Possessions

Shizuo Heiwajima doesn't have many possessions. A rack of the same bartending outfit, a picture of him and Kasuka, and some milk in the fridge. Now he has a new possession, Izaya Orihara.

Chapter 1

How did we end up here? How did we end up chasing each other round and round trying to end the life of the other without remembering why we hated each other to start with? I remember Izaya pisses me off. But that's not a substantial reason. It's a pathetic excuse for a substantial reason. So why have I been chasing him around for so long?

These are the thoughts that hit me now that I've finally got him cornered. My hands pressing his wrists into the wall, and my knees locking down his legs. Blood is running from his mouth, but he's still smirking. Why is he still smirking like that!? He pisses me OFF!

"Go on then Shizu-chan," he grins, "Kill me."

His crimson eyes are filled with madness, it's like a sickness, an illness. It almost makes me feel an odd sympathy for the sadistic bastard.

"Why should I do you such a favour?" I ask, an unsuppressed growl laced into my voice.

"Oh? Shizu-chan is smarter than he looks…" Izaya cooed.

"I could crush your bones in an instant." I threaten through gritted teeth, trying to prolong the process but tightening my grip on his skinny fragile wrists.

"Do it then." Izaya grinned wider, "I dare you." he articulates.

"Don't underestimate me, Izaya-kuuun." I say, and crush his tiny wrists.

It's nothing, it's like crushing a potato chip. He winces, and I let go all of a sudden so he crumples to the ground. I don't hesitate in pinning him to the ground of the cold dark alley with the sole of my shoe on his chest.

"I had anticipated you would have some sort of soft spot for me, Shizu-chan." Izaya wheezed, his smirk still plastered on.

"Why would I have a soft spot for you?" I ask.

"Because you're still chasing me for what? And if you had a true motive, truthfully I would be dead." he says.

I lean closer to his mischievous face. No, his devil's mask, and now I can see it. The cracks in his façade. The fear in his eyes. He's still grinning but his eyes are filled with terror. They're glassy now and he's … about to cry?

"Why are you crying?" I demand.

"I'm not crying." he croaks out.

"Blink."

"No."

"I said blink! You can't stare forever!" I yell in his face.

I stare at him for minutes, and he stares at me. Then he blinks. And the tears roll.

Izaya Orihara is crying.

"I always wanted to live forever you know." he whispers.

What is he expecting? Sympathy? I reach down and grab the front of his shirt and toss him against the wall. He's so light like chucking a teddy bear. I'm reminded he's human when I hear the bones cracking as he crashes into the bricks.

"Why are you crying like a little girl in front of me?" I ask, for some reason feeling infuriated.

Izaya doesn't reply, I can hear him wheeze, cough, wince and cry. WHY IS HE CRYING?!

I stomp back towards his crippled figure on the ground, squeeze my fingers around his throat and hold him up against wall once more. I look up at the pathetic expression on his pathetic face.

"WHY ARE YOU GIVING UP?!" I yell.

Izaya opens his eyes which were squeezed shut. I feel something on my cheek and realize it was Izaya's hand. It was caressing my cheek? How is he doing that? He should have at least sustained two broken wrists, a fractured if not broken spine and ribs, and not be able to breathe. I release my grip on his throat and hold him by the waist, setting him down. It's not like he can go anywhere. Izaya's hand falls to his side again.

"I'm not giving up." he says quietly, "Just giving in."

"I love you, Shizuo."

Then he collapses into my arms.

It would leave a bad taste in my mouth if I left him lying in an alley way for some thugs to beat him to death. If there was anything more humiliating… After all the things he's done to me, I probably should leave him. But I'm trying to be better than that. Better than the piece of shit Izaya is.

SETTLING IZAYA DOWN ON THE COUCH, I wonder if he'll wake up. It'll be real fucking painful when he does but he should. In the meantime I'll get some sleep, if he wakes and tries to move, I'll hear his screaming.

And I do. At 3.46am on his digital bed side alarm, he wakes to Izaya's moans, groans and yelps. I walk groggily to the lounge room, closely evading the doorframe under a dizzy waking spell. I stumble over the lamp's chord, and trip- damn incoordination- and fall over the arm of the couch, consequently landing on top Izaya. Face into his thighs, fortunately not his crotch, and my legs flailing for a second off the furniture. I push myself off him, not minding his injuries in the slightest. He deserves to scream and groan after everything he's responsible for.

"Morphine!" Izaya gasped.

"I need morphine!" he repeated.

"Seeing you desperate and suffering is strangely amusing." I comment.

"Then can you really say I'm such a horrible person for enjoying people's *whimper* suffering as well?" he smirks.

"No one deserves it more than you do." I justify.

"Did you get up just to rub that in my face?" he asks,

"Yes." I confirm after a moment's thought.

Izaya tries to move but in result just yelps in pain.

"Do you realize how much more you're becoming like me by doing so?" Izaya asks in a window of peace.

"I'm nothing like you." I say grinding my teeth together.

I wonder why I even brought him here.

"I'm going back to bed." I say sighing.

"Shizu-chan!" he calls after me before harshly coughing, followed by a cry of pain. Coughing from the lump in his throat and crying from the pain of coughing with broken bones.

"What do you want?" I ask, admittedly out of pity.

"Don't let me sleep here. It hurts."

I've never heard him sound so pathetic.

"It'll hurt more to carry you to the bed." I grunt.

"Please…" he begs.

I reluctantly slide my arms under him and lift him up, he screams and cries, and when I look at him I don't see Izaya, just a pathetic ravenous corpse.

Moans of agony later, I settle Izaya down on the bed. He looks at me with that look of sheer desperation. Beads of sweat are more than noticeable, his chest heaves quickly, and he's restraining himself from crying or yelling out.

"Shizu-chan, make it better." Izaya begs.

I just look at him. Who are you and what have you done with Izaya Orihara?

"Please…"

"Shizuo."

He's pleading.

"I don't know what I can do for you." I say. I don't know medicine, the best I know is what bones I've broken and that the pain won't subside for a long time.

"Kiss me." says Izaya.

My eyebrows knit together.

"That won't do anything for you. Go to sleep." I tell him.

He's delusional.

"It'll make me feel better." he says in between deep breaths. "Kiss me."

He must be going crazy.

I lean down over him, over his helpless expression and overheated face. His confused features and his limp body. One hand to the left of his face and a knee over his hips. I look straight into his eyes. It's almost like they're not his eyes. But they are. Crimson and afraid. Afraid of what? Of me? I test that theory- leaning closer. He doesn't flinch, if anything his eyes become half lidded. I feel shaky and weak, petite hands touch my bare waist. He was being serious? And even though I had intended to just test the waters, there was no backing out now. His fingertips eggs me closer, he's too weak to pull. By automatic response I move closer again. There is only inches between our lips and our noses are touching. It makes me flinch away.

"No Shizu-chan," he says in a small voice, wincing as he tries to use his strength and keep me there.

I almost pulled away, why didn't I?

That timid voice, had it been enticing?

Regardless, the moment my lips touched his, my stomach churned, then everything faded away. There was just me and him. This fragile body beneath me responding to my touch. It felt so right, though it was so wrong. His thumbs slid across my skin making me shiver. It made me kiss his soft lips harder. He moaned in pain but I took advantage of it, slipping my tongue across his bottom lip and into his mouth, muffling any sounds of pain. I could still feel his whimpers. I bring my right hand to his cheek and pull his face closer if that were possible. He moans again. This time it sounds different to before. Pleasure? Pleasure mixed with pain. What am I thinking? Nothing. I straddle him, his hands travelling up to my ribs. His gentle hands are so soft. Is it because his wrists are broken and his will is the only thing holding them there? Or were they always like this? I bite his bottom lip, I'm frustrated to know the answer. There's another moan from beneath me, and his hands sneak up behind my neck, clutching on to the ends of my hair. He's shaking and weak. And it only makes me more aggressive. My kisses drift to his jaw and travel down his throat. The throat I'd strangled probably only six hours prior. He writhes in pain, but ultimately it just hurts him more. His fingers run through my hair and his panting becomes evident again. My hands touch at the base of abdomen and slide his shirt up roughly. The pressure on his spine and ribs is too much and cries out.

Then he begs, he begs me to stop.

"STOP! STOP! PLEASE, STOP!" he cries.

But I don't stop. I can't stop. My bottom lip grazes over his skin, and then I nip at his ribs. My hands are squeezing at his waist. Izaya screams.

"Please…" he begs weakly.

and then I freeze.

Silently I remove myself and leave the room. Izaya says nothing. I don't know what to think of myself. Before thinking too much I crash on the couch and wish sleep upon me. If I stayed awake it would be agonizing.

Please leave a review if you enjoyed chapter 1 and would like to read more!

This is currently a oneshot, but I could be persuaded.

~Red Queen of Stolen Hearts