[Izaya x OC] You Bastard, I Love You

Chapter 3: Roommates

"Hey! Get out of my room!"

He had definitely made himself at home. I glared as he took a place on my bed with a book in his hands. Looking up, he smiled another fake smile.

"Hello Hana-chan! What's up?"

"You know what's up, you bastard! You can't just come in here whenever you want! It's my room! Go to your own room!" This guy...was seriously pissing me off. And he had only been staying with me for a day and a half!

He put down his book and stretched out his legs.

He's so...what's the word? Skinny? No, slender...Wait, what? What am I thinking?!

I dismissed the thought and went back to the original topic at hand. "Izaya, get up. I don't care if you are older than me. Get out."

He sat up and crossed his legs. "You're just bitter. I think you need to calm down a little." He laid back down and closed his eyes, pretending to sleep, his seemingly constant smirk, however, was firmly in place. "Feel free to come back when your opinion matters."

Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! I've only known him a week and I already want to kill him! Maybe this is what that guy he's always mentioning feels. What was his name? Shizu-chan, I think.

I walked out of the room and went into the kitchen to make myself a small meal. I figured some food would calm me. After a few minutes of cooking, Izaya wandered into the kitchen area.

Great. Just what I need.

"What are you making, Hana-chan?" he asked.

"Nothing special. Just some eggs for an egg sandwich or something," I responded.

He took a few steps closer. "Smells good. You know, you just might be a decent cook."

What?! A compliment? From the douchebag puppet master himself?

"Uh, I really don't know how to cook a lot of things. Only simple stuff like this," my cheeks lightly flushed with contentedness from the compliment.

Izaya leaned against the counter; I could feel his intense eyes on me as I turned up the heat of the stove. "You might have potential if you practice. You could be as good a cook as Namie."

The compliment immediately was thrown out the window at that. "Namie? Who's she? Your girlfriend or something?" I figured with how often he teased me, I couldn't let him live this one down.

"Girlfriend? Ha, no way," he displayed an "I-couldn't-give-a-damn-about-her" face. "She used to work for me at my office. Cooked, cleaned, things like that."

I finished my eggs and turned off the stove before putting them onto a slice of  toasted bread with cheese.

It's weird. Izaya is being surprisingly tolerant...Maybe this won't be as bad as I thought.

"Make me some?"

If looks could kill, he would've been laying in a puddle of his own blood. Just when I thought he was being decent for once.

"Make your own damn food!" I threw the spatula at him and stormed out with my plate.

Then something caught my attention. The sound of the sparks and lighting of the stove fire. I turned back and saw Izaya searching through cabinets and trying to find the right ingredients.

I sighed, "Right...I haven't shown you where everything is yet." I put my plate onto the table near the couch and walked back into the hot kitchen. Pointing to one cabinet after another and explaining their contents was tiresome.

He leaned over in front of me to pick something up from the cabinet on the right of me. Only problem, he was on the left. I didn't bother stopping him, as it would only take a few seconds. But he continued to lean over me for longer than it should've taken. My face started to warm up.

This guy! He's dragging this out to mess with me! And I really thought he was actually a nice person. So much for that idea...But...he really is slender, and his black hair looks soft.

"Hana-chan?"

With a jolt, I stepped back as if to step away from those thoughts. "Ah! Yes?"

He stood over the stove and glanced over his shoulder at me. "Are you okay?" he again graced me with that stupid smirk I was already tired of seeing, "Your face is a bit red. You aren't embarrassed, are you?"

He really is a jerk.

"Of course not."

He shrugged then went back to making his meal without saying another word. I decided to eat over the counter instead of going into the living room.

"So what's your deal?" I asked casually. I didn't think I could put up with him and his attitude for long.

He chuckled in response, but didn't look at me. "I could ask you the same thing. I didn't try to kill myself, did I?"

"I didn't try to kill myself!" I defended, "I fell!" The man only raised an eyebrow as he glanced back over his shoulder. Finishing my sandwich, I rinsed the plate in the sink. "You know what? I don't even want to talk to you." Before allowing him to rebuttal, I rushed out of the kitchen, into my bedroom, and locked the door.