The most painful part of waking up was the realization that everything Shizuo had felt throughout that encounter - all of it, the longing, the desire to see Izaya smile, that open, pure love - none of it had faded. It all brimmed at the surface, torn open by the curse and left to bleed. Waking up hadn't meant peace of mind, had not offered him that familiar sense of rage that so effortlessly drowned out everything else. There had been a deep sincerity in everything that had transpired between him and Izaya, one that lingered even as Shizuo's full consciousness tried to bury it back down, and it fucking hurt.
He wanted to hate Izaya just as much as Izaya wanted him to become that monster. He tried, in those moments, tried really hard - but he hadn't had the time to process, to reassert himself, to shove everything back down into something quiet and misunderstood. He wanted to say something. Might have, even, but Izaya didn't let him. Instead, Izaya kicked him, and of course he hardly felt it physically - but mentally. Emotionally. Izaya kicked him while he was down and so incredibly lost that it hurt more than any other physical slight Izaya could have ever taken against him.
Shizuo hated him. He hated him so god damn much that he wanted Izaya to die, because Shizuo fucking felt for him. He fucking -
Shizuo held his breath as Izaya came close, pointedly did not look at him, refused to look at him. And those words. Shizuo wanted the rage to respond, wanted to make Izaya pay for ever wishing such a terrible curse on him, but it was too soon, too fresh. He was too vulnerable. Unlike Izaya, his own fortress had not yet been shoved up. There hadn't been any time. Shizuo was too slow.
As Izaya straightened back up, Shizuo slumped against the gazebo and started laughing. There was nothing of humor, joy, or even mild amusement in that laugh. It was broken, raw, and emotional. Shizuo might as well had been crying - but there were no tears, just dry laughter.
"It will!" he called out at Izaya. No, he wouldn't - couldn't, in his condition - give chase, but he could yell at him before it was too late. "It already has, Izaya! But it's fucked you up, too! You're broken, I can see it! And you're running away like the bastard you are, you fucking flea."
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He wanted to hate Izaya just as much as Izaya wanted him to become that monster. He tried, in those moments, tried really hard - but he hadn't had the time to process, to reassert himself, to shove everything back down into something quiet and misunderstood. He wanted to say something. Might have, even, but Izaya didn't let him. Instead, Izaya kicked him, and of course he hardly felt it physically - but mentally. Emotionally. Izaya kicked him while he was down and so incredibly lost that it hurt more than any other physical slight Izaya could have ever taken against him.
Shizuo hated him. He hated him so god damn much that he wanted Izaya to die, because Shizuo fucking felt for him. He fucking -
Shizuo held his breath as Izaya came close, pointedly did not look at him, refused to look at him. And those words. Shizuo wanted the rage to respond, wanted to make Izaya pay for ever wishing such a terrible curse on him, but it was too soon, too fresh. He was too vulnerable. Unlike Izaya, his own fortress had not yet been shoved up. There hadn't been any time. Shizuo was too slow.
As Izaya straightened back up, Shizuo slumped against the gazebo and started laughing. There was nothing of humor, joy, or even mild amusement in that laugh. It was broken, raw, and emotional. Shizuo might as well had been crying - but there were no tears, just dry laughter.
"It will!" he called out at Izaya. No, he wouldn't - couldn't, in his condition - give chase, but he could yell at him before it was too late. "It already has, Izaya! But it's fucked you up, too! You're broken, I can see it! And you're running away like the bastard you are, you fucking flea."
And Shizuo laughed and laughed.