breathes a word of this to anyone, I will kill him.
Well that was mistake number three because Izaya always liked a challenge and of course he was going to tease me. Daring him not to just made it worse. I still blame the smell of smoke mixed with Izaya drifting over everything. Now, yet another thing I'm addicted to.
"What, do you want to try?" Izaya teasingly waves the cigarette in my direction and I scowl. "You'd look so scary if you smoked Shizu-chan, right out of a Shonen manga." He laughs at the joke like someone who knows they're the only one who finds it funny. I certainly don't laugh. I'm too busy feeling intoxicated by the smoke and by Izaya's teasing looks.
For once, the hatred coursing through my veins doesn't help me. Everything about the situation makes me want to squash Izaya like the bug he is, but I can't. I can't even will myself to move.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I growl, hoping Izaya won't come any closer with that damn cigarette and that fucking smile. But he does, because he hates me as much as I hate him and loves to make my life hell. Too close, too close. My arms finally react and I grab his left arm in a vice like grip, pushing him back but not pushing him away entirely.
And yet another mistake. I should have pushed him away, let go and left, but I fucked that simple plan up too. Not that I had a plan to fuck up at the time, but still.
"But you like it, right Shizu-chan?" Izaya pulls smoke into his lungs and blows out the hot, bitter stream of nicotine directly into my face. As I inhale the secondhand smoke, I can feel the grip I have on his arm loosening. The fucking flea just grins because he knows what he's doing and he knows I hate it and he loves that I can't do anything to stop him.
The stinging, heavy, intoxicating scent invades every inch of me, polluting me.
"No I d-" I start to snap, ready to get out of there before something happens that I'll regret later. Of course Izaya is set on making me regret this moment and nothing I can do will stop him. His delight at bringing me down to such a pathetic state is almost tangible. Even stronger though is his desire to break me. I can see it, feel it, smell it. Then I can taste it as Izaya presses his mouth against my still-open lips and destroys whatever sanity I have left with just a flick of his tongue.
Addicted, I'm instantly addicted. Bitter tobacco, smoky-soft lips and a spicy tongue tangling with mine. I have no fucking clue what the hell is going on, but as the taste of Izaya seasoned with cigarettes floods my senses and drowns me in the single most addicting flavor in the world I realize I don't care.
And believe me, he fucking knew what he was doing.
Izaya darts back, licking his lips as if to catch the lingering taste of me. He looks far too fucking proud of himself at the shambling state he's left me in. "See Shizu-chan," he hisses in delight. "I knew you liked it." Pulling a turquoise blue cigarette carton out of his pocket, he sighs and adds, "Ah, but alas, it's not for me. I don't feel like ruining my lungs for something I don't even like."
He tosses the package my way and I catch it.
"See you around, Shizu-chan."
And then it's like nothing ever happened. He vanishes and reality snaps back into place completely, other than the fact I can't seem to rid myself of that intoxicating flavor that's coating my mind. Fucking flea, what the hell is he trying to pull, I think as I wipe my mouth with the back of my jacket.
The hand that holds the fucking cigarettes is shaking.
Rage boils up and over and with a yell of fury I almost throw the cigarettes over the edge of the roof. But then I stop, and put them in my pocket before slumping to the ground, exhausted.
And after that normal day that turned out so very wrong, I was addicted for life. I hated him, hated everything about Izaya, but that single taste left me craving him forever. So is it any real surprise that I started smoking?
It only took a week before I gave into the desire. I figured that if the taste was anything like Izaya, it would be worth it.
I stare at the cigarette carton hard. I'm going to throw it away this time. If I just get rid of it hopefully the temptation to try one with vanish with them. The fight I had with Izaya earlier scampers through my thoughts and I grind my teeth together. Everytime I see him, without fail, I think of that moment on the roof.
And I want to kill him a little more.
But I also want to taste him again. I can't help but wonder if the cigarettes will make that desire go away because it seriously gets in the way of just killing him. I'm already addicted to the taste, what do I really have to lose?
But it won't be the same. Fuck, I really don't have an easy way out of this one.
Pulling a cigarette from the package, I roll it between my fingers and glare at it like it's going to do something. It doesn't, obviously. The paper crinkles beneath my fingers and a faint yet familiar smell hits me.
The tension in my limbs unknots itself slowly, leaking out of my pores as the smell replaces it. Hands moving without my say so, I reach into my pocket for the lighter I'd picked up and the flame leaps to life. I'm pretty sure it's mocking me, just like the shitty flea. Mocking me for being so weak.
Well I was being fucking weak, giving into Izaya like that. Every time he sees me smoking I'm pretty sure he's thinking about that day on the roof. About how he fucking won.
Lighting the end, I stare at the faint flame as it blows out, leaving the tip of the cigarette smoldering and red. Cherry red like a dangerous sweet. The smell is only getting stronger, invading me like the idea of Izaya. I can practically hear him cackling.
But do I have a choice?
If I do, I'm not sure I'm strong enough to make it.
Slowly, I bring the filter to my lips and inhale.
Instantly I'm hacking and coughing as smoke burns my lungs and throat, making me wonder if I might actually be dying. Glaring at the cigarette once I get my breath back, I almost toss it. How Izaya had managed to smoke one of these like he was a natural was beyond me.
But the smoke smells like that day, and the leftover taste reminds me of Izaya's sharp, biting and talented tongue.
And then I'm taking another drag.
It's not the same, it's missing something. It's missing the one thing that I most wanted to capture again. Izaya, seasoned with cigarette smoke. I growl at the thought of the louse, wishing he was there so I could wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze till I never had to deal with him again.
Unfortunately, there's probably an equal chance of me kissing him for a second time.
So I just take another deep drag and lean against the wall, wishing Izaya would drop off the face of the earth so I wouldn't have to deal with this anymore. Anything so I wouldn't have to admit to myself that I was addicted.
Addicted to my enemy.
Of course, that never happened, I never stopped facing him. He was always there, always pushing, always scheming, always smirking with that fucking look in his eyes like he's imagining hurting me.
And here I am, unable to get away. Unable to quit fighting. Unable to quit him.
Smoking and Izaya.
He got me addicted to both.