Author's Note: Hello, hello! I know I said this would be up on Thursday, but I got a review that kind of upset me a little so I haven't really felt like writing much lately.

To the reviewer in question, I know I can't please everyone, but your review really did upset me. My writing style is just how I write, I'm sorry that you don't like it. I appreciate you telling me your thoughts, and there are some parts of earlier chapters that I would like to improve, but this story isn't over yet, we'll see what happens I guess. So thank you for your review, but if you leave reviews for other authors in future, please remember that being blunt like that will not make them feel very good about themselves.

To everyone else, this probably won't end up at chapter 60 now. We'll see~. Just a short one today, still not really back in the mood for writing but I felt so guilty leaving you all without an update. Hope you enjoy it anyway.

"I should probably go then," Shizuo coughed out, hovering awkwardly by the door. What was he supposed to do now? He wouldn't have known what to do with just some other man, let alone Izaya, let alone someone he used to hate, was born to hate. What did he do then?

Izaya was still sat at his desk, though he had moved shortly before in order to switch the crinkled white shirt for his own clothes so that Shizuo could leave. The blonde had hoped that it wouldn't be too ruffled for anyone else to notice, but the way that it creased down the front and lingered with the scent of the raven across the room left him with little hope that Tom wouldn't notice. The raven headed man in question looked up at those words, now dressed in one of those black shirts that dipped down over his collar bone to reveal a slither of skin.

"I suppose you should," He hummed out in reply, lacing his fingers together and allowing his chin to rest almost thoughtfully on them, like some kind of little chin rest, a little ledge that allowed his head to perch. "It's been fun, Shizu-chan,"

Shizuo half scoffed, half laughed in return but didn't reply. His hand closed around the door handle, turning it down and hearing it click open. What was he supposed to say anyway? This was all still so out of his comfort zone, still something that he didn't understand or know what he was supposed to deal with. Maybe it would never be comfortable; maybe it was never supposed to be. Maybe this was always supposed to feel slightly wrong, slightly crazy, and slightly monstrous. They still hadn't really spoken about what happened next. They still hadn't really talked about feelings or sex or just what the hell was going on. Maybe that was what was meant to happen, maybe that was a good thing, and maybe it didn't matter. He didn't know, he just didn't. He'd said he'd given up, but what had that even meant? Given up hating the louse, given up trying to understand what was going on, given up fighting that burning heat that seemed to pool in his stomach whenever the flea came too close these days, which one was it?

The blonde still hadn't spoken, still hadn't replied, made a noise other than that little half laugh he had just done. Izaya hadn't said anything else either, but was still just fixing him with that same cocky smirk just like he always did. There was just silence stretching, something with seemed more and more natural for them these days. It was ironic that could be so when in the past they had been nothing but loud, when their world had been filled with shouting and yelling and screaming, laughing, poking insults at the other, when their relationship had been violent and dark and mixed with the sounds of crashing objects and metal and whatever else that collided around them.

Shizuo turned then, his hand still curled around the door handle, this time pulling it open to allow him to leave. The door didn't so much as squeak when Shizuo pulled it open, not like his door, back home in Ikebukuro, that door with the fading letters and the un-oiled hinges. He was just staring back at the louse, and that louse was just staring back at him, as he moved, as Izaya sat, as if this were the most natural thing in the world, as if Shizuo wasn't feeling that uncertainty at his own actions creeping into him, as if Izaya didn't have that look in his eyes that always promised things he wouldn't like, as if all of this unnatural behaviour didn't suddenly seem like it was so right, so meant to be.

"Yeah," Shizuo finally huffed out, if only just to say something, if only just to break that silence and prompt Izaya to speak again. That silence, it was some comfortable, so awkward, he didn't know. This was all so different, so out of his range, and yet this seemed to be where the two of them had been heading all along, spiralling towards one tossed insult and email at a time. Funny that, really, so funny.

Ha, ha, ha.

Shizuo turned on his heel, effectively breaking that connection the two of them seemed to have picked up, that solid eye contact, turning, turning, turning and heading out of the door. Izaya let a little laugh ghost out of his mouth when he was greeted with the wide expanse of the blonde's back, raising his hand in a little half wave that the monster wouldn't see when he headed out without another word and the door closed shut behind him. He really hadn't the heart to tell Shizuo about just how crinkled that damn shirt was. It was funny, really. Really, it was.