Accident #3: Death To Delabost!

I wrote a book.

Yes, you read right. I wrote a book. After being dumped for a big-breasted, make-up slathered older woman, I spent the following months working, working and working my broken-hearted self off. And it didn't take long before the big shots noticed me and my writing skills that, according to them, "surpassed that of a tabloid's". I was given the opportunity to become an author.

I made it.

Now here I am: an established, well-known author for writing my inspirational book entitled, "How I Survived: To Hell And Back". I poured out with all my heart the aches and grief I experienced just by merely loving someone deeply. I recalled every moment that seemed to last forever. I wrote about Shai. I wrote about Cutie Biatch-I mean-Beauty. I wrote about Shai and me. I wrote about Shai and Cutie Beauty. I wrote about us. I wrote about how there was no more us.

It became a New York Times bestseller.

Critics praised my choice of words, the flow of my true-to-life novel. Teenagers felt the "feels" as they would like to call it, saying that it was more emotional than "The Fault In Our Stars" or any other novel they have read. Adults were seen purchasing my book, even asking for a sequel.

It wasn't long before the media caught into the craze. Huge production companies were offering me the chance to turn my book into a movie. Once the pathetic nobody of a trashy tabloid department, I am now being hoarded by interviewers and cameras everywhere I go. Yet, all their questions seemed to be the same.

"How did you survive through such an unfair, devastating heartbreak?"

I would always take my sunglasses off, raise an eyebrow and flash my questioners a dazzling smile that seemed to say, "How did I, indeed?" The media would usually

suck it up, commend me on having such a positive, radiant aura and answer their own questions themselves.

"See that, ladies and gentlemen? With that wonderful smile and glowing spirit, how can we even doubt her strength?"

"Ms. Erena should be a prime example for all the ladies out there: that no matter how much suffering you go through, you must believe that you can overcome it."

"As our gorgeous author here seems to say: when you've been hurt, cry a river, burn bridges and write a successful book about it!"

"That Shai surely doesn't know what he just let go of! With a beautiful face and an even more beautiful character, Ms. Shimabukuro will surely rank high in this year's

Most Desired Bachelorettes yet again."

Today is just like any other day. Sitting on a plush chair, I sign copy after copy of my book for the Book Signing. My fans, the "Erenators", as they would like to call themselves, were very eager: they make me sign not only their books, but also their shirts, bracelets, arms and wrists. Most would cry and hug me as if I was their long-lost mother whenever we'd take selfies. Still, it was fun. I found it fun.

"...underwear." I heard a voice say while I was busy signing my name on a book copy.

"Yep, say what?" I replied absent-mindedly, still not looking up from what I was signing on. "Do you have any other items you wish for me to sign on...or to give to you,Sir?"

I then proceeded to sign on a white shirt that was laid out in front of me.

"...UNDERWEAR," The man's voice repeated clearer. "Your UNDERWEAR." A mocking smirk followed the man's words.

I gasped and dropped the black marker I was holding. "Excuse ME?"

"I really did not miscalculate when I judged you to be as slow-witted as you look,"the man said in calm arrogance. "I have been trying to tell you this for the third time in a row, Miss GREEN-BUTTERFLIES-PANTIES."

I stood up, embarrassment making me burn from my face to my neck. How dare this perverted fiddlesticks of a man call himself a fan and actually, SHAMELESSLY

attend one of my book signings just to disrespect ME?

I was about to hurl my black marker at him in anger when I felt something vibrate beside me.

" Glad to see that your phone jolted your senses back."

~O~O~O~O~

The man sighed and tilted his head at me. In boredom or in amusement, I can't seem to read into him.

"So you can put yourself in a trance-like, daydreaming state easily even if you're standing up, completely wide awake?" The man half-smirked. "Interesting ability. I see I couldn't blame your lover for seeking someone more...attentive."

Squinting my eyes in dreamy confusion, I realized three things:

(1) I wasn't seated on a plush, comfortable seat. I was standing up, back hitting the shower's button.

(2) I wasn't in a Book Signing. I wasn't being trailed by camera men or people from the media. There were no critics, no fans. There, in an enclosed space, was me. Me and a man.

(3) I wasn't with a man I knew. In fact, it was my first time seeing this grey-eyed stranger who was still tilting his head at me. I have to admit though, squinting my dark brown eyes more, that this man didn't look bad at all. In fact, I found myself appreciating the way his jet-black hair fell over his bandaged forehead, the weird emerald earrings that just seemed to compliment his fair skin further, the way his lips quirked in a half-smirk as if he knew what I was thinking and...

"Impressive how you easily fawn over other men when it has only been an hour and a half since your previous lover cheated on you. You really do live up to your

nickname, don't you?"

Now I don't know about you, but that sentence full of calm mockery is more than enough for reality to slap me awake in the face. I let out an "Eeep!", realizing that my back was pressing the shower button lightly enough to produce drizzles and droplets.

Good thing I wasn't soaked wet, but crap, I still got wet spots here and there. It might be my back that hit the shower, but if it wasn't for this rude, RUDE man interrupting me for fixing up my clothes, nothing of this disastrous sort would have happened.

"You balls on a HEIFER!" I shouted, outraged in remembering everything that went down for tonight. "Not only are you a perverted man who likes barging in women's

stalls, but you're also a sadistic, unfeeling-HMPH!"

I felt a hand cover my mouth.

Gray eyes narrowed at me.

"Quiet, mess-maker" The man said sternly, making me gulp in response.

"You're attracting the attention of the papparazzi."

I meant to say a "Huh" but all that came out was a muffled "Mrowr?"

"For the record, evading a frustrating papparazzi with an equally frustrating stranger was not part of my schedule for tonight, " the man explained in a low voice, as if he was talking to a little kid. "However, nosy, assuming women seem to take desperate measures to merely have me. I am a man of privacy, respect and authority, Miss Mess-Maker. I don't allow this which caused me to take this course of action."

Still covering my hand, he patiently went on. " You, on the other hand, made quite a shameful show back at the restaurant its owner had to prohibit you three from

stepping again into not only the restaurant, but its nearby partner hotel as well. Apparently, you were too absorbed in with your broken-hearted self to understand, for you are now here, in the VIP men's bathroom. How you slipped in here unnoticed by the guards is a confusing matter, but I couldn't care less. I do care, however, that you are a non-VIP member of this hotel, not to mention the female that was personally thrown out by one of the owners a while ago."

"Weye wu! (Yeah, right!)" I responded, narrowing my eyes at him. "Likum guwuntu bilibu. Dagu ma jusi u akulish furulunu! (Like I'm going to believe you. That guy might just be your accomplice for all I know!)" Glaring at him, I tried prying his hand away from my mouth.

As if the heavens were tired of my pathetic muffling-and-prying-the-hand-off theatrics, I heard a phone ring outside and a man's voice clear his throat before answering it. I then heard one of the stall's doors opening...then it closed.

It was definitely another guy.

My shoulders sagged in defeat. You've humiliated yourself again, Erena. Looks like this gray-eyed know-it-all is right.

"Yeah, I'm currently in the hotel, in the men's bathroom. Hey, hey, Aoki-kun, can you call Miss Bisky for confirmation? I think I've kinda missed out on Mr. Chrollo's

whereabouts at the moment. My GPS is lagging and malfunctioning like crazy. And I kinda...like...deleted my copy of Miss Sakaamoto's message. Yeah, yeah, don't

worry! She won't get mad. Miss Bisky's my BFF, hehehe! Oi,call me back ASAP, okay?"

Typical old-geezer Leorio, I laughed mentally. Count on him to forget important details and use his "I'm-Miss-Bisky's-BFF" skills to talk his way out of-

The hand covering my mouth didn't stop me from emitting a gasp of realization.

Leorio, it's freakin' LEORIO who's outside our stall! And if I heard his phone call correctly...the members from the other team have arrived already.

I can't help gasping in horror again even though it always comes out muffled.

"FRUZU FULIN DOGUMI (FRAZZLIN' FRANKLIN DADGUMMIT!)!" I cursed, not caring if the man in front of me would understand it or not. They're already starting the

interview, the PROMOTION INTERVIEW, without me! I've been waiting for this months, years even...and now I would miss out on this WHOLE OPPORTUNITY just

because I got cheated on, I was kicked out of a very elite establishment, I stumbled inside the VIP men's bathroom and I was being held captive by an unknown man

who's got papparazzi phobia?

The man in front of me, however, mistook my gasps for agreement, because he let go of my mouth and chuckled lightly, saying, "It wasn't that hard to accept that you're the one who barged in the wrong room, right?"

He half-smiled then, and for a moment I was taken aback by the sudden blinding charm from him. Like whoa, where did the smirking devil seconds ago disappear to?

"I...apologize for any distress I might be causing you. I am not at ease with this situation either, but if you would only lay low and stay quiet until the papparazzi outside is gone, it would save us both the trouble of being caught. After all, we're both...avoiding certain people, aren't we?"

I would have believed his apology if it wasn't for his arched eyebrow and half-smirk that seemed to say, "Took you long enough. Knew you would see things MY way

eventually. Ha. HA!"

I tried so hard not to let a vein pop out of my forehead, nodding sullenly instead as he coolly backed away from me and leaned into another corner of the stall, crossing his arms and closing his eyes as if, snap! Just like that, he looks so undisturbed and he's off to Yoga land now.

Gya. He looks so full of himself. Getting cozy as if he's the boss of everything and everyone around him! Just wait until I-

As if he can see that I was glaring at him, the man lazily opened one gray eye to look at me.

"I am flattered that you can't tear your eyes away from me since we met, although you're not one of the first women to. However, in regards to any...plots you may be laying out in your head, I say don't even think about it."

He then closed his eyes as if he didn't talk at all.

I scoffed audibly in disgust. "UGH," I whispered to myself. "Ugh-squared, ugh-cubed, UGH to the hundredth power!"

I so want this obnoxious guy out of my stall, then out of my LIFE. While he may be deemed attractive in everyone, especially in women's eyes, SERIOUSLY. Usually, I

would be cordial, thrilled, genuinely FRIENDLY with people I meet for the first time, being the aspiring journalist I was, but with this guy? It's like without even using words, he's lording his superiority in every way over people. And he wasn't even the least bit of discreet or polite about it! Why, only a few seconds of running into him he was smirking non-stop at me, insulting me with only a sentence or a facial expression and even dared to cover my mouth to shut me up and follow him.

And the most unbearable fact about this situation is, why, oh, WHY in Aunt Bessie's name am I FOLLOWING HIM?

You gotta admit, he had you there with his deep, commanding, maybe even seductive voice-

I widened my eyes in horror. No way, no way in all the saints' names, am I going to indulge in the direction of these...IMPURE thoughts!

Oh, c'mon, you had goosebumps all over your arms when he put his hand over your mouth, right? Don't goosebumps only appear when-

Holy SCHNIKES, Erena, I scolded myself. You should be planning how to escape him, not how to bone him!

And your heart's still beating pretty fast too. I won't be suprised if it's one of the reasons he was smirking non-stop all a-

A toilet's flush was heard outside, followed by the sound of a stall's door opening and a phone ringing.

"But Ma'am Bisky, can we at least wait for ten more minutes? I really don't want to start the promotion interview without Erena! Um, yeah...yeah, I was actually calling her for the past thirty minutes already, but she's not answering. Eh? No, she'll pick up soon, I'm sure of it!"

FUDGE, I thought, biting my lip to contain the urge to scream at my forgetfulness. How can I forget about Leorio being outside our stall at this VERY moment?

"I'll keep on calling her, Ma'am Bisky! So please, can you tell your, uh, boss buddies there to wait a while? In fact, I'll actually start searching for Erena~chan right now, since I'm almost done freshening up! Yes...yes...thirty minutes?"

The sound of the faucet being turned on, then off, made color drain out of my face. Anytime soon, Leorio will be leaving for the promotion interview.

Don't tell me you're just gonna freaking leaving me here! I wanted to shout.

But then again, he doesn't know you're trapped in there, idiot. Trapped until he actually LEAVES.

"Eh? Ten minutes only? But what if Erena doesn't make it in...fifteen minutes more, please, Ma'am Bisky?"

I didn't have to go outside to know that Leorio was bargaining again with Miss Bisky, this time for my promotional chance. In other circumstances, I would have laughed out of gratitude, but all I could tell myself mentally was, "Come on, COME ON Erena Shimabukuro! Surely some of Illumi Onii-sama and Killua's smarts should have rubbed off on you by now. You've got the same MOTHER, for Jehosafat's SAKE!"

"Fifteen minutes it is! I'll go back to calling her after this. I'll definitely BRING her back there in TIME. Yeah, yeah, don't worry about her. Ma'am Bisks!"

He'll "go back " to calling me? Then does that mean Leorio was calling me all this time? Then why is my phone not ringing out loud its usual...

OH.

"Yeah, bye Ma'am Bisky! I'm off to find Erena."

If Leorio would go back to calling me after Ma'am Bisky's phone call, just like he said he would...

Thumbing discreetly through my phone's Settings, I pressed the "Vibration:OFF" button and clicked the "Ringing:ON" . I gave the man at the corner a sideways glance.

What the...was he SLEEPING? And what's with those more-beautiful-than-a-lady's eyelashes?

Too bad they'll be soaked with tears of humiliation after this.

I contained the urge to shake him awake and boastfully wave my phone in front of his face.

"YO-SHI." Taking a deep breath and making it look like I was just innocently fiddling with my phone, I raised my phone's ringtone volume to "MAXIMUM".

And Ling Xiaoyu's Arranged OST from the "Tekken 3" video game shattered the bathroom's silence.

TENTENENTENTENENENTENENTENTENTENENENENTENEN-

My ringtone was too loud, I would have dropped my phone if I wasn't so focused on getting out of this stall and into the interview venue. However, before I could even make a dash for the door's handle, I felt my phone wretched out of my hand and a body pushing me backwards to where I previously stood.

"MY PHONE!" I gasped, seeing the screen's light go out due to hitting the floor. I instantly reached out to save it from any further damage but I felt quick, strong hands hold my wrists up above my head. I gritted my teeth as I felt the evil mystery man secure me against him, obviously reading through my plan this entire time.

"Wait a minute...Erena?" I heard Leorio call outside. Based on the echoes of his voice, he's probably at the bathroom's door now, maybe debating whether he should go back to check or not.

"Leo-AH!" I was cut off when the man pushed me back so hard I hit the shower button again. This time, though, it wasn't just a droplet or two that poured out. It was a full-blown SHOWER.

"W-what the...w-h-what the-" The water hitting my face interrupted any swear words I wanted to shout at him. "S-stop, get off ME! I'm getting W-BLURB!" Some

amount of water made its way into my mouth, making me squint my eyes and spit it out.

"You had just confirmed my earlier suspicions," the man towering over me spoke flatly, his face devoid of any emotion even if he was also being hit by the water. "The man out there, according to my secretary's previous background check, is a writer from a trashy tabloid that consists of thirsty, low-class papparazzis. The kind of people who are willing to sacrifice anything to invade others' privacy and make money out of it."

"Y-you!" I whisper-shouted shakily due to the cold water. "Y-you were supposed to be s-sleeping! Y-you were s-supposed to be caught off-guard and-"

Whatever retort I had in my mind was forgotten as he leaned his forehead close to mine. Not because it was supposedly a romantic gesture, or his face was too

appealing to handle, even more with his hair now wet-it was because his gray eyes looked cutting cold and black all of a sudden, it made me shudder.

Was he...was he...ANGRY or something?

"Hello, is anyone there? Erena?" Leorio was still calling out. "Strange. I thought I heard her phone just now...Erena~chan? Shimabukuro~chan?"

"Your...department was chasing me for as long as I can remember," the man leaning over me was saying in my ear, drowning out Leorio's voice and the sound of water.

"And while they have conducted little interviews with my staff here and there, they were not contented until it was me they interviewed personally. Your kind doesn't seem to know how to take "no" for an answer, don't you?"

Our kind? Why is he emotionlessly droning on as if we were a different species from him? If only his mouth wasn't so close to my ear, I definitely would have sworn a

comeback at him! All I managed to get out, though, was a weak, "What?"

"It was played out well. But no need to pretend anymore that you have stumbled through this bathroom and ran into me accidentally. The man out there is your

accomplice, right? If money is the only answer you two shameless third-rate stalking journalists accept, then let me be your guest."

"S-shameless?" Blurb. "THIRD-RATE?" Who does this man think he IS? Heck, I don't know his name and here he goes, accusing us of acting like psycho stalkers

whose worlds revolve around him? It was even my first time seeing that (drop-dead gorgeous) face! And how can he berate us, DEMEAN us for doing what we love for a living, which is writing and interviewing people-even if it's hard? When I bet his buttspatula he's one of those lazy caddywhompuses in a suit who does nothing but prop their feet on a table and order coffee all day!

I didn't realize I was blabbing it all out loud until my mouth accumulated so much water, I noisily choked and gagged on it.

The arrogant man in front of me didn't seem to mind though, even if we were getting soaked to the bone and I was almost dying from his over-closeness and the

continuous flow of water. He just raised an eyebrow, as if all of these was normal stuff for him.

"Now I don't have the faintest idea of what a... 'caddywhompus' may be, but I perfectly know a papparazzi and his tricks by heart." The man tilted his head to the side, his intense eyes seemingly straying away to a certain memory. For some unknown reason, I felt my heart beat faster. Even though I can't decode what or who is he remembering exactly, the emotion in those gray orbs, even for just a split-second, tugged at some of my heartstrings.

Sadness. Grief. Sorrow. How can supposedly simple gray eyes reflect so much emotion in them and yet...

Coldness. Apathy. Mockery. And yet...swiftly return to its darker intensity as if everything I saw was just a trick of the mind?

"H-h-hey," I awkwardly managed to get out in a whisper. I really don't want to sound like I was pitying him, since he looked like one of those snappy people who don't want sympathy, but blast it, my voice failed me. "I-I can't help but notice t-that you got all,um, how d-do you say this...edgy when you found out I'm a journalist."

I slightly swallowed in an attempt to calmly ask the million-dollar question. "Did, uh...something happen between my, um, fellow journalists and you?"

My question might have broken his trance, for he looked straight at me. Maybe even a little too straight. His penetrating eye contact was making me flinch from head-to-toe.

I expected him to smash me into the wall for my too-personal question, or maybe kick me out of the stall because I was being this privacy-invading stranger, but he didn't do anything along those lines.

Instead, he laughed.

The man laughed silently, which then quickly faded into a snicker.

I was too stunned at this man's bipolar tendencies to notice that his laugh didn't have any genuine HUMOR to it.

"While I don't understand your nosiness about this particular subject, I should clear out to you that nothing happened to you that...nothing happened between your fellow journalists and me."

The man's tone dropped flat, now sounding dead serious. Goosebumps re-appeared on my arms.

"However, everything happened between your fellow journalists and them."

The way he pronounced the word "them" increased the goosebumps on my arms, but unlike before, it wasn't a pleasant feeling you can drown in.

"Your kind is willing to go through all lengths and means for cold, hard cash, am I not right?"

The corners of the man's mouth turned up into an unfeeling half-smirk. I felt my stomach drop at the sight of it.

Oh, why am I not surprised that I treaded on dangerous waters with the million-dollar question. Guess I triggered more of this man's bipolar side, no doubt about it.

You brought this on yourself AGAIN, Erena. NOW GET THE SCHNIKES OUT OF IT.

"Then allow me to give you what you TRULY came here for."

Before my fight-or-flight mode even kicked on, a pair of lips came crashing down on my own.

My eyes widened into saucers as I felt myself being pushed even further, if possible, to the wall. Automatically, I struggled against the man in a desperate attempt to save my first kiss from turning out into this. Into anything but this.

But I guess the heavens were too busy to notice or were just so amused at watching the sudden escalation of events.

The man thwarted my attempts with his dominant strength and size, making my efforts laughable. My arms were secured above my head, the joints there aching from the awkward position. My nails were gripping into my palms, it won't be suprising if I draw blood any minute now. My breath was coming in muffled gasps, gasps that seemed to sound farther and farther away from my ears.

My first kiss.

There was no warmth in the man's kiss, although I felt my lips burning in response to his. Completely ignoring my whimpers of protest, he ravaged my lips. I felt his

tongue invade my mouth smoothly, forcing and demanding me to submission. Unsure of what to do, I let my tongue tangle with his, my whole body trembling as I did so.

My first kiss.

"H-h-AH!"

He gripped my arms up tighter, making me cry out in pain. His other hand ran its fingers insultingly over my body, squeezing and poking my breasts as if it was nothing more than mere toys. His lips continued punishing me for a heavy reason I don't even understand. He kept on biting my lower lip, gasps of surprise seemingly spurning him on more as he pulled my hips and moved against me.

My head started to spin. I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut just so everything will make sense, but I can't take my half-lidded eyes off of the man's sharp, calculating

gaze. His eyes were open the whole time, unflinching, taking in every inch of my face. I felt myself drowning into its calm, gentle depths-something that his lips and

fingers don't agree with. Water droplets fell from my eyes. Vaguely, I realized that they weren't water droplets-they were tears.

My first kiss.

I felt his long, slender fingers touch my denim pants unzipping it and probing inside. My body kept on burning up and trembling, as if encouraging his ministrations.

Something soft came in heated contact with my underwear as the man bit down hard on my lower lip once again, tearing out the first-ever moan I have let out my whole life.

"Now listen well, and listen good, Miss Mess Maker," the man's composed voice whispered into my ear. "No matter how many times you and your disgraceful scraps of fellow journalists plead, beg and spread those unsatisfying legs for me, nothing will happen. There will be no interview. Not now. Not ever."

The man pulled away then, and stared at me as if I was nothing more than a speck of dirt he was finally finished dusting off.

"I suggest that for once, you take my word for it. Go back to your establishment, pack your belongings and quit this task and position altogether. I have no doubts that the money would suffice for what you're truly after."

I didn't even bother to check my unbuttoned pants for confirmation that he put Jenni bills almost inside my underwear. Exactly the way men put it when they just got

entertained by some cheap, eager prostitute. I tried ignoring the taste of my tears as it rolled down on my cheeks.

"From experience, I do know that the likes of you do not give up easily. I should just reiterate, however, " the man went on casually, so casually that it made my throat hurt from holding back my disarrayed emotions. "That if I see you or your posse around anyone from the Genei Ryodan...well, I think I should be generous enough to let you finish that particular sentence."

The man closed his eyes, a mocking snicker escaping from his smirking lips. "Here's to never meeting again, my little Mess Maker."

With a face that looked more undisturbed and controlled than ever, the man strode gracefully out of the stall, out of the bathroom and out of plain sight. If this was a

normal situation, I would have commented on his cliche choices of saying goodbye, but to be honest, I can't even THINK or FEEL right now.

~O~O~O~O~

In just our first and last encounter, Mr. Gray-Eyes-With-Forehead-Bandage-On destroyed my pride in my work, my virginity and my completely being a female, into

RUINS.

Unbelievable, I know. Surprising? Not much. Unforgivable...holy hornswaggling YES.

There was no tenderness, no pleasure whatsoever in what he did. In what he stole. Not to mention that the man didn't have enough bellsie-ballsies on him to actually

apologize, own up, or...I don't know...maybe at LEAST make sure I was ALRIGHT?

I shakily tried to rub off the previous overwhelming sensation on my lips, not caring if it would bruise harder. My face still felt like they were in flames, but it's nothing

compared to the sudden throbbing I was feeling somewhere in my...

Gasping in revulsion, I squeezed my eyes shut, put my hands over my head in a classical "I-think-I've-gone-insane-now-but-not-fully" pose, I shouted the comebacks I was too chickenshite to tell Mr. Bandages when he was still inside the stall, the last of it being,

"Listen to me WELLER, and listen to me BETTER, bandaged freak! You ain't seen the last of this woman. I will DEFINITELY finish that sentence of yours because I'll

make sure I have whooped that perfect jaw back to 2012 you won't even get a vowel letter OUT! "

I stomped my feet hysterically while screaming and punching my fist towards the ceiling.

"YOU will be the one to FIDDLESTICKS off, you MOTHER. FIDDLE. STICKER!"

Author's Corner: I was supposed to upload this four days ago but with a laptop-hogging uncle now living temporarily with us and unexpected girls' day out moments with my BFF/cousin who I rarely get to spend time with the past few months...sometimes, you must sacrifice things. *dramatic music plays* x)

So there it goes, my first-ever attempt at writing lime! Didn't expect the citrus coming, didn't ya? Well, I honestly didn't either. I kept on facepalming and burying my face in my hands the whole time I was editing it. Like, I CAN'T. I JUST CAN'T. Hahaha! Good thing our perverted redhead helped me when it comes to ideas,lol! ;D xD

Hisoka: *smirking* Anytime, Author-chan~ You know I appreciate helping others in need, especially in these kind of things~

Author: *sweatdrops* 'These' kind of things, eh. Oh, well, I'm sure the readers wouldn't like to elaborate on what are those, so let's just-

Hisoka: I prefer to say it's the opposite. *closes eyes * Aren't readers more interested whenever a sexual encounter happens and the man takes control by using his~

Author: *covering her ears in complete embarrassment* HOLY SHITLINGS, HISO-KUN! I KNEW GETTING YOU AS MY BETA READER WAS A MISTAKE!

Anyway, it seems like Chrollo here's got a thing going against dem journalists, eh? I wonder what you guys think so far. Reviews are highly (desperately, lol) welcome! Theme song for this chapter is: "About The Boy" by Little Mix. About this chapter's title, I like it myself, personally speaking. Delabost is the surname of the guy who made the first-ever official bathroom shower (I read it on Wiki, just Google it there) and since these two frisky weirdos had their fun in the shower... look what I came up with,hihi! ;)

'Til the next chapter, Hunters. :)))