Hello! Guess who's watching Hunter x Hunter?
I have...mixed feelings about Hisoka. Still, I wanted to write this, especially after the Phantom Troupe arc.
For those of you waiting on the next chapter of Simple Seconds, thank you for following/favoriting. Your continued support means so much to me. I am currently working on the next chapter; this one was further along. My schedule for the next few weeks consists of peer-reviewing short works and writing/revising a novel chapter for class, so writing in my free time is painfully slow. But! I will upload soon.
Thanks for reading, and please review and tell me what you think. Enjoy!
Three loud knocks on her door.
Hands fumble against the wall, groping awkwardly in an attempt to find a light switch of some kind. A sharp thump echoes loudly through the dark apartment, followed by a mix of muttered profanity and whimpering. At last, Iro's fingers brush across the cursed light switch. Her apartment is flooded with light, bright enough to help her safely traverse the path through her kitchen to the front door. Two of the toes on her right foot throb from their sudden rendezvous with her bedside nightstand.
The knocks continue. There's a rhythm to them: One knock, a pause, then two more. Electricity runs up her spine.
He normally never comes to see her so often. Once a month, at best. The bruise on the inside of her thigh has yet to yellow, and her hips are still sore from their last encounter.
Sure enough, Hisoka stands in the doorway. He towers over her, though she's of average height. There's two men standing behind him, a blonde man, and a short man in black. All three look a bit scuffed up, but not injured by any means. Thank the stars she had been sleeping in a long shirt and shorts.
"Hisoka," Iro's voice comes out cautious, "I didn't expect to see you tonight."
"I don't mean to interrupt. My coworkers and I just need to rest here for a moment, if you don't mind," Hisoka says, in his usual velvety way. The man in black scoffs.
She does mind. She minds a lot, actually. Bringing his murderous cohorts to her home- this is crossing a line. A sarcastic remark bubbles in her throat, but she swallows it. Iro isn't a Nen user. She's a florist. Hisoka made it clear to her the night they decided to start hooking up that he was a Troupe member. One of the two conditions of that agreement, made a year ago in the early hours of the morning, was that he would never bring his work to her doorstep. These two men could kill her, easy. But her trust in Hisoka, as questionable as it may be, keeps her from being afraid.
"You have two hours," Iro says finally. She steps aside. As the men enter her home, a part of her tells her to take it back, tell them to leave. Hisoka was reasonable when he wanted to be. Instead, she closes the door, and locks it.
The man in black scoffs again. "You think you can put a time-limit on us? Hisoka's the only reason you're still alive right now."
"Noted," Iro says. "Keep talking and I'll cut it down to an hour."
She can't see his expression hiding under the high collar of his coat, but before he can spit his response the blonde man speaks. "Just be quiet, Fetian. She's not worth the trouble."
"Maybe not, but she's irritating."
"She's irritating, yeah, but we need to wait for the signal and this is the only place Hisoka could think of-"
Iro interrupts, turning to Hisoka. "I need to speak with you in the Hallway. Now," she says curtly.
Even though her back is turned as they walk, she knows Hisoka has that stupid smirk on his face. Once in the hallway, out of sight and earshot from the other two, Iro turns to him. Her hand makes a striking sound against his cheek. Hisoka stares down at her, his smirk gone. In its wake is haunting impassiveness. Her hands, normally gently tending to the flowers in her shop, are shaking, now balled into fists. For a moment, she can't speak to him. Can't look at him. Her gaze pierces his chest instead.
"We had an agreement," Iro begins, voice sharp and frozen. "Yet you bring them to my home-"
"They'd have found another place to stay," Hisoka says. "But I don't particularly care for their methods."
"What am I supposed to do, Hisoka? I can't use Nen. I don't stand a chance against them!"
"They won't hurt you."
It feels like she's talking to a child. "Of course they won't while you're here!"
Hisoka reached out, fingers entwining in her white hair. He brought a lock to his face, inhaling softly. His eyes close briefly, and when he opens them, his golden gaze settles on her with amusement. He takes a single step, his chest pushing her into the wall. Iro cranes her neck to look up at him. A smirk tugs at his lips.
"You're quite charming when you're angry, Dove," Hisoka says, "It's so easy to upset you."
"Don't even try to get yourself out of this. You broke our agreement."
Hisoka's smirk widens. He leans forward, lips brushing against her cheek and ear. Fingers dance along her jaw until he grips it slightly. His breath on her skin raises goosebumps on her neck and arms. "So I did."
Iro bites the inside of her cheek. "Does that mean this is over?"
"Of course not," Hisoka muses. He pulls away slightly, until his nose bumps hers.
Iro's brows furrowed. Pink lips formed a frown. "Then what-"
Hisoka presses his mouth against hers. Some noise comes from Iro's throat, but whether it was surprise or pleasure was unknown to her.
Her nails dig into his arms, but that only brings forth a chuckle from him.
Hisoka had never kissed her before. Another rule of their agreement broken. It isn't like the rough, open mouth kisses he would leave on the inside of her thighs that made her breathless. It isn't urgent and desperate, like when he would sink his teeth into her shoulder after a battle left him hypersensitive. This was soft and slow. His mouth moves against hers almost gently. Iro's hands find their way into his hair, tugging slightly. His grip moves from her jaw to the back of her head, tangling in her hair. Lightning trinkles up her spine and she arches her back at the sensation. She thought she heard a deep groan from Hisoka.
When Hisoka pulls away, he's smirking again. Iro looks up at him, frowning.
"That doesn't explain anything!" she says.
Hisoka idly plays with her hair as he speaks. "I have no plans to end our little agreement. We'll leave as soon as we get the signal. The Troupe isn't interested in you and will never be. Are you satisfied?"
She pushes his chest; he moves back without protest. Her face is hot- his kiss, as enjoyable as it was, didn't quell her anger. "But why are you doing this?"
Hisoka's smirk never falters, and his eyes glitter with a darkness that made her squirm. His voice is low and deep. "You look so tempting tonight. I may visit you once again before dawn."
He turns and walks down the hall, to the living room. Iro grits her teeth. Of course, he didn't explain himself. He rarely did. It drives her mad, the way the magician does whatever he wants whenever he's inclined to.
Her lips are tingling, and she can't help but touch them. What caused him to be so gentle? She can't lie to herself. Hisoka can be gentle when he wants to be, which admittedly, is almost never. She usually chalks it up to him being tired after travelling and fighting so much.
Iro huffs, her hands making fists. Stupid bastard.
She walked into the living room, where Hisoka and his...friends...were staying. The blonde man sits on her couch, and Feitan sits on the ottoman across from him. Hisoka leans against the wall. He flashes her a knowing smirk.
Her blood still boils. But deep down, a part of her knew she was safe, for the moment at least.
"I'm going back to bed. Just," Iro sighs, running her hand through her hair. "lock the door when you guys leave, at least. And don't break anything."
Hisoka speaks before the other two. "Sleep well, Iro," he says. His smirk only widens as she flips him the bird.
She locks her bedroom door behind her. Not that it's going to do her any good if one of those men decided to kill her. She tries to get back to sleep, but she can still feel that she isn't alone in her apartment. That usually made her excited, as it is always Hisoka to come to her door late at night. But now her stomach twists and knots over the meaning of Hisoka's visit. Iro closes her eyes and pulls her blankets up over her head. They'll only be there a few hours, surely. And tomorrow, she will wake up to an empty apartment. And she will open her flower shop, and work on her orders, as she does every day.
Right?