Grief

Smitten

I blinked, staring up at what was becoming the way too familiar view of my bedroom ceiling. I couldn't sleep. I had tossed and turned for up to an hour before I gave up entirely in favor of staring at the air.

There was so much to think about. I felt my pulse thrum in my fingers as I lifted a hand up to stare at it.

Today was... nice.

My hand flopped back down to my side with a hefty sigh.

I couldn't stop thinking about that face Izaya made. Every time I close my eyes I would think back to that smile- and I can't sit still! Even after that, when we walked home, something in the air felt lighter, and I swear Izaya had been acting differently as well- If just a smidge.

His eyes would crinkle a little further when he'd grin or joke, and the whole stroll back to my apartment was filled with conversation- And bickering of course.

But it felt real, and... really nice.

It's like ever since I caught that glimpse of what he could be like, I've been starting to catch the little things in his expressions that speak the bigger picture of what he's really thinking.

And that laughter...

I groaned, rolling to shrivel in on my side as I pulled the blanket further up.

I don't even know what I did that made him react like that... Well, maybe a little. We were talking about the book and poltergeists, weren't we? And how there were ways to get rid of him.

My stomach churned at the thought of it.

With a heavy sigh of defeat, I chucked off the blankets and sprung up from the bed. My fingers were jittery, twitching, as I reached for my cigarettes and lighter before making my way towards the window.

With a shuttering thunk, brisk air hit my face, the cool touch was pleasant, and hopefully, it would help get me to relax enough to sleep. After all, I had just started to gain some traction towards a more normal sleeping schedule- So I wasn't exactly keen to break the steady improvement.

There was the familiar sound of the flame sparking before I singed the end of my cigarette, mouth dry at the idea of a good breath of much-needed nicotine.

I took a greedy inhale before smoke seeped out the corners of my mouth, curling out the window in lazy tendrils.

It wasn't just that moment that had been nice. Honestly, the whole day had been pretty enjoyable. Ignoring the awkward encounter with that woman... And how Tom thinks that's somehow my type-

I am not looking forward to the conversations Tom is going to try and pull in the future.

But the bookstore was nice! I nodded my head with conviction, remembering back to the man on the cover- I forget his name, something about a beetle-? But I could certainly respect the guy for our similar struggles.

And Izaya seemed pretty enamored with that one book that we bought. He even mentioned that he'd read it before, probably multiple times. Weird, but I guess a good book is a good book.

The cafe was still my favorite though... I nibbled on the edge of my cigarette, a smile tilted on my mouth as I thought back to the nice atmosphere and conversations we had.

Things felt different between us now. We weren't always fighting or insulting each other. I think- there's even a part of me who thinks we might be friends now... And that same part of me hopes that Izaya feels the same as well.

I huffed, shaking my head, as I lightly tapped a few ashes into the ashtray, which always sat by the window sill for nights like this. I rolled my shoulders back as I took a final deep breath, smoke curling down to nestle in my lungs for a few seconds before I let it all out with a final exhale of relief.