A/n: Just a little somethin'-somethin' I came up with while I was bored. I was GOING to go more hardcore, but I'm a total pussy and don't have the balls. Sorry, I guess. I have an IDEA, for continuing it, but unless I get some pretty motivating reviews, those ideas will probably just live on in my head.
So don't forget to review, YO!
The song is called "Glycerine" because I had the song by Bush stuck in my head and it sounds pretty fancy. Also, I feel as though if I were to continue, I could probably incorporate it somewherez... Anyway, I'm going to stop talking now, so you can get your read-on.
Teeney-Tiny OOC-ness (I think so, at least)
His insanity never ceased to amaze her. When she had first moved in with him, she thought that all of is strange behaviors were just a front to keep people guessing about him. She found that speculation to be very false. He was just as crazy as everyone thought he was.
Namie couldn't forgive herself. She had sworn to herself that she would never alow herself to feel anything for Izaya other than a mild level of loathing. Little did she know, after the passing of some time, Izaya and his strange antics began to grow on her.
Everyday, when he arrived home from walking around the city, he would always call out to her with the same "Naaaamieee." It sounded like something out of 'I Love Lucy'. She would always stop what she was doing at the moment and apporach him as he shrugged off his jacket.
"I saw the most interesting thing today," he would always tell her, enthusiastically and tell her about some sort of information that had nothing to do with either him or her but for some reason, he found that stuff interesting.
She almost felt as though it were proper for her to respond to him with a "That's nice, dear" like any housewife would. Which was exactally what she felt like; his wife. She lived with him, cooked and cleaned for him, and kept track of all of his appointments. All of the responsibilities of a wife without the benefit.
Suddenly a vision of herself in a polkadot apron in their modern-style kitchen with Izaya hugging her from behind flashed before her eyes. She shook the thought out of her head. Had she seriously just thought about being married to Izaya? Insane, sadistic Izaya?
"Namie?" his voice brought her out of her crazy fantasies.
"H-huh?" she sputtered, not quite catching what he had said.
"A litte out of it today, are we, Namie" Izaya asked with that sadistic smile on his face that she was begining to find more and more attractive.
'Wait, what am I thinking? His sick smile is not attractive in any way. Definitely not sexy or anything.' She thought, feebley. She hadn't even convinced herself with that one.
"I guess so," she replied, fumbling with the papers in her hands.
"You've been acting like that a lot, lately" he mentioned. She was a little surprised that he noticed but then again, this was Izaya, he noticed everything.
"Have I?" she asked.
"You have. Is there anything I should know about?" he asked, his curiosity, obvious.
"Not that I know of, and if there was I wouldn't tell you" she said, coldly. This was only half of the truth but Namie wasn't about to tell him that the reason she was so out of it was because she was having a hard time dealing with her growing attraction to him. Especially when he was so sick in the head.
"Ouch, a little harsh today, are we? I'm only trying to look out for you, Namie" he said pretending to be hurt by her words.
She ignored him. Why reply to him when he would just twist her words to mean something she didn't or say someting to make her look stupid?
She grabbed one of the magazines on the coffee table and sat on the large leather couch and began to read her book. She continued to ignore him as he asked her question after question, not once looking up from her book. She almost did notice when he, too sat down on the couch. She was set in her plan to ignore him and there was nothing Izaya could do to change his mind. Her plan was completely shattered when he laid his head down in her lap, looking up at her from under her book. He was sprawled out on the couch, taking up a large portion of the large couch.
Come on, Namie! Tell me what's going on, it's killing me!" he said, flashing one of his childish smiles at her. She continued to ignore him, despite his attempts. "Is it a man? Are you having love problems?" he prodded, "That's it, isn't it? I can tell, you've got that forlorn look in your eyes I see it all the time in teenage girls!" Words could not describe how irritated she was with him. She attempted to continue to read her book, but he soon grew tired of being ignored and grabbed the bottom of the book and pulled it out of her hands and discarded it back onto the table.
"Hey," she said in outrage. He sat up, his face dangerously close to hers, but she refused to let it faze her.
"It's your brother, isn't it" he said, his voice taunting. "You've been thinking about your dear Seiji in the arms of another woman, haven't you? Really, Namie, you should do something about that brother complex of yours. Not only is it unhealthy, but it's generally frowned upon by most society..." he rambled on.
Something in her mind suddenly snapped and she no longer had control over her body. She grabbed him by his hair and pulled his mouth onto hers. She took great pleasure in the obvioius shock she had given him as he was stiff and awkward against her. She was also sure that he took pleasure in the shock he gave her when he started kissing her back.
Namie realized that she once again had control over her body, and could have probably pushed him away if she wanted to, but that was the strange thing; she didn't want to. She never would have pegged the madman as a good kisser, but he was, surprisingly. She ran her fingers through his soft hair as he went for her neck. She gripped at his shirt and he took the hint, lifting his arms and allowing her to pull his shirt off.
"I'm not your rebound now, am I, Namie?" he asked in a husky voice before attacking her jawbone and lips. She ran her arms down his back and pulled him on top of her. "Eh, whatever. Screw it." he said.
And the rest, as they say, is history.
Namie woke the next morning in a room that didn't belong to her. She didn't stir. She didn't know why, but for some reason, she didn't want the person lying next to her to know that she was awake. She could feel his arm around her and his slim fingers running through her hair. She found his steady breathing oddly comforting. She wouldn't have minded lying there for a few more hours.
Izaya kissed her on the shoulder and began to disengage himself. Once again, her body acted on its own, reaching out and wrapping her arms around him, not allowing him to leave.
"Oh, so you are awake" he said, returning to his earlier position, facing her. "I had a hunch that you were faking" he grinned, running his fingers up her spine.
"I wasn't faking, you woke me up" Namie lied, kissing his collarbone.
"I always thought you were an early riser. You've always got coffee made by the time I wake up." He said, nuzzling the crook of her neck.
"I'm an early riser because my boss is an early riser." She responded, stroking his hair.
He laughed, "either way, we still need to get up at some point."
"Or I could call and cancel all of your appointments" she proposed, half serious, half sarcastic.
"But that would involve getting up and while we're at it, we might as well get to work." He reasoned, kissing her down her jawbone and neck.
She groaned, "You've got a point. But I think you just don't want to spend today with me" she pouted. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to just lie there all day.
"I spend every day with you," he smiled.
"Not what I meant." she responded, flatly.
He shrugged and rolled over on top of her and kissed her. She ran her fingers through his hair. When they broke apart, they were both out of breath.
"There must be something seriously wrong with that brother of yours, " he said to her, proping his head up on his elbow, "Hell, even if you were my sister, I think I'd still find you attractive."
'Was this nothing but a joke to him?' Namie thought. Just another way for him to mock her about her brother?
Seiji... How could she have done something like this to him? Regardless of whether or not Seiji knew about it, she felt as thought she had betrayed her brother and the one she loved. And with this asshole, none the less.
She suddenly pulled away from Izaya, who seemed a bit surprised by her actions. "I knew this was a bad idea" she said, not even looking at Izaya as she gathered her clothes. "You're such an ass." she spat as she slammed his door shut, leaving a smirking Izaya to himself.
"Really, she is so interesting." he murmured to himself, before getting up himself.
A/n: Whoo! Don't forget to drop me some love in the review box, mutha! I'd greatly appreciate it and it might just earn you a continuation! :3