Mute |Shizaya| (Currently Editing)

Chapter 18 - Cracks like Tears

"You fall seven times, you get up eight."

Days past, or, maybe more like weeks. They couldn't let Izaya out just yet, waiting, watching to see if Izaya would have another Hypovolemic shock, in which Izaya didn't have another. It's was weird, not hearing Izaya's voice grinding against his ears, not hearing that teasing, tense, taunting voice of his. Even his smirk was empty. And it was always empty. Now it was emptier. The light in his eyes seemed artificial, like a dolls eyes. The glint, the glassy gaze wasn't from the Orihara Izaya Shinra knew now, it was the Orihara Izaya he knew from before. Way back, back, back. Back in middle school. The more innocent gaze, seeming he was more oblivious than he let on. It was suffocating, making Shinra's throat pinch and close tightly, like as if his tonsils had inflated and were suffocating him from the inside. Slowly. Slowly yet surely.

It was his first day walking out, breathing in fresh air, air that the opened window in his small deathly, white room could never obtain. The cloudless sky showed a message that would be anything but false to Izaya's eyes, glaring up, the sun being ten times as blinding as a person who has been going outside everyday. He has to remember, he was in a coma for half a year, then kept in the hospital for weeks to be supervised 'just in case'. His stumbling was still there, therapy was now a choice for Izaya as he was having trouble walking around on his own still.

They got to Shinra's apartment, (Shinra didn't trust Izaya oh his own) and wanted to settle Izaya into the guest room, one with a cot and fresh clean blankets, in which Celty had cleaned them just before going to pick up her crazy boyfriend, and his now muted friend. There was broth on the stove, the smell filling the room once the front door was open, one quick wift of the food telling Izaya that it was supposed to be a Hot Pot, but with more liquid, and a lot less ingredients.

Shinra let go of Izaya for just a second, and he was already diving face first into the hardwood floors of the couple's apartment. Celty's shadows caugh Izaya when he was just about to smack into the floor. The groan that slipped from the pale lips (or more like muted air) was so quiet that the other two didn't hear it as he was set back onto his two feet.

The waltz to the kitchen table was just slightly harder. With just socks on his feet, Izaya would slightly slip here and there. Once sat at the table, Izaya glared at Shinra. 

[I told you, I'm not hungry.] The monotonous man in his own PDA once again caused a shiver to run down Celty's spine. The thing with the device was, it couldn't carry any venom, like Izaya voice would have. It made him seem weak, poor, worthless. That fact caused cracks and chipping on the walls Izaya had built and surrounded himself. Izaya couldn't stand it, after everything, it came down to this. It was all because of that one time, the one time he didn't listen. It was because of him and a certain someone with blind red violence. He should have just ran, ran and not look back. He could have made it to safety. But no. It was actually his fault. All his fault. Only his fault. He was the reason things went down that day. He was the reason for his own destruction. All of that lead to him loosing his most powerful and important weapon:

His voice.

So now, he sat there, looking pathetic, Shinra trying to shove food down his throat. But Shinra forgot one thing. He wasn't fucking hungry!

Izaya would turn his head to the side when a spoon was coming his way - for the couple reserved to spoon feeding him - which made him look like a child throwing a tantrum, not wanting to eat his greens. Lips sealed shut and cheeks puffed out, no food was entering the ravens mouth, and with the sting of heat on the metal spoon, it was getting hard to keep his mouth sealed completely.