Hi guys. Here I am, with another chapter. I'm really doubtful about this one but I still hope you guys like it. First of all I would like to thank Lyra Klaude, who is literally the best writer I have ever know for advertising this fanfic on tumblr, you're awesome! And a special thanks to KiGaMin for the amazing, amazing reviews. I really hope you like this chapter, this fanfic has been giving me sleepless nights. Anyway, here's an advice, whisper-read the parts written in italic it makes them sound mysterious and creepy. Once again thank you for reading so.. dig in!

Chapter: 3

"Wrangle."

The pitch-black shroud of the night emanated a melted gloom. The inky surroundings when inhaled, suffocated her adrift heart. The wind whispered her unknown words, and the rustling leaves caressed her vapid soul, taking her mind far far back. The moon was a mere scythe, that threatened to cut the attenuated figure of her life. Promptly, if possible, the black aquired a darker shade, leaving her disoriented and unconcious.

Her steps were heavy, but they somehow dissolved into the shadow, and vamoosed with the fluxing coal black breeze.

A slight but intense humming began, which seemed to suck all the breath out of her. Her instinct indicated danger, but her heart was appealed, and tailed the soothingly threatening sound.

The walls were icy, but her palms glued to them, the heat was neither lost, nor absorbed as both the surfaces were deeply frozen.

A screech. A pitch, more painful than nails on a chalk board, an exhale, injured with roughness. The humming would flow away as the howling screech broke its rhythm regularly.

She kept walking. Each pace drew her closer. With each, step, her conscience screamed a bit louder, begging her to stop. Then the soul draining sight, brough her to a halt.

Candles. Blood. The glinting marble, on which each drop oozed in harmony with the other. The sight was blurred. She did not have the strenght to recollect herself. Then the coal black eyes, without any trace of white met hers. The blue, beetle shell gleam they held was like the crecent moon. There was no proof she was alive, for she stood still, her figure showed no sign of life, except the regular blinks that she gave with her thickly lashed eyes.

"You live," said the monstrous voice coming from the little girl's lips. "I don't."

She drew back, her back hitting the wall. Her breathing waved away, her voice was lost.

The little girl moved closer causing the other to slam deeper against the wall. She took her hand in her blood coated palms, with the gentlest touch, like the sweetest lick. Her tiny wrist deeply gashed.

She wanted to protest, she needed to rebel. She wanted to rapidly vanish in the vacant night but her body did not obey the commands her numb brain gave. The circuit was not complete, her head was not connected and her limbs felt lifeless, not her own.

"The accused, takes the blame," said the child smiling, her teeth blood stained. "A murder will be granted, no altering the faith's design," she closed her eyes. "Until the truth is revealed, but the rest is too dark to see, too dark to see," she said frowning.

She screamed. Her throat opposed, but she screamed. Her heart was bursting, her life felt hollow. She pushed her away, her back scratched against the rough surface, but all the pain felt bearable at the moment. "Stay away from me," she said glancing at the sides, searching for an escape."Stay away from me!"

The child's body lifted ever so slightly as her amused expression turned addled. She blinked continously, each time the blue glow shifted slightly higher, until the dark was kneaded by the pale white, that regained its rightful position. The small girl looked disoriended, as if the former actions were not her own. Her eyes demanding, questioning, the reason of the horrified expression that dominated her sister's face. "I'll protect you," she promised, ignorant of the current situation, but the love she felt for her radiated clearly in her soft voice.

Her eyes liquified and she pushed her away. "You're a freak! Stay away from me," she backed away. "You're a monster, you're a monster, go away, don't touch me," her voice almost pleading.

The little girl smiled, as the rejection no longer hurt. "I'll protect you, you will live," and just like that her eyes shut and she dropped to the ground. Her expression was peaceful as she restored dominance of her own conscience.

Fuck. The one term which can always help you express your inner shit. Fuck, perfect for every occasion. Lost your keys? Fuck. Found your keys? Fuck. Got grounded? Fuck. Got ungrounded? Fuck some more. Just had sex? Fuck. Being a random, sick of life, teenage mediocre, fuck. The word was royal, very offhand.

I lightly rubbed my eyes as I stuffed my books in my bag after the lunch bell.

"Claire? Are you coming?" Nora asked in another one of her attempts to drag me to the cafetaria.

Shut the fuck up and get lost. "Nah, you go on ahead," I said faking a smile.

She nodded and walked away.

I sighed. Thursdays made me feel like my skeletal arrangements had been altered into those of a marshmellow. There was a whole hour of P.E, which meant that I had to come up with a better excuse to skip through it, than the last one. I wasn't a gym person, but the main reason was that I was somehow always targeted by the douge ball, or whatever sport material available, like the bull and the red cape.

Most of my aimless life's miseries began at the mid term of the fifth grade. The day I turned eleven, my mom started to sign me up for after school activities as the nerd germs were starting to show. She stubbornly got me into the school's play on Dante Alighieri's novel, but that was until my stage phobia was poked to life, five minutes into the opening song and I threw up, gaining myself a severe number of haters and ruining-the-moment gurdges.

When I was thirteen, I was the only girl in my grade who had braces and didn't wear a bra, which dramatically decreased my already zero popularity level, I fell down during volley ball and tennis try outs and I was one of the five girls who didn't make it in the cheer leading team.

The only thing I was good at, was reading and minor technology matters, but nobody handed out prizes or rewards for that. So, after going through two straight years of trying and failing, in and out and good but not good enough, my mom gave up and good heartedly accepted the fact that she would never get the chance to applaude along with the audience at her daughter's first play, or ballet recitals, or anything else related to that category as a matter of fact, and settled in for supporting me in being who I was, a nobody.

I stood up, staring confusingly at the set of bright blue eyes infront of me. I blinked twice, and he did the same.

I raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Killua winced and shook his head. "Nothing," he sighed. "I couldn't make it to my literature class this morning because I got lost," he said in a business like manner, like it was my fault.

I snorted. "So?"

He raised an eyebrow. "So, the staff administrator told me to ask someone to show me around."

"So?" I challenged.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "So, if your hoe-iness would please do the honours."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes. "No, no, no, there is no way..." I stopped at mid-sentence as it struck my brain. "Wait, could you get me excused for the next period?" P.E, I could skip P.E. My voice got sugar coated on its own.

He cocked him head a bit. "Maybe."

"Then what are we waiting for?" I grinned and took his hand dragging him to the corridor.

He rolled his eyes. "You're a demon."

"Show me your schedule." I said holding out my hand.

He dug a hand in his pocket and took out a small parchment, handing it to me.

I examined it briefly. "Okay," I walked forward, as he followed.

I could barely hear him walking behind me, like his feet never made contact with the floor, and I continuously glanced back, just to make sure he was still there.

I showed him the classes, the detention room, and the science labs, merely earning bored and dull nods.

"You know, for a guy who shits more with his mouth than the ass, you're awfully quiet sometimes," I murmured as we walked past the corridor.

"I must say, your attempts at starting a normal conversation are quite peculiar," he said in a bored voice.

"You're implying?"

"If a natter is what you want, you should ask nicely."

I snorted. "Okay, where is he? I'll ask him right away."

He rolled his eyes. "How humorous," he mumbled.

"Well, pardon me for failing to entertain someone having the wit of a seventy-year old," I huffed.

He chuckled. "It's sad, seeing you trying to use your whole vocabulary in a single sentence."

I glared and sticked my tongue out at him, but in the middle of the act I stumbled on my own feet and almost fell, until he hurriedly caught my elbow.

He helped me up. "By the way you walk, I'd compare you to a handicapped penguin," his eyes teasing. "Or a whale with feet," he said thoughtfully.

I scowled at him. "Shut up. I don't walk funny."

"I didn't say that, you just have a very distinctive plod."

I sighed. It was still unknown from who I had inherited my balance problems. "Wipe your mouth Killua, I think there's a tiny bit of bullshit on your lips," I mumbled.

He snickered and shook his head. When we reached the end of the hall he stopped infront of a beige painted wooden door, like it was familiar to him.

I looked between him and the door once, a bit perplexed. "This is Mr. Isawa's office, he's our philosophy lecturer, but he's not taking over until next..." I began explaining.

"Kiyeshi Isawa," he said, not as a question, but as a confirmation.

All I could do was nod.

For a brief moment I saw Killua's eyes harden, until he masked them with an unammused look. In the next second he was turning the knob with an exteremely casual look on his face.

"What are you doing?" my voice a bit hysteric.

"It's locked," he said seriously.

"Yeah, why?"

He tried the knob one more time and peeked through the key hole.

I glanced once at the revolving security camera and wondered if we'd get caught for bunkers if it spotted us, then again even if we did, the sexy looking bastard could get us out no problem. I blinked, and just as I parted my lips to speak, the bell rang.

He looked up and then at me. His gaze was so intense I had to look away. He took out his cell phone and glanced once at the screen, checking the time maybe. "I have to go," he said.

"Okay," was all I could manage to say. I was surprised at myself, at how those words weren't as good as they sounded, why didn't I want him to leave? I watched him as he walked away.

Suddenly he stopped and turned back. "Claire."

It was the first time he had ever said my name, I felt butterflies in my stomach. Did it always sound that grand or just coming from him? "Yeah?" I breathed.

"Thanks," his voice tender and genuine, like he really meant it.

I just nodded, even though I had no idea what he thanked me for, lacking the breath to do anything else. My brain was jammed, like cheese and gravy coated. I spun around and walked on, wondering if waving him off like he usually did would make me look cool and casual, and immediately dropped the thought remembering how poised I actually was, and what were the chances of that looking hot with me doing it, I had to admit, he had the ass for the back poses.

"Fine," I said to the librarian as she handed me the library keys, after she told me I was assigned the duty of oraganizing the library this month, and most probably the months after, which basically meant I had to spend an extra half an hour at school, making sure all the books were in the right places, or simply fuck. Eight manure coated classes plus a royal bonus of extra work, splendid, I absolutely loved this year.

"Don't lose them," she warned in her rough voice.

How shitfully polite of you to hand down your work to me and then even have the fucking guts to comment on it. "Okay."

She threw me one last deterrent glance and then disappeared.

As soon as she was out of sight I sticked my tongue out in her direction. "Bitch," I almost bawled.

Her head popped out near the door frame again. "Did you say something?" she asked lowering her huge glasses down to her nose.

My eyes widened. "No.", I said convincingly shaking my head.

She seemed to buy that as she nodded and strode away.

I shook my head and heaved a huge sigh, I was such an idiot. Counting the mess of opuses on the table, I arranged them alphabetically. These were the kind of troubles you faced if you were an unsocial freak, I was some kind of a school drudge.

There are simply two ways you live life, either you have a life and you have to fake smiles to people you don't like, have sex in bathrooms and always somehow lose count of how many boys you had a potent physical interaction with, or you don't have a life and you never get noticed by people enough to fake them smiles, you secretly read books in the bathroom while hearing the moans and gasps of the sexually occupied and you are, most embarassingly a kissing virgin.

"You dropped these," an unexpectedly familiar voice whispered in my ear as the owner's hand presented me the keys of the library, which I had just been handed.

I got starteled and took an involuntary step back, accidentally stepping on his foot. "Bah."

"Ouch," Killua said backing away.

I turned to him. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, really, did that, did that hurt?"

"No, not at all, I'm on local anesthesia, why don't you try that again?" he said rolling his eyes.

I smacked his shoulder.

He winced. "What?"

"Shut up, why do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

I shrugged. "I don't know... pop out of no where," I said gesturing with my hands.

"Actually, you're always so lost in thought its easy for anyone to be mistaken for houdini by you, you're extremely unobservant," he shrugged.

I rolled my eyes. "Shock me Killua, say something intelligent."

"Even if I did, how would you know?" he said, imitating me.

"You're such a moron."

"I know you are, but what am I?" he smirked.

"Wow, your mother must be so proud."

"Oh, yeah, you have no idea."

I pursed my lips and smiled. "I don't mean to be rude, but shut up and fuck you," I said handing him a set of books and baconed him to follow me. If all he really was going to do was piss me off, he could do it along with something productive.

He rolled his eyes and walked behind me.

I took a book from his hand and placed it in the shelf and kept walking. "So, why are you here anyway?" I asked half annoyed, half something else I failed to identify.

"I.." he said looking uncomfortable. "Brought you lunch," he said pointing to the table at the center of the room.

I followed his gaze where a wrapped up sandwitch and water bottle were sitting inertly. "What?" I said looking between him and the food. "Wha, why?" I felt some part of my heart melt and come back to life. Oh my gosh, what was this boy doing to me? And why the hell was he doing it to me? Was it possible, did I? Could I? Like him? Why would a guy like him, ever notice whether a girl like me, did or didn't eat anything. I shook my head. I needed to say something that made it sound blasé, but my emotionally sensitive side was kicking to life.

Ofcourse he had to ruin it all with the next words that came out of his mouth. "To stuff in the public toilets, they're out of shit," he said annoyed.

I sighed. Crap will always be crap, until it turns into shit, that was where he came in.

"You can say it, you know," he said after a few minutes of silence.

"Say what?"

"That you hate me."

"I don't hate you Killua."

"You don't?" he asked bewildered.

"No, I don't, I'm just not necessarily excited or pleased with your existence, that's all," I shrugged. "Which, I guess is the same thing, oh, hey wait, I do hate you," I said, a smile in my voice.

He rolled his eyes. "That could change, you know." he said as he followed.

"I'm positively sure it couldn't, you have a shit of a personality."

"And that's bad?"

"No, shit's not bad, it's good, and so is your personality, just... not for a human being, which makes me wonder, as an outsider what do you think of the human race?"

He raised an eyebrow, which already prepared me to expect one of his shitty comebacks. "I would ask you the same thing, but first tell me, how long have you had the delusion of being human?" he said smirking.

I glared at him. "Bastard."

He chuckled. He had a charming laugh, not that I liked it or anything.

Both of us remained silent, he would only hand me the books and I would place them quietly.

"Where did you live before?" I had no idea why I asked him that, somehow silence with him around just did not get to me.

"Aiden," he mumbled quickly, clearly unconfortable.

"Where's that?"

"Gorteau."

"Why did you come here?" why did you ask that?

He remained silent, which made me worry a bit about being too nosey.

"I mean, at the second year of college, like dropping in mid semester and.." make it casual, make it casual. Oh, wait, you suck at that.

"I have personal reasons," he said seriously.

I dropped my gaze, unsuccessfully ignoring the embarassment that was flooding in. Why did I always have to do that? Why did I always try to make this-is-not-going-anywhere conversations with him?

"Is the weather always like this here?" fake curiousity was thick in his voice as he lamely tried to change the subject.

"Yeah," I said, my voice a bit shaky due to the lump in my throat.

The bell rang pushing aside a very awkward conversation.

I took the books from his hand. "Thanks," I said and walked to the desk only to see that Killua hadn't moved an inch. "What?" I asked him.

He furrowed his eyebrows, like he was trying to pick out the right words. "Can I walk you home?"

I shot up my eyebrows. A wrangle started in my brain, as one part of my mind wanted to know where I had left my book of ultimate excuses, while the other was begging me to agree. I blinked. "That's a very... unforseen question, I mean coming from you," I concluded.

"Is that a yes?"

"Technically.. no."

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"No," I crossed my arms on my chest.

"Yes?"

"No."

"Yes?"

"No!" my voice got louder.

"No?"

"Yes!" I shouted. "I mean no! Fuck you!"

"Yes?", he smirked.

"Yes, yes, yes you whore, yes, walk me home!" I hollered, breathing heavily.

His raised his hands signaling me to stop, his smirk fixed at its place. "Okay, okay, calm down, If it means that much to you, I'll walk you home," he rolled his eyes.

My chest rapidly moved in and out and I rubbed my face, closing my eyes. Major temper complications. "Idiot," I said gritting my teeth.

I heard him chuckle, ammused, I supposed. "You coming?"

"Get lost, I am."

I shook my head, in an attempt to clear it up a bit. I was emphatically sure now that there were only two reasons why I would die, either out of a caridiac arrest of how he suddenly appeared out of nowhere or out of a brain hemorrhage due to these meaningless and idiotic wrangles which were a result of his bitch-ish poking.

"Asshole," I muttered under my breath and strode out of the room with heavy steps. Nope it couldn't be, I was wrong. I absolutely did not like him.

My heart still burning, yet the emotions get drier

I feel consumed, as my destiny is this fire.