Durarara: Please, Izaya

Chapter Eight

It had been about a month now since the night Izaya landed himself at Shinra's, since Shizuo found out about his nasty habit, and Izaya hadn't let up in his self harming, if anything he seemed to be doing it more frequently, as though every minute, every hour a new mark appeared on his body.
Shizuo showed up sometime that afternoon, as he had been doing consistently. Sometimes the two didn't speak, didn't even acknowledge each other's existences, but he would always be there at some point in the day and eventually meander out to wherever he goes.
  Shizuo didn't always see the new wounds on the information broker's body, but he never doubted that they were there. He had made blunt remarks suggesting Izaya try to recover, but he was never overly insistent knowing his suggestions would just be ignored anyway.
Izaya looked up from the computer where he'd been waiting for a response from the chat room, "Okay."
Shizuo looked up from the random magazine he had picked up, "Hm?"
He spoke shakily but with urgence, "I...I need to do something about this. I need to stop so...I'll work on it."
"Okay," he said simply, shocked at Izaya's sudden confidence.
Shizuo watched Izaya's skin flush and frustrated tears pricked at his eyes, "How?!"
"Oh uh...hm..." he had prepared for this conversation so many times each with a precise and different response, but he couldn't be truly prepared for this, "Just start by talking to someone, be honest really speak your mind...also you could tell them when you do it or have the urge to maybe?"
"Ok," he paused for a second, fidgeting with his sleeves, "Shizuo?"
"Yeah?" He looked back up at the information broker with his eyebrow arched in question.
"I want to cut."
  That wasn't entirely unexpected, but it did manage to catch Shizuo off guard. What was he supposed to say to that? Something straight to the point like that for Izaya who had spoken in nothing but vague hints and innuendos up until this point was beyond uncharacteristic for him.
  When the silence became uncomfortably long and Izaya began to regret what he has said, Shizuo still didn't know how to respond. He walked over and sat on the floor beside Izaya sitting in his office chair, hoping his presence might be of some consolation.
"Don't. Just stay here."
The two stared out of the spacious window of the apartment in silence. Although the urge didn't go away, Shizuo's presence prevented him from being able to escape to another room to cut.

Izaya's Point of View
A week. It has been one week since I've cut myself. I've spent most of my time in Shizuo's presence so as to keep myself from doing anything. I told him I'd try to recover, and I'd like to if only to prove I can, but my skin constantly crawls. It's like an itch, my flesh just begging me to slice into it. Tom needed Shizuo's help with something today, and it's the first time I've been alone. The first time I've even had an opportunity to cut all week.

I need it. I need it. I need it. I need it. I need it. I need it. I need it. I need it. I need it. I need it. I need it. I need it. I need it. I need it. I need it. I need it.

I have to do it. It's not like a relapse would be all that surprising anyway if he were to find out. It has only been a week.
But Shizuo trusts me; it's been a week, and he trusts me not to hurt myself. That's why he went out. He trusts me to be okay for a few hours. He thinks I'll confide in him when it gets too hard and I want to cut.
I could just do it and not tell him and he wouldn't question it. He trusts me to talk to him when I need to.
Talking about it is useless. I need to dig into my flesh, it's the only way to make me feel better. I need to release the red blood resting beneath, watch it flow, see the human in me.
I retrieved one of the hidden blades taped to the underside of my desk and held it to my wrist.
No.
That's too obvious. He expects to find cuts there, and even though he trusts me, he might check.
I made my way into the bathroom, not really needing privacy in the empty apartment but it just being a bit of a habit--it's also easier to get rid of any evidence in there. I stripped down to my boxers and pushed the hem up enough so that the marks I was about to make couldn't be seen as long as I was wearing them.
I pressed the blade into my thigh feeling the craving, the hunger for pain peak. I slid the blade across the skin slowly, reveling in the pain--the flesh was more tender than that of my arm resulting in a sharper stinging sensation.
Focusing on the pain, I felt myself calm, my heart slow. My head cleared, finally freed from the pounding need. I could breathe, and it didn't feel like there was such a weight on my shoulders. It seemed as though the feeling of constant edge that had been eating away at me over the last few days had vanished.
It took only a few seconds for blood to rise from the wound, and it gradually crept down the side of my thigh. I didn't even feel the need to make another cut, and by the time I came down from the temporary high the blood had mostly stopped dripping from the wound. I used a paper towel to clean the blood off my leg and the floor beneath me and quickly flushed it. I stashed the blade back under my desk and turned back to my computer to resume my play in the chat room.

Objective Point of View
Shizuo returned later that evening from a small spat with an underground group of the blue squares. He found Izaya's fingers dancing across the keyboard and his eyes flash across his computer screen. After finishing whatever it was he was doing, Izaya looked over to greet Shizuo with a small smile, one that hadn't graced his face in ages--although the slight upturn of his mouth was barely more than a twitch.
"What have you been up to all day?"
"Just work," Izaya answered in his usual cool tone. Shizuo noticed the tightness and edge in Izaya's voice over the past few days seemed to be gone. This sent off warning bells in Shizuo's mind, but he was too tired to pursue it and wanted to trust Izaya. Shizuo flopped down on the couch for a nap.
Izaya watched him as he breathed, snoring slightly, and sighed in relief that he hadn't seemed to notice anything off about him that would indicate he had created a fresh wound. The flare of anxiety remaining from Shizuo's return passed when he applied some pressure to the hidden cut.

A/N-I didn't want to drag this chapter out any longer than I already had. It seems kind of plain to me and wordy; like there isn't a lot of action. I hope you enjoy :)