So sorry this is late! This chapter was VERY hard for me to write. As you know, I tend to write Izaya more than Shizuo. So getting into his head was extremely difficult. Another big big thank you to my beta for helping me get through this!

Silence.

Bleak, unforgiving silence. He stared dumbfounded at the closed door. Frozen in his spot, numb from head to toe. The informant's cold, cruel knife could not have done more damage than the words that echoed in his head; control seemed to have slipped away, and yet the tension in his body tightened, coiled deep inside him, bubbled up and threatened to overflow.

It was at that moment that Shizuo reached out, ripping the door open and practically tearing it from its hinges before he realized he was still naked. With a choked growl, he rushed back inside, threw on some clothes and a jacket, and sprinted from his apartment.

Dammit, fuck, no no no, fucking...

This wasn't happening. Not if he could help it — If Izaya thought he could just walk away after saying those things…after what had happened… then he was just as crazy as he'd thought from the first moment they'd met. Completely mental.

It didn't matter what direction the informant had run off to. Shizuo just kept dashing in any direction he thought the louse would take. The blonde trudged through the snow and slush, shivering as the snow soaked and froze his bare feet. He panted, looking around frantically for the familiar mop of black hair, or the once annoying flash of tan fur. Anything…anything!

Time seemed to slow. The sun crept leisurely across the sky, doing nothing to break away the cold that attacked the blonde's body. No matter how hard he searched in every store and alley, the raven had seemed to vanish into thin air, fading away like a dream slipping through his grasp.

Gasping for a breath, even though his chest refused to suck in any more of the frigid air, he leaned against a near by trash can. It was useless…trying to find the flea. Izaya had already made his way deep into the city, hiding and slipping his way through the cracks until he was safe. There was no way Shizuo would find him now.

Shizuo looked up at the cloudy sky, scowling. It couldn't have been any later than noon, but the cloud cover made it seem like it was late in the evening. It seemed to mock him, settling heavily over his heart.

He had circled the main center of the city, and made it back around to where he started. He looked at his apartment complex down the street. It seemed to radiate depression and hurt…but it was the only place he could go.

He dragged himself back, his feet burning and aching with every step. He knew he was getting frostbite That if he didn't get home soon, he'd be in serious trouble. So he moved faster, ignoring the shooting pain in his feet, legs, and chest. Ignored the pain in his heart as the weight of Izaya's words continued to soak into him, and the flood of emotions washed over him with every passing second.

By the time he got back to his apartment, he had resorted to trying to pick himself up by repeating positive things. He told himself that he didn't need Izaya to be happy. He didn't need his money, or his company. He could get through his illness on his own. For a moment, he thought that it could be possible, to brush off the flea like he had in the past.

But this was nothing like their past. This was far worse. In the past, there was a mutual hate. This time, there was an emotion far more fragile at stake.

And as he thought more and more about how Izaya took that and crushed it in the palm of his hand, his hurt morphed into a new feeling - one he was all too familiar with.

He was pissed. Pissed at Izaya's cowardice. Pissed at how he had ran away. Pissed at how the flea used him and tore him apart.

How dare he? How DARE he?

Shizuo grabbed the nearest objects around him and threw them at the floor; successfully breaking a table lamp. The coat rack. A coffee mug. Meaningless objects that littered his house. Much like how Izaya thought of Shizuo's emotions.

How dare he use me!

He punched a hole through his wall from pent up frustration and bruised his knuckles. But he didn't feel the pain. He was completely numb, right down to the bone.

How dare he play with my emotions as if they were a toy!

Shizuo paced in the living room, spitting out curses and profanities until he couldn't breathe. Most were aimed at Izaya, saying he was never anything more than scum and how he didn't deserve any sort of affection.

He gasped for air, leaning against the wall as he continued to scream inside his head, since his throat refused to let him vocally rant. He yelled at any higher power he could think of, cursing them for his troubles. Why him? What had he done wrong? Why was he given this strength? Why did he fall in love? Why had he been hurt so badly? Why?

And after ten minutes of yelling angrily at no one, he redirected the blame to the one person who could listen.

Himself.

He leaned against the wall, sliding to the floor with a shaky sigh. He sat there, staring up at the ceiling as he beat him up internally. This was his fault, after all. Things had been ok between them. Between him and Izaya. They were tolerable toward each other, if not friendly. He had opened himself up, letting Izaya see him for who he was. He had let Izaya see him at his most vulnerable, which was the stupidest mistake he had ever made.

He let the brunette dig inside him, latching on tightly. Izaya had spoiled the blonde rotten with love and affection. And now after the flea had ripped himself free, leaving a gaping hole in Shizuo's pride and soul, he wanted it that love. He sat on the floor, his body tingling as he craved the raven's touch, and his voice, and his love - whether it was artificial or not. It hurt Shizuo to think about that, but he knew it was true. Izaya used him, and threw him away once he was done.

The blonde couldn't help but think…how long had Izaya been fading away from him? And how long had he been blinded by a love that was one sided? Did he ever loved him at all? Was he only infatuated by the thought of having the brute all to himself? And once he had him wrapped around his little finger, was he satisfied?

He should have seen it coming. Why did he think that Izaya would change? The louse had hated him for almost a decade. Did he truly believe that those emotions would evolve into something else in only half a year? It was ridiculous. It was stupid.

It was proterozoic.

Anything good he'd felt over the past few months was over shadowed by the immense hurt that racked his entire body. His chest ached. His head was throbbing. His eyes stung with tears that he desperately wanted to shed, but couldn't. The weight of the world was on his shoulders, breaking him down. He felt exhausted and weary, and although he wanted to chase after Izaya and bring him back, he couldn't. All he could do was sit in his home, shivering as he listened to the clock slowly tick away.