the mysterious fangurl(izaya x reader x shizuo)

Don't let your ice cream melt

disclaimer: durarara!! does not belong to me. i am just your average fangurl who makes fanfictions
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Your POV:

I blinked at him, my eyes widened and shocked.

What did he just say?

My ear drums must have been injured when I got hit by that vending machine.

"Sorry Rocchi-San, what did you say? I think my ears aren't working."

"I said I'd listen to what you need to let out—to tell someone. You're keeping something inside you right? Something you can't exactly tell just anyone."

How did he know?

His expression didn't seem like he had a motive; rather he looked kind, and understanding. His smile was gentle, and his gaze felt comforting.

I couldn't move my eyes away from him.

"Of course, I won't force you."

He chuckled lightly, his attention focusing back to his ice cream which was already dripping down the cone at a dangerous pace. I, on the other hand, stared back to the ground, my own ice cream almost completely melted, but it was still the least of my concerns.

"(Y/n)-Chan, your ice cream is-"

"Rocchi-San."

He stopped licking his treat, and although I couldn't see his face, I could tell he was staring at me. The silence was long and painful, but I had already decided what to do.

"Rocchi-San."

I talked again, and his body shifted slightly.

Shizu-Chan told me not to worry about complicated stuff about myself....so, would it be okay? To tell this stranger, someone I just met, everything?

I think it's fine, well, at least I hope so.

"Rocchi-San, I'll....I'll tell you everything. From the start."

He stopped shifting around and stayed completely still, as if waiting for me to continue.
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I told him everything. How I woke up from my coma from being hit by a vending machine, how I found everyone I had just met for the first time so familiar, how the streets of Ikebukuro was so nostalgic, even though it didn't seem like I had actually walked there myself....and how he felt familiar as well, although he definitely hadn't met me before, and bumping into him was our first meeting.

When I finished, I gulped, and looked back to him slowly.

His face was blank.

There wasn't a smile on his lips, but there wasn't a frown either. His eyes were looking back to mine, but there was no emotions being expressed through them.

My hand started to feel sticky from all the warm, melted cream of my previously delicious ice cream, and I bit my lip.

Maybe I should throw away my ice cream.......