Shizuo was still laughing when Izaya was suddenly, quickly in front of him. There was no stifling it, it flowed like a broken tap, and his shoulders shook with the effort. He felt exhausted. This whole week had been exhausting, even the parts that hadn't involved Izaya. He shouldn't have egged Izaya on, because maybe Shizuo could have slipped into a coma right there, in the garden. Maybe it could be his turn to sleep - really sleep - like Izaya had done. Like Shizuo had interrupted. All those memories, poking their way through at the right time. He could have smashed something, if only he could stop laughing.
Still, he stared back at Izaya, met that hatred. There was nothing tender in Shizuo's face now. It was dark, accusatory - and his own familiar, twisted grin began to take over.
Izaya asked him what he would like him to do. One more short laugh, and then Shizuo was on him, quickly and forcefully shoving Izaya to the ground beneath him, twisted grin still on his face. He didn't know where the original dagger went, but the thing about being a huntsman, you always have a spare. Shizuo slipped it out from his boot. This one was smaller, but it would serve its purpose just fine.
"You know what you problem is?" Shizuo asked, a mock laced in his tone. "You're a coward. The high and mighty Orihara Izaya is nothing but a fucking coward." Shizuo used the dagger to slit Izaya's suit, shirt, and tie all in one go - just as he had his hoodie a couple of nights ago. There - both the stab wound and the healing slash across his heart. Shizuo put his free hand over them. Pressed.
"I asked you to give me your heart." Shizuo brought the dagger to his own slash mark, but only traced it in the air, without contact. "Then I told you you could have mine. And you didn't believe me." He then slit his own shit downward, similarly. "You think I'm the idiot?" He forced Izaya's hand to grab the knife and made it press into his chest, pricking it.
"Take it, you asshole. You fucking worthless flea. I'm not like you. I don't go back on my promises." He pressed harder. "Take it."
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Still, he stared back at Izaya, met that hatred. There was nothing tender in Shizuo's face now. It was dark, accusatory - and his own familiar, twisted grin began to take over.
Izaya asked him what he would like him to do. One more short laugh, and then Shizuo was on him, quickly and forcefully shoving Izaya to the ground beneath him, twisted grin still on his face. He didn't know where the original dagger went, but the thing about being a huntsman, you always have a spare. Shizuo slipped it out from his boot. This one was smaller, but it would serve its purpose just fine.
"You know what you problem is?" Shizuo asked, a mock laced in his tone. "You're a coward. The high and mighty Orihara Izaya is nothing but a fucking coward." Shizuo used the dagger to slit Izaya's suit, shirt, and tie all in one go - just as he had his hoodie a couple of nights ago. There - both the stab wound and the healing slash across his heart. Shizuo put his free hand over them. Pressed.
"I asked you to give me your heart." Shizuo brought the dagger to his own slash mark, but only traced it in the air, without contact. "Then I told you you could have mine. And you didn't believe me." He then slit his own shit downward, similarly. "You think I'm the idiot?" He forced Izaya's hand to grab the knife and made it press into his chest, pricking it.
"Take it, you asshole. You fucking worthless flea. I'm not like you. I don't go back on my promises." He pressed harder. "Take it."