(He's once been too terrified of death. Here, he already knows it's not a permanent state and his hopes for an afterlife have already been fulfilled. So, patiently, he just waits in place and tries his very best to keep his eyes open, even while the world seems to spin and the walls seem to tilt a little more than one would prefer. It's at least somewhat comforting, feeling cold while feeling the warm liquid pour from his waist.
Ah, there she is. Good thing she had her phone with her, wasn't it? It's all according to plan, considering the despair and panic painted on her face as she takes him into her arms. Izaya won't speak for now, he knows it would only cause his lungs to do more work and fill his mouth with even more blood - all he does is moan in pain when he's moved. It doesn't last too long, at the very least.
A hand, stained and red, gently tucks a strand away from her face as his skin closes and his ribs glue back together. It never ceases to amuse him, her healing.)
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Ah, there she is. Good thing she had her phone with her, wasn't it? It's all according to plan, considering the despair and panic painted on her face as she takes him into her arms. Izaya won't speak for now, he knows it would only cause his lungs to do more work and fill his mouth with even more blood - all he does is moan in pain when he's moved. It doesn't last too long, at the very least.
A hand, stained and red, gently tucks a strand away from her face as his skin closes and his ribs glue back together. It never ceases to amuse him, her healing.)
Thanks, Bella-chan. You've done enough.