His hand was on your throat.
His voice in your ear.
“...And I'll kill you.”
Really, it seemed he would be willing to off you for any reason. A single breath, and you'd have your windpipe severed. A nervous gulp and your gullet, sliced.
“To die, would be an awfully great adventure.” Wasn't that what Peter Pan said? Only you were, unfortunately, not living in such a fairytale. This wasn't Neverland, it was a dark, neon-graced abandoned apartment block, littered with rain puddles and cigarette butts. A place where you were never meant to venture, but where you had come regardless, because stubborn people were just like that. Headstrong and defiant 'til the end of time, regardless of any associated idiocy.
Izaya considered you an idiot. He'd called you by that name numerous times now.
“Idiot...what exactly did you figure you'd accomplish by coming here?”
A 'foolish human'. That's all you were.
In fairytale terms, you could perhaps be considered the captive princess. He, the twisted king that ruled over a sizeable portion of Tokyo. It seemed he had jurisdiction over an entire ward, and asking how that had happened left you with no answers. He was just one person...how much power could a single boy have?
A light breeze swept by and ruffled the fur lined hood of his coat. His ever smirking face looked more and more cat-like in the moonlight, his eyes practically glowing as they stared at you. You stared back, and didn't stop. His order rang true in your head, because the cold point of his blade made it clear he wasn't kidding.
He purred out seductively, like he was getting some sort of sick pleasure from this interaction. And, truth be told, he was. Izaya always got precisely what he wanted out of any exchange. If he wandered into any convenience store, he'd pick out what he liked and there would be no arguments if he decided to let his wallet stay in his pocket. If somebody accidentally bumped as little as a shoulder with him, he'd have them kowtowing on the ground just to satisfy his own ego.
And here you were. Trying to fulfil an impossible demand just to satiate his twisted desires. Because if you didn't, he'd twist that knife into your gut. Like the turn of a key, and the scarlet would open.
Your little yelp gave it away before he even picked up on it. A little flicker indicated your eyelids giving in, the pooling salt water finally running free into tears. Izaya chuckled sinisterly and clicked his tongue against his palate, putting that knife up right under one eye and poking it a little harder against your skin. The resulting squeak was just...delightful.
“...I thought I made it clear that I didn't want you to do that. It was such a simple task too...but what was I expecting? You humans are all the same. Useless.”
You shuddered, unable to summon up a single word due to the fear clogging your throat. You only kept your body and back pressed stiffly to the wall behind yourself, feeling the knife as it slid deftly across your skin. Right from your under-eye, down to your jawline, and finally coming to rest at the side of your throat.
One quick jerk to the side and he'd paint the asphalt with your crimson color. Only Izaya seemed to keep his blade steady, not yet using his weapon for such a gruesome task.
Perhaps he had initially intended it. Yet something about the way the moonlight cast upon you in that moment made him change his mind.
Your entire figure wouldn't stop trembling. You had your eyes clenched so tightly that you were developing premature wrinkles on your pretty face. Your lips were parted, and he swore he could hear the hollow clicking of chattering teeth behind them.
That mouth of yours looked like an invite. Izaya had no shortage of girls, boys, whomever, that he could play with when he was bored, especially as his reach throughout the metropolis grew and grew. Yet every single one of them had always seemed so shallow and dull. No fun at all upon reflection, just a little exciting at the time when he had them in bed. He was always left relying on cigarettes for any sort of afterglow, otherwise there was none.
But something about you was strangely alluring. When he initially heard of a trespasser trying to sneak around his streets he took it into his own hands, like always. There were many willing to serve him, whether out of self-preservation or genuine admiration, but it was often his preference to do things alone. That was how this whole empire of his had been born in the first place. These two hands had built it.
And now they stood ready to claim you. Not kill you. That would be a waste...he could see it now.
“...I like the face you make when I tell you what to do.”
Izaya's words startled you a bit, and you couldn't help looking at him again, noting how he still wore that smug, haughty expression of his. It was like a tattoo.
“That's right. Don't look so surprised sweetheart. Who wouldn't get turned on seeing you like this? All red faced and tearful...and willing. Because you don't want to die...but also...because you obviously don't want to live either...”
Your eyes widened further.
“That must be the case, right?” Izaya leaned in further, pressing his arm to the wall above your head, coming nose to nose with you, “-Because I'm sure you're not so stupid as to think coming here wouldn't be suicide. Even if it was just stubbornness, you must have known the risk you were taking, right? Coming into my domain...knowing what would happen to you...”
Was he right? No...he couldn't be. You had plenty to live for, there was still a lot for you to hold onto out there in the world he didn't control.
Yet you had come here, and yes...you'd figured it would be dangerous.
Perhaps you really were just a fool.
“S...so you're actually going to k-...kill me...?” you asked that dreaded question, wincing as he toyed with the knife and swiped it dangerously close to your cheek.
“Mm...no, not right now. If you piss me off, then yes.”
Izaya grinned. This wasn't Neverland, it was Wonderland, with that Cheshire smile of his.
“But if you behave...and if I can keep seeing you in this state...I think you'll hold enough of my interest to keep yourself safe...”
His thumb and finger pinched your chin and drew your face in by just an inch. A pop sounded as he lifted something white past his teeth. Your little yelp as his lips brushed your own was just divine, but what he loved even more was seeing that confusion in your eyes.
He urged them to close with a kiss. He knew you shut them tight as soon as his lips thrust against your own, a pleasured moan sounding in his throat as he ravaged your struggling mouth. His tongue passed the pill to yours before you could breathe.
The last thing you'd see would be the moon behind him.
You wouldn't be waking up in any sort of paradise, unless 'paradise' could be defined as a 10 by 10 basement cell. Like trying to enter Narnia, but only ending up stuck in a closet. Izaya intended on making sure you stayed in there too. Forever.
Those eyes would open sorrowfully. You'd see your former freedoms swapped for a cage.
Quick as a blink.