Sorry for the mishap with the translation. So sorry! ;A; Here is what we managed to write up while I was at con. I lost my badge, so I didn't attend the rave and had time to write xDD
Shizuo left the salon feeling renewed. He ran his fingers through his newly dyed hair, and smiled a bit. It was time for a change.
He slipped off his blue shades and slipped them into his pocket. Sliding his hands into his pockets, he glanced around a bit and watched as people walked by him. It was weird, having no one glance at you with frightened or wary eyes.
It was nice.
For once, he didn't feel like an outcast; Someone to be afraid of, or someone to avoid. He was just another guy on the street. Another average citizen of the city with no reputation to uphold.
With a contented smile, the ex-blonde took a deep breathe of air. Not even a tickle plagued him as the scents of the city enveloped him.
The delicious smell emanating from the restaurants.
The soft scent of the perfumes and cologne's that lingered as business men and women walked past.
The bitter and soothing scent of ciga-
…Shit.
Shizuo reflexively covered his mouth and nose, as the scent slowly worked it's way into his system. He backed up, eyes flicking about as he tried to trace the scent.
Ahh! There! A man was smoking at the street corner, and the direction of the wind was blowing it toward Shizuo's direction.
His mouth started to salivate, and his throat closed up with need. He coughed to clear his throat, but only felt more drawn toward the scent.
He took a tentative step.
After all, the flea wasn't near him. Hell, he didn't look the same as before. He could probably ask the stranger if he had an extra…
NO!
Shaking his head, he forced himself to turn away, breaking into a sprint. He had to get away. Had to find something else to focus on. But with the familiar and comforting smell still lingering in his nose, his cravings were slowly growing. His fingers twitched slightly at the thought of flicking the lighter. Of holding the stick between his fingers. The texture of the cigarette as he rolled it between his finger tips. The action of bringing it up to his lips…
"God dammit!" He yelled, angry for letting his thoughts sink so far down. Shit, he never thought that this whole quitting thing would be so hard! Now it was all he could think of! He couldn't get a grip on his own thoughts!
He stopped running as he lost his breath, leaning against a shop's wall as he tried to breathe regularly again. Head leaning against the brick wall, he tiredly peered up at the shop sign.
His eyes widened when he realized where he was.
"Fuck! No!" he yelled as he pushed himself away from the wall as if it would give him the plague. He had subconsciously run toward the tobacco shop.
Racing as fast as he could without sparking a coughing spell, he fled from the shop, and headed toward his apartment. He shoved people out of the way, and took short cuts and back alleys. Anything is took to just get home, into a smoking free environment.
He chuckled a bit at the thought. His home as a smoking free environment. He never thought he would say that.
After a ten minute run, burning lungs, and aching legs, Shizuo stumbled into his apartment and collapsed onto the sofa. He groaned as the craving continued to slowly get stronger. He suddenly could smell the nicotine and tobacco in every corner of his house. It lingered in the walls, in the cushions, in his clothes. He couldn't seem to get away from that addictive scent.
He dragged his palms over his face, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. He remembered Shinra saying something vaguely about trying to ignore the craving. But damn, how the hell were you supposed to do that when it was so fucking hard to ignore it!
Shizuo rolled off his couch, falling heavily onto the floor so he lied on his back and stared at the ceiling. That ceiling that mocked him; told him that he wasn't strong enough to fight back this disease and this craving. Despite his physical strength, his mental will power was nothing.
Huffing, he rolled onto his stomach and buried his head into his crossed arms. Closing his eyes, he begged to some higher power to just let him sleep. He could get through this if he could just sleep.