Obsessive Love (Izaya x Reader)

Chapter 14: The Park

Now, why was Izaya so obsessed with going to the park? He held out a strawberry milk for me, which I took, slightly annoyed.
"Are you stalling?" I asked, stabbing the straw through.
He smiled. "I hoped you'd realise it yourself."
I raised an eyebrow. "Realise what?"
"I hired you as my bodyguard. I brought you to the park. I bought you strawberry milk." He paused. "I asked you to marry me."
I searched his face for any indication of where this might be going but he just seemed slightly disappointed. "And?"
He sighed, a tired smile. "Nothing helped, did it?"
"I'm sorry, what was supposed to happen?"
"If you didn't remember yourself, what's the point?"
"Remember what?" I was visibly frustrated, barely holding myself back from squeezing the milk in my hand.
He smiled. "The first time we met."
I paused, eyebrow raised. "When you saved me from one of Shizuo's tantrums?"
He chuckled. "No. Before that."
"I have never even been to Ikebukuro before that. Last time I came here I was five or something," I said trailing off as I caught his expectant expression. "No freaking way...Did we meet then?"
He nodded.
I scoffed. "Damn I must've left an impression for you to remember it all these years."
He shrugged. "I suppose."
"But what happened? How did we meet?" I was thinking, hard. But the only thing I could recall were those fuzzy memories I had from my dream. My parents and the bench.
"I'll give you a hint. You were crying."
"I remember getting lost."
He flashed a brief frustrated look before smiling again. He thought for a second then sat down beside me with a familiar thump. "Hi."
I stared at him blankly. What the hell? "Hi?"
"Why are you crying?"
I paused, then automatically spoke. "I got lost."
"You're not from around here. I know everyone around here."
Suddenly a memory came flooding back.

A small boy with black hair and cold brown eyes.
"I'm not."
"Well then, who are you?"
"My mother told me not to trust strangers," I sniffled.
He pulled a disgusted face, handing me a tissue from his pocket. "Wipe your nose, you're crying like a child," he said coldly.
"That's because I am a child," I blew my nose into the tissue.
"Oh?~" he teased. "That's quite the dress you've got on."
Instantly beaming, I shot up, twirling the frilly, white, princess frock. "Do you like it? My mummy made it for me. She said I looked like a bride."
"A bride huh? You look more like a birthday cake to me," he teased.
I pouted, slapping his arm. He led out a groan, rubbing his arm.
"You have the strength of a gorilla! Are you going to be a gorilla bride? You should be a bodyguard or something instead! No man's gonna marry a girl that strong," he still joked despite how hard he was hit.
I was angry, no furious. And upset, and hungry. Tears began welling up in my eyes.
He watched, a surprised look on his face. "Why are you crying again?" He stood up concerned. "If I buy you something to drink, will you stop crying?"
I sniffled glancing at him eagerly.
"What do you want?" He asked tapping his foot.
"Strawberry milk..."
"Hah? You really are so childish," he teased before making his way to the vending machine. He paused turning around, "and I'll marry you if no one else does, so stop crying."
I watched him run away, red eared. I sat down on the bench and my memory began fading away.

I stood up, crushing the strawberry milk box in my hand. I gave him a long hard look.
"I think I remember."
He was resting his head on his hand, watching with that same amused expression, as if he had expected this all to happen.
"Wait, so how'd you know it was me? Right now?" I asked furrowing my brows.
"Let's just say I've been following you a long time," he said playfully.
"You've been stalking me?" I placed a hand on my hip.
"Well that's one way to put it."
"That's the only way to put it. How long?"
He paused. "I saw your parents that day. They found you before I could get back to you. And they looked familiar. I did my research, found out where you lived and kept tabs on you."
I was still. "What do you know about me?"
"I'd like to think I know everything. Your birthday, your family's birthdays. Your blood type—"
"You know my blood type? I don't even know my blood type."
"I know, that's why I know."
I stared at him, a shared blankness in both our expressions.
"There's something very wrong about what you said, and I think you know it."
He opened his mouth to say something then closed it.
"I'm leaving. You're beginning to sound really creepy."
He said nothing as I walked away. I expected him to make some sort of remark, but he was silent. Now he was being the unpredictable one. My assumption was that he may have looked into me after we bumped into each other. I thought, since I was new to Ikebukuro, he did some research into me. Or since he seemed to know who my parents were, he knew a few things about me. To think he had been following me since we were children. The thought gave me goosebumps.
I went straight to my apartment. Opening the door, I clumsily took my shoes off, throwing my bag onto a chair, I sunk into the sofa, covering my face. It was all so much to take in. And why had the memory been so suppressed?
Going back to the countryside was beginning to look really appealing all of a sudden.