I am baaack. Sorry for the ridiculously long delay and I have honestly no explanation for it but I'm pretty sure you're not here to read that even if I had one.
Briefly putting it, what gave me the motivation to complete this chapter was the awesome review that twilightfreak9075 left, thank you so much for that! My back has been killing me for the past three days and I am exhausted but your words hustled me to overcome my laziness and do justice to my readers. I am very grateful to you, you have been my driving force and I am honoured that you feel that way about this story.
Guys, I've read your PMs and reviews and I know I haven't replied but I swear I will, I am just—going insane with a lot of stuff in my life right now. I am infinitely sorry for that, I will get back to you, pinky promise. Thank you so so much for your feedback and your love and I just really want to Koala hug each and every one of you beautiful people.
The next chapter, aka, the last chapter of this arc is about halfway done and I think you're going to enjoy it because it's action packed and two certain annoying teenagers might be—wait, no spoilers, gotta shut myself up. This is the first chapter that is completely written from Killua's P.O.V, like one hundred percent and you'll get to see just how pesky and moody this new version of Claire is. Cue to the one reader who said that my chapters are bonus english lessons, I laughed way too hard at that and felt a bit smug for some reason, do I have the right?
Also, Touch It by Ariana Grande kind of fits with the theme of Killua and Claire's relationship and Drive by Halsey because I'm realising that most of their conversations take place in a car. Give them a listen if you like. Dig in, let's check out this emotional earthquake.
Chapter: 24
"Fortuitous."
The inky folds of the night cast themselves on the unsure surface of the water as she ran her fingers through it, catching a few stars here and there on her skin. I breathed in the murk of our surroundings, watching her indecisive figure settled at the edge of the fountain, her eyes distant miles away.
She hadn't spoken a single word since we had walked in through the gates of the local park. Her earlier firmness seemed to have faded like smoke, leaving room for only the silence that weighed in the air.
"Ready to go?" I sued, standing up and keeping track of each one of her blinks.
She didn't answer, instead her gaze broke away from the emptiness clouding her irises and darted to me, until it trailed lower and lingered on my hand.
I followed the path of her eyes before I spotted the dull little pink line that coursed from my wrist to the intersection of my thumb. Immediately, I hid my hands in my pockets; mantelling away the angry mark left where the shards of glass had penetrated a little deeper.
The surge of humiliation that spread in my bones on meeting her sight again, made me feel an intolerable discomfort. I didn't know whether I was imagining it or not, but I could see a heavy accusation settled in her eyes.
She reverted her attention back to the dancing ripples on the water at the tip of her fingers.
"That night—" I commenced, my guilt outpowered me easily as I struggled with words. "That is the one moment of my life that I wish I could do over—"
"You know," she interrupted me, rendering me mute with her piercing look. "When I was at the orphanage, there was this child that cried every night." Her narration of an abandoned an untold chapter of her life drained my mind of thoughts. She never said anything related to the time prior to her adoption, I hadn't even heard her say the word 'orphanage' more than once. "Every night," she repeated with more stress. "And just hearing it—it made me want to—it was so—horrible." The glisten on the surface of her eyes was become more prominent with every word she spoke and her glassy gaze materialised all the unspoken stories that she had kept in. "That was why I detested the night—the dark, it was the cue for that—scream; there was nothing worse. I just wanted it to end."
The crack in her voice as she uttered the end of her sentence made me flinch reflexively.
"It was a few nights laters that I found out that it was me," she revealed breathlessly. "I was the one who kept screaming—it did get worse—because it made me want to end myself." Her confession trembled of helplessness as she braced her arms around herself. "That's how I felt that night—that's how it felt watching you bleed."
I speechlessly kept gazing at the hollow mist in her eyes, the way her hand shook uncontrollably as she lifted it up and furiously rubbed her eyelids. "Never again," she seethed through her teeth, her arms dropping to her sides, sporting her clenched fists. "I'm never giving anyone the power to make me feel like that again; no one—not even you," she notified, turning her gaze to me at last.
I could only stare as she rose from the cemented spiral and walked towards me. She barely reached my shoulders, but her presence seemed to be towering mine all of a sudden. "So, if I could do that night over," she emphasised my previous words, her irises almost merging with the air around me. "I would've never let myself cry—never let myself feel that weak because of you and I would've never let you render me as helpless as you did."
For just one moment she drew so close, I almost closed my eyes, expecting her to end the distance between our lips. In the next instant the back of her hand connected with the side of my face, my head slightly tilted with the impact of the slap that she delivered.
"This is my do-over," she informed before I even recovered from her action. "And the next time you touch me Killua, is when you've made up your mind and you're ready to stand by your own decisions, get it?"
With these words spoken, she sauntered forward towards the obscure pathway, that lead nowhere but away from me; the echo of her declaration still fresh in my mind.
But she kept shifting—everything about her seemed to do. It was as if she had found a frame, but couldn't exactly trim herself enough to fit into it. I could put a firmer finger on this deviation as I attempted to park outside a coffee shop on a Friday afternoon and nearly ran into a wildly speeding car that missed me by an inch and sweeped away the spot.
I countered with a prolonged sound of the horn until a delicate hand stuck out from the window, holding a finger clear in the air.
My eyebrows shot up on registering the gesture as I lowered the glass. "Are you fucking with me?" I called out.
A tuft of maroon hair popped out from the front as Claire craned her neck back to cast a glance at me. "No, I have standards."
I rolled my eyes and pressed my hand to my forehead, to be honest, I wasn't even surprised. Before I could make a remark of my own, my cell phone buzzed in my hand, displaying her id on the screen.
"Don't you have anything better to do than stalk me?" her voice demanded immediately as I brought the phone to my ear after accepting the call.
"Yes, because you're such a joy, aren't you?" I retorted sarcastically.
"Yeah, well it's really unhealthy to be this obsessed with a person," she explained and I watched her emerge out of her car, shut the door with her boot, and tread towards me, phone still against her ear.
"So impressive, God you're sly," I commented further in an emotionless tone, holding her gaze.
"Let me guess, you have a binocular somewhere in there, don't you?" She bent down near my window, leveling our sights.
I rolled my eyes. "No, it's actually a monocular," I corrected. "And it's right between my—"
She mimicked my eyeroll and smacked my shoulder. "I refuse to believe that this is a coincidence."
"Why? Because we live in a city that's the size of a continent? Or is it because—" I halted immediately, grasping the situation. "Did Gon ask you here?" I guessed on point.
Her eyebrows shot up slightly at my assertion. "How do you—oh," she conjectured, her expression changing into one of disbelief. We kept looking at each other for a minute before she sighed and shook her head. "What's dumber? The fact that Gon came up with this shitty cliche to make us show up at the same place or that we actually fell for it?"
I nodded with my lips pursed in irritation as I rubbed my jaw with my thumb. "Dick-face told me there was an emergency."
Her guise altered into one of utter amusement on registering my words. "Well, he told me there were new boots at the mall," she revealed with a shrug. "My fist is really tingly now, he's not gonna show up, is he?"
I shot her a look. "No, and keep that a mile away from my face," I warned, gesturing towards her hand. "I know that your hands are suddenly in love with my cheekbones, but most romance ends in tragedy."
She held her mouth to a side and her eyebrows shot up at my words in an annoyed manner. "That is the stupidest thing that I have ever heard and be real, you deserved it—I don't exactly have a retort to that shit right now because I'm starving so, how about we continue this super productive conversation with the addition of food in our hands?"
"That's an original way to actually ask someone out," I observed leaning my elbow against the door. "What's the guideline? Whack a person on the face and invite them to lunch?" I debriefed with a sceptical glance.
A corner of her mouth lifted up. "Yeah, kick in the balls and we can have a kid together, or actually not since that would kind of deprive them of their..." she considered. "You know what? I'm hungry, I can't think with low blood-sugar."
"Wow," I opined with yet another eye roll while listening to her rant and the same remark escaped me once more, and with actual feeling this time a few minutes later as I watched Claire swallow down an entire hamburger in one go.
She looked up at me in question and I involuntarily shifted back in my chair while clearing my throat. "Nothing," I dismissed, and diverted my gaze to an empty table at the coffee shop we were sitting in.
"Are you gonna eat that?" she asked through a mouthful of food, pointing at packet of fries in front of me.
"Yes," I said looking at her. "I told you that five seconds ago," I reminded.
"Yeah, but what about now?" she interrogated further.
I surveyed her intricately as I slid it towards her. "Just—take it."
"Thanks," she mumbled, absorbed in chewing ferociously.
After a long silent stare, I finally sighed and crossed my arms around my chest. "Okay, what's wrong?"
Her eyes darted up to me and she grimaced. "What do you mean? I'm just hungry, I can't remember the last time I ate."
"Why? I don't recall you running the cycle of birth throughout the universe."
"I was up all night last night with Isawa," she revealed, barely looking at anything but the meal.
I simply responded with an eyebrow raise.
"—syncing the security with the blueprints," she appendaged, casting me a brief glimpse. "Oh God, you're honestly so cheap."
"Like you're the definition of divinity," I muttered, picking at the side of my sandwich with my fingers. "I never asked you to strain yourself," I added, suppressing my sudden irritation.
"I'm not doing any of this to please you," she reassured, grabbing the chips out of the bag and stuffing them in her mouth.
I kept quietly peering at her for a few more minutes before she met my gaze. "What?"
"You only eat three at a time when you're nervous, pissed or on your period," I informed, indicating at the food in her hand.
She paused to meet my gaze and slowly raised her eyebrows. "How do you know I don't have my period?"
"It's the end of the month and—" I halted mid sentence on realising what I was saying. "You don't— look like a zombie," I covered up unsuccessfully.
She began coughing all of a sudden and grabbed a napkin to hide her expression. "Well, you sure do your research well," she asserted with a small laugh. "Do you also know my shaving routine?"
"Shut your mouth," I countered, trying to avoid looking at her directly as she kept trying to suppress her laughter. I sighed when her struggle didn't seem to be ending any time soon. "Listen, I've got somewhere to be," I notified, getting up as I took out my wallet and placed a bill on the table. "You finish eating."
"Where are you going?" she demanded, reverting her attention to me completely.
"I had something to do, Gon's text sort of got me off schedule," I apprised taking out my cell phone.
"What?" she questioned further.
I squinted at her. "It's just some work."
She kept staring at me silently until she pushed the meal aside and stood up. "I'm coming with you," she decided.
I raised an eyebrow at her. "Why?"
"Because I said so."
"Claire, I'm not going off to some strip club," I enlightened, putting my hand in my pocket and withdrawing the keys of my car.
"I don't care, I'm coming," she pressed unabashed.
Just one good look at her fiery gaze and I knew there was no reasoning with her. "Well," I said, feeling my jaw twitch. "Glad we negotiated that."
She waved at me dismissively with the back of her hand and walked ahead. "Do you want me to drive?"
"Only when cancer doesn't sound like a better option," I declared, throwing my car keys upwards just a millisecond before she tried to snatch them and seizing them neatly with my other hand.
"Show off," she regarded on observing my reflexive feat.
"Suck it up," I shot back and we kept exchanging insults until we were seated in my car.
"Fucking asshole," she marked while accidentally knocking down my cell-phone from the dashboard as she attempted another one of her gestures. "Sorr—"
We both instantly ducked to retrieve it and bumped foreheads in the process. "Ow."
"Stop being perky," I seethed through gritted teeth as I jerked upwards.
"What, I'm not—" she commenced and in the process, her elbow missed my forehead by an inch.
I drew back and glared at her. "Gosh, you remind me of those annoying, tiny blue dwarfs with the white hats."
"What?"
"The ones from that shitty movie you made me watch," I clarified.
"The smurfs?" she tried, her expression mutating. "You told me you liked it."
"Yeah, well I was trying to get you to go out with me back then," I conceded with further explanation.
Her mouth opened slightly on registering my words. "You shallow bastard—" she paused and gritted her teeth. "I sat through that shit because you actually looked interested."
"In you or the movie?" I conjectured with a brief laugh.
"Oh jesus," she sulked with a sigh before her gaze darted back to me. "Okay," she speculated further. "Since we're being totally honest all of a sudden, let me confess that I did spill nail-polish on your deadpool figurine," she unraveled with a shrug.
I pursed my lips at her. "I liked you a little better three seconds ago when you weren't being honest—or talking," I appendaged.
"That's fine, actually. Your whole orbit does keep switching every instant anyway," she remarked, cocking her head to a side.
"You're implying?"
"Killua, you have more mood swings than I do when I've got my period, is that enough of an explanation?"
"New deal, no being honest with each other now," I proposed.
"Okay, you're a very charming young man," she acceded as a corner of her mouth lifted up. "Emphasis on charming and young—and man," she added.
"But not as much as you are pleasant company," I regarded, holding my hand up.
She rolled her eyes. "Just—where are we going?"
"You're going home and I'm going out of town," I informed as I fastened my seatbelt.
Her head jolted in my direction and she gave me a prolonged look. "Come on, we need to peruse through those files—and discuss things."
"We can do that later, problem solved," I spurned as I started the car.
Her lips parted with the effort of further reflection. "I—I can help you with whatever you're doing, you know I'm smart."
"And humble," I adjoined with a sceptical smile.
"You could need me," she nudged suggestively. "Besides, I'm a fun car-ride partner."
"Yeah and moreover, cancer's not fatal."
"Killua."
"Claire," I replied with the same balmy tone as I met her gaze. "Okay," I gave in at last after studying her expression. "But only because you could be useful to me," I clarified as I pulled out.
"Could I now?" she indicated, leaning her head against the seat.
"Surprisingly, yes."
"Why? You need somebody to help you embrace the fact that you have an ugly voice and should stop singing along with the radio?" she submitted, passing her fingers through the tips of her hair.
"Hilarious, I can barely contain my laughter," I commented dully. "And no, actually there's this girl—" I commenced as I took the first turn, but my mobile shifted from the dash and I paused to put it back in its previous position.
Her head snapped in my direction the exact second I spoke the incomplete word. "Oh," she mused in a weak tone, and I failed to understand her defeated reaction.
But before I could even inquire, she repeated her previous statement but saturated with badly suppressed anger this time. "So, you're allowed to date?" She burst out all of a sudden as I registered her enraged expression.
"What? Where the—"
"You're allowed to date," she reverted, stressing on each word. "—while, a guy barely kisses me, and all of a sudden, you receive the permit to go on busting your fucking fist through car windows?" She bellowed.
"How does that even—"
"Save it." She held her palm in front of my face. "You know what, you insensitive bastard? I don't even care. I should've God damned known, you guys are all worthless pieces of shit anyway."
I stared at her. "Are you done?"
"No," she immediately retorted. "Be happy, actually fuck you, go ahead and just—" she paused mid sentence and just groaned as she held her head. "I hate you, I can't believe I actually thought you—you guys are just fucking looking for somewhere to stick your—is this the kind of help you wanted from me?" she started off towards a new direction. "Tell you ways to win her over? Walk up to her and tell her just how amazing you are?"
I held my hand to my forehead, knowing that this wouldn't be ending anytime soon.
"Well, just let me tell you that you're not even—you're a lousy kisser," she proclaimed. "—a stupid kisser, it sucks to kiss you," she concluded fuming.
I gaped at her in disbelief. "I'm a lousy kisser?" I demanded in non-comprehension. "Is that why you practically glued your face to mine in that bathroom like there was no tomorrow?"
Her eyes twitched and her guise altered. "Ah, of course you were going to boast about that," she answered back with a grimace. "You cheap retard."
I heaved a sigh and shook my head. "Will you let me complete the fucking sentence?" I finally raged out. "I was talking about the girl who gave us information about Isawa."
She blinked at me wordlessly as she processed my words."The girl who—?" she echoed in a frail manner. "Oh, in that case, you're not that bad," she reverted with a shrug.
"Fuck," I commented, biting back a grin. "I wish I caught that on camera."
She casted me a glance with the corner of her eye. "Why? Because you need one more thing to gloat about?"
"No," I rejected with a crooked smile as I met her gaze. "Because beside that shouting, you look incredibly hot when you're jealous."
"I wasn't jealous."
"Of course, and you also happen to be an excellent driver—just saying," I further completed, raising my hands in surrender when she focused an intense glare in my direction. "But just so we're clear, how jealous were you Claire?"
"Fuck you."
"No, is it like—what was that scale you invented? From one to your balls were about to burst, where did your jealousy lie? Or do girls even have balls?" I continued, glancing occasionally at the road.
"Yes, we do, and they're a lot bigger than yours," she confirmed, craning her neck to look at me. "And I suggest if you want to keep yours intact, you better shut up before this hands aims slightly lower than your cheekbones, and that'll be a real tragedy, where you end up sterile," she enlightened with the most eldritch tone I had ever heard.
"What have my genitals ever done to you?" I questioned, rolling my eyes.
"Nothing," she replied briskly. "Nothing at all." The way she spaced the pronunciation of each word, her redolent manner of speaking and the small smile that she attempted to hide as she gradually shook her head had me laughing so hard, I could hardly bring myself to stop.
"What are you doing?" she asked as she watched me grab my phone and quickly tap on the screen with my thumb.
"Making a note," I revealed. "A reminder to get you a pair of horns for Halloween, please promise me you'll dress up as Satan."
I was expecting a caustic remark but instead, she bit her lip with her two front teeth and just stared at me. "You're not going to be here on Halloween," she reminded. "You're leaving Monday, remember?" The way she made this statement was clearly forlorn, but it was the last line she spoke that had me meeting her gaze as a reflex. "This weekend is all I have with you."
"Okay wait, here's another one," I convinced Claire as I attempted to recount multiple jokes while we were parked outside an apartment complex about an hour later.
She clasped her palm on her forehead and groaned. "Oh God."
"A guy comes home from work and his wife asks him why he came in early," I began, steadying my posture. "And he says that his boss told him to go to hell," I choked out, struggling to complete the sentence.
She cast me a long glance as she chewed on her thumb. "Wow."
"Did you get it?" I confirmed, turning towards her. "The guy actually says—" I attempted to explain with my hands.
"Oh, no, I got it," she assured while nodding. "It's just—not funny."
"Come on, it's really funny," I reasoned, finally losing my collectedness and chortling uncontrollably.
On studying my reaction she shook her head, resisting the grin that ultimately formed on her face before she covered it with her hands and vibrated with silent laughter. "The only thing that's funny about your jokes Killua, is the way you laugh at them," she guaranteed, forcing to keep her tone serious.
I exaggeratedly rolled my eyes an exact three hundred and sixty degrees at her, before recommencing my practice. "I also have another one—"
"Fuck—no, no, no—NO," she forbade immediately. "No more Killua jokes, please."
I pursed my lips and shrugged, trying to think of yet another topic of conversation before she saturated the air with the same quietude that she had acquired throughout the rest of the journey. In all honesty, I had always found deviation to be a good distraction from my thoughts and I wasn't going to give up on that now.
"Remind me again why we've been waiting outside these building for like fifteen minutes now?" she debriefed, checking the time.
"I told you," I apprised, leaning my head back against the seat. "We're paying a visit to that girl who lead us to Isawa."
"Why? Is she like your personal agent or something?"
I pretended not to have heard the implication she dropped heavily on the word 'personal'. "Oh, no. She's more like a communal individual..." I trailed off in search of the proper term. "She's more of a snitch, on a professional level."
"A snitch, on a professional level?" she repeated as if she was trying out the words in her mouth.
"Yeah, when you take money for giving out info on people, it's basically your job, isn't it?" I rationalised as I took out my cell from my pocket.
"Pretty much, yeah."
"And out of all the people we've pried from, paid and practically dragged our asses around for, she was the sole person that gave us a good lead."
"Oh," she mused. "And, how did you pay her?"
My sight darted to her in my periphery as I saw the firm stare that she was addressing me with. "Come on," I pleaded, facing her directly. "Do I look like a fuck boy to you?"
She didn't answer, instead just raised her eyebrows slightly as a response.
I sighed as I slouched my shoulders. "Okay, well in my defense, people either want money or sex and she had her priorities very straight."
"If she did give you what you asked, why the hell are you here?" she at last directed, crossing her legs on the seat.
"Do we really have to have this conversation now?" I demanded absent-mindedly. "I've got all three bananas on arcade mode," I informed as I swiftly swiped on my screen. "Okay, hey—" I complained as she snatched it from my hands. "She didn't give me everything," I unraveled while glaring at her. "That's how they do these business deals, they keep something to themselves to either have you coming back or have some sort of hold on you."
Her lips slightly parted at this assertion. "And that's dawning upon you like—now?" she questioned, pointing below her.
I clicked my tongue. "Of course I knew, it's just that I had found a good enough steer from what we yielded and the girl could've been useful to us—in the future," I attached, "now I couldn't go ahead and risk it all, you've got to be in good terms with these kind of people, they are in a very beneficial position."
"And you had this ingenious backup plan in mind for over a year now?"
I sighed while aiming to recover my mobile from her. "It was sort of in the back of my mind," I emphasised. "Didn't really hit until this morning; I woke up and my intuition guided me here for some reason."
She blinked at me twice and then bent her leg as she out her elbow on her knee as she held it back. "Even if she has kept something from you, what use is it going to be? We're infiltrating an intelligence agency to get information about Gon's dad, does that even count for something?" she demanded, slightly exasperated.
"That's the thing, we have no guarantee that there will be something useful to us in there; I like to either have at least a ninety percent on something or a plan B."
"You are unbelievable," she concluded while shaking her head. "Tell me something," she additionally redirected.
"What?"
"You're not exactly paying an informed visit, are you?"
"That depends on what you mean by informed," I jested as I aimed again but instead she caught my hand and gave me her typical look. "Okay, no."
"Then, how—" she began indecisively, "you're going to use the same old threatening method, right? I mean—how are you so sure that she's going to tell you the truth?" Her free hand was darting wildly as she tried to explain her theory.
"Fear always works," I contended while trying to understand her motive. "What are you saying?"
"Well, I was thinking about this when you were—negotiating with Isawa," she disclosed, adjusting her position once again.
"That's a clear example, isn't it? I got him to spill the beans by scaring the shit out of him."
She shook her head once more at my assertion. "That's the thing, he was being honest with you even before you mentioned your last name," she reminded. "I think that your— interviewees have an advantage on you, you naturally expect them to be sincere out of fear."
I raised an eyebrow at her choice of words and couldn't help but sit erect. "So, you're saying I should carry a lie detector around?"
"You don't need a lie detector when you have—" she halted as if she wasn't sure of her words.
"When I have what?" I probed.
She looked down at her hand and it occurred to me that she was still holding mine. "You—you can manipulate electricity, right?" she finally voiced out with a guarded expression.
I stared back at her silently. "How do you know?"
"The streetlights started blinking when you got angry, you basically dashed off before me glowing like Zeus, and got a stuck elevator door to open as soon as your palm touched the control board—it's not just a lucky guess," she assured, her gaze firm and not open for any argument.
"What are you up to?" I questioned, trying to extract some of her thoughts through her eyes.
"Well," she highlighted. "You use these powers to enhance your physical abilities, like speed, don't you? And there is something either inside or around your body that you transmute into electricity."
I gaped at her, dumbfounded by her accurate wording.
She took my answerless gawk as a confirmation and continued. "Considering any of these two possibilities, your body is the conductor both ways."
I lowered my gaze slightly as I modified my position; it was very prominent what she was implying by this. "I have high tolerance for pain," I guaranteed.
"Tolerance doesn't mean immunity, Killua," she replied in a reluctant manner and I saw clear commiseration dwell in her eyes as they met mine.
My jaw tightened promptly at her reaction and I forcefully withdrew my hand from her hold, because since I could remember, there was nothing that I detested more than pity for myself in someone's sight. "Is there something else you're getting to or was this the whole fruit of this conversation?" My voice came out more aggressive than I intended and she winced at my retaliation.
"That—no," she barricaded, shifting her body a bit back and making me regret my impulsive action. "I actually just had a really random thought," she justified,"— you know that neurons are also activated by electric impulses," she ventured, maintaining the distance.
I let my posture relax and adapted a softer tone. "Yes, and I already know you're suggesting firing up my reflexes; been there, done that."
Her stance followed my example and she appeared relatively calmer. "I guessed as much, but have you ever considered using your abilities psychologically?" she stipulated, grasping my attention once more.
"What do you mean?" I inquired unable to comprehend her assertion.
"Are you familiar with ECT—electroconvulsive therapy?"
"No, what is it?"
"I came to know about it when I was taking my sessions with Natasha," she divulged, and I felt her guard loosen. "It's a kind of treatment where a mild electric impulse is allotted to the brain to produce a slight seizure—it's mostly used on people showing suicidal symptoms or, you know, severe mental illnesses," she proceeded, making indications with her hand as if there was some vital point I was missing.
"You want me to work for the welfare of humanity?" I mocked, tilting my head.
She shut her eyes for an instant, clearly irritated. "It's like—" she crossed her two fingers and then untangled them swiftly as a practical example. "It flips the nerves or something—I think it temporarily relaxes them."
"A jolt of electricity relaxes the nerves?" I repeated with scepticism heavily loaded in my voice.
"Not in that way—it leaves people in a state of daydreaming, you know, like—a bit disoriented? It causes changes in tha brain's chemistry for fuck's sake," she bleated at last.
"Like injecting someone with a truth serum," I visualised as I caught her theory.
She nodded vehemently. "Just faster and—with you twenty-four seven as a part of your—" she stopped to pick a suitable term. "—whatever that thing of yours is."
"Okay," I stated in a confused manner.
"And, I mean—it's not like a hundred percent guaranteed effect everytime and with every person, but it could also be useful when you want to sort of—stun a person without knocking them out—? I mean, I don't know what help that'd be but—" She shrugged apologetically. "And you could get a person stoned by just—" She demonstated the rest of the action by flipping her hands.
I surveyed her supposition as I scratched my hair.
"Don't make that face," she complained, glaring at me.
"What face?"
"That Killua face—if you think it's stupid, just say it; it was just a hypothesis anyway."
"Okay, first off, I forbid you from using my name like it's disease from now on," I rejected, focusing on her, "and secondly, I was just evaluating it, it's actually pretty smart," I countered polemically.
"Good," she replied in the exact same instant as if she was just waiting for my consensus, "can I?" she demanded permission this time, her hands reaching for mine.
I tossed her an incredulous sight. "Why the formality?" I questioned, intertwining our fingers.
But she separated them and brought her arms back towards her."Because you scare the shit out of me sometimes," she confessed as she lead my hands to her head.
"I'm sorry, what are you doing?" I averted, unable to understand her purpose.
"Try it on me," she dictated, position my fingertips on her temples.
My eyebrows shot up. "What?"
"The ECT—just put your thumbs on my scalp and try it," she guided while my mouth almost fell open at her suggestion.
"What the fuck?" I revised in loud disbelief.
"Come on," she stressed as if she was just considering a change in her diet. "It should be pretty basic for you, just make sure the impulse is gentle."
My eyelids fluttered as she spoke and I realised that she was actually serious. "Are you in your senses Claire?" I checked as I pulled back from her and studied her expression.
"What? It's done all the time, it's really not as dangerous at all," she argued, shaking her head in dismay.
I tilted my head slightly lower so that we were perfectly at each other's eye-level and then stared at her so that she understood just how absurd her proposition was. "Let me get this straight," I sketched as I made a clear indication with my hand, "you want me to zap you."
"—it's an electric stimul—" she pressed in between.
"Shut up," I ordered at once and she was quick in registering the magnitude of my anger. "You're here telling me that this is a commonly practiced procedure that is in no way risky, having zero side-effects—"
"—just disorientation... and memory-loss, but it's all temporary—" she inter
jected in justification.
I nodded at this new piece of information. "—and furthermore you are expecting me to believe that this little technique, that is no way controversial of course, is carried out with no mandatory precautions."
"Just general anesthesia but it's not compul—"
"Wow," I concluded with a clap. "Amazing suggestion, brilliant," I complimented in the most deriding tone I could manage. "Just one last question, why in the name of Jesus fucking Christ would I test this out on you?" I bayed as she retreated farther away. "Wait," I breathed as I finally caught the edge in her expression. "How did this entire idea even occur to you in the first place?"
Her lips were pursed as she became aware of the direction of this conversation now. "I told you, it was a random thought."
"Couldn't get your hands on sedatives this time, so this is what you thought of?" I predicted easily.
Her eyes widened at this and she turned to me. "Stop it."
"You can go ahead and fuck and pretend with someone who doesn't know you, but I do," I alerted. "And this better end here; control yourself before this gets out of hand."
"I didn't do anything," she denied, blinking furiously.
"I warned you at graduation," I reminded her. "You don't want this to go to Hana, do you?" I further added and her gaze darted to mine instantly as if she couldn't believe just what I had said out loud.
"No," she accenuated, her guise saturated with reluctancy.
"Good, are we clear?"
"Yes." And that abolished the strain that seemed to fill the air.
"Face your problems instead of trying to run away from them," I emphasised, boring my gaze into hers and she looked away. "Now, what's wrong?" I demanded, settling on my seat.
"Nothing, I told you, nothing is wrong," she insisted, now on the borderline of exploding.
I cast her a long and intense look but she didn't budge. "Come here." I beckoned.
"No, Killua no—" she protested as I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her closer. "What are you doing you space invading bastard—" she kept struggling, by aiming her elbows at me until her resolve broke and she let out a moan. "What—what are you doing to me?" she asked in a trembling voice as I rubbed her shoulders and felt her melt before me.
"Does that feel good?" I confirmed as I kept massaging lower.
"No," she fired back immediately. "Yes," she appendaged soon after as she exhaled a deeply. "I hate you," she breathed in a weak tone. "You've got jesus hair," she blurted out as I continued.
I suppressed a snort at her remark. "Your posture is tense," I informed as I grasped her arms.
"Oh, God," she sighed and started emitting noises that ultimately drove me insane.
I released her before we'd both get fucked up and she craned her neck in my direction. "You know when I said everything was fine?" she recalled gradually. "I lied."
"You don't say," I stated, rolling my eyes.
"You know, I just registered for my college classes and—it's time for me to move out, right? I mean, I'm eighteen," she justified, her timber almost fading by the end of the sentence. "But everytime I think about going and signing the lease of the apartment I got, my mom—she just—" her voice broke and she shielded her face with her hands while attempting to control her breath. "—she starts crying, hysterically," she annexed, speaking the word like it was poisonous. "And, I tell her—it's barely an hour away and I wouldn't have considered ever leaving if she didn't have Katie and my nonna's not here anymore and I don't know what my dad would tell me and I know it's hard adjusting— but I feel like if I stay, I'll be stuck in that pattern forever and I'm going to—but just thinking about leaving, it makes me feel guilty, am I—am I being selfish again?" she inquired, watching me with the kind of defeat in her eyes that I never wished to see again.
I raised my palm as she pressed hers against mine, and intertwining our fingers I brought my lips to her fingertips. "Your mom wants this and your dad would've wanted that, while your nonna could want something else and then who knows what Katie wants." I shrugged dismissively, "—but what do you want?" I probed slowly.
"I want to live my life," she answered with no hesitation.
"Then what is the problem here?" I mused silently.
"I'm just—so confused."
I kissed her hand twice before pulling her closer until her ear was inches away from my lips. "Claire, you've got wings," I informed her in a whisper, "don't you dare clip them."
She drew back and shfted to face me directly, exposing the stunned look on her face. "You say something like that," she adduced, "and expect me not to kiss you?"
I gave her surprised stare at this. "Just take back what you said at last night, I know fountains make you emotional," I satirised, grasping her hand tighter.
"Make up your mind Killua, you know not one of us wants to just talk right now," she shot back while passing a hand through the hair covering my forehead.
"I've got incredible self-control," I pronounced as I tried to keep my mind clear.
"And I'm very stubborn," she prompted, actually withdrawing to her seat and leaving me wanting to smash the windshield into pieces.
"Good," I complimented through gritted teeth.
"Fine," she retorted firmly. "And I got the last word," she finalised just as I opened my mouth again and I took it as a clear cue of her ferocious self being back in business.
I glared down at my phone just to appear unaffected but froze when I actually saw the time. "Fuck," I muttered while unfastening my seat-belt.
"What?" she debriefed.
"I've gotta go, I won't be long. Just—" I commenced while surveying the front compartment of the car. "Finding something to kill time and please don't set the car on fire."
The aspect of her face altered at my words. "Where are you going?"
"Where I should've been about ten minutes ago," I muttered as I threw the door open. "Stay here," I ordered, stepping out. "I didn't need you, I'll buy you food," I negotiated.
"Then why'd you bring me?" she asked, following suit and shutting the door behind her.
I sighed. "Because you're obstinate—and adorable," I blurted out mindlessly and her eyebrows furrowed at my wording.
"What?"
"I said your door is bulged," I made a sad attempt at covering it up, and to my surprise she bought it as she spun back to glance at the car.
"What does that mean? Is that a car term?" she demanded in confusion.
"Nothing. Get back in, you're wasting my time," I ushered with my hand.
She pursed her lips at the remark and I saw a clear challenge spark in her eyes. "I'm coming with you," she concluded and I understood I would have a better chance at discovering a cure to some fatal disease than to convince her otherwise.
"Of course you are," I acceded as I sautered forward with her pacing by my side and ultimately, as I lead her up the flat, by actually pushing her because she had suddenly acquired the pace of a sloth, she asked me something that made the most unexpected simper appear on my face.
"Just to be clear, you don't—like this girl, do you?" she interviewed in a cautious manner, coming to a halt in front of me.
I looked down at her and her lingering gaze was preoccupied. "I'm more into feisty bitches," I ressured her with a wink as I surpassed her.
"Huh," I heard her muse out-loud. "Good."
And her relieved tone got a silent chuckle out of me.
"So, you just happen to know where she lives," she reflected as we stood before a wooden door yielding the apartment number that we were searching and I made one last confirmation from the text I received.
"I've got sources," I mumbled, pocketing my cell phone and delivering three quick raps on the entrance.
After about half a minute, the most rapid and expected scene took place: the door opened about mid-way, but when the person behind it made eye-contact with me—"hey—" I had barely started when it slammed right in my face and I heard the clear clicking of a lock.
I turned to Claire who was staring at me with an amused and entertained expression.
"Why are they never happy to see me?" I questioned, exasperated.
"Even though your such a joy," she backed up, fighting a smile.
"I am not a violent person," I recited about a minute later as I sat down on the apartment floor, right in front of a pesky blonde girl with the highest pony-tail in the existence of time. "I always practice peace and negotiation," I continued as she addressed me with a sceptical glare. "But they force me to do things the hard way," I claimed while glancing at Claire who was gaping at the distinctly sparking En that I had expanded around my subject and I with the most awed expression I had ever witnessed.
"Why the fuck are you here, Killua?"
"Yes, it's nice to see you too," I paused, scratching my head, "—darling, I forgot your name," I confessed with an apologetic smile.
She sighed. "Of course you did."
"But, I do remember it sounded like the name of some industrial solvent," I redeemed. "Is it Oxide?" I guessed, pointing to her.
"Onyx," she replied holding her lips in a tight line.
"Close enough," I rejoiced while briefly applauding.
"How long is this going to be?" she demanded, resting her chin on her palm.
"Only as long as you make it," I promised, crossing my legs and mimicking her position.
"What do you want?"
"I want," I highlighted, tilting my head. "Everything you have about Ging Freecss, everything."
"I already gave you the sole clue I had about him," she reminded, "did you find that Isawa guy?"
"Yes, I found the slut you suggested and that is why I'm back here," I commented in a dull tone.
She sighed loudly and gave me a stern look. "So, you naturally assumed that I kept something from you," she proceeded to complete my thought.
I nodded in agreement. "Yes, you have a suspicious look, like those—" I ceased for a moment. "Hey, Claire," I called, turning to her. "What are those cartoon girls with the huge lips called?"
She stared back at me. "The Bratz?"
"Yes," I accepted, snapping my fingers and shifting back. "You look like the Bratz, I can not trust you."
I saw her cast a knowing glance at Claire and spun to see them nod at each other as if they had some sort of secret understanding. "Why would I withhold any information from you, it's like basically inviting you back and why would I do that?" she broke down every word separately while firmly scowling at me.
"I don't know." I shrugged. "—because, this?" I indicated with my hand from my face down to entire my body.
She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Why is it so hard for you guys to accept that a girl is simply not interested in you?" she pleaded.
I rolled my eyes. "You're wasting my time, Barbie," I interjected. "And I could honestly just skip all of this and—"
"What are you doing?" she suddenly shot while looking behind me and I craned my neck to catch Claire sitting casually on a desk with a laptop.
She countered by raising her eyebrows and grimaced. "What? And I'm gonna take your word for it?" she challenged resuming her attention back to the screen.
"You'll never even get it to open," the girl fired back.
"Yes," she answered, not raising her sight. "If I was trying to access it from another device or I was an idiot—and Uranus is an incredibly lame password," she remarked. "Killua, don't make that joke," she warned before-hand just as I thought of the idea.
I responded by raising my hands in surrender.
"Don't—" the blonde rebelled.
"Don't worry, I will not even touch anything that doesn't concern me," she assured. "The security you have on this thing is amazing," she commented, now looking up. "What software are you using?"
She sighed and pressed her hand to her forehead in defeat. "I don't know, I already had it integrated before I got it."
Claire blinked, as if offended by her confession. "Do you even know what you have in this?" Her voice had become high-pitched in disbelief, and then she lifted up the computer and scanned it's cover. "In the name of—this laptop has military protection," she exclaimed while looking dumbfounded between her crowd.
"That's really not my thing," Onyx revealed in a raspy tone. "I hunt for information, I just needed somewhere to keep it safe."
"Oh, God," Claire kept gasping as her fingers clicked rapidly on the key-board. "What can you not decrypt with this shit?"
At last, she stood up and slammed the portable shut while watching us. "I'm taking this," she announced.
"What?" Onyx bellowed, rising up and almost forgetting the barrier of electricity that separated them.
"Correction, I'm borrowing this," Claire rephrased unabashed. "I haven't checked it yet and I need it, and you'll have it back Monday; like I said, I'm not going to peruse through any irrelevant data," she finalised, passing a hand through her hair in a way that had me biting my tongue. "Let's go." And she indicated towards herself with a finger.
I raised an eyebrow and turned to Onyx, who was staring at her with her mouth wide open. "She's the boss." I shrugged while getting up. "Don't sweat it, Blondie," I reassured her as I put my hands in my pockets. "You'll get your baby back, but don't get any ideas about following us," I forewarned with a impertinent grin.
"Killua—"
"We have a commitment," I phrased heading towards the door, "and it will not be broken," I guaranteed, bidding her goodbye with an audacious salute and descending the stairs.
"Was that girl a Hunter?" Claire debriefed as she we reached the car.
I nodded as I grabbed the keys.
"Then why didn't she—well, fight you and stuff?"
"Becauase: a, she doesn't want to discontinue her life and b, she's more into snooping than punching," I informed as we both climbed in.
"So, it's like—you can take any profession, like normal human professions and be that as a Hunter—just a lot more freakier?"
One corner of my mouth lifted up at her wording and looked at her. "Yeah."
"Then—what are you? Are you—like an enhanced form of an electrician?" she questioned and I swear to God, I kept laughing in the form of hysterical fits throughout the whole ride home.
Fortuitously, I found myself knocking at her door just several hours later. She emerged after a minute looking perplexed and indecisive as she registered my figure. "What are you doing here?"
"You didn't send me the files or tell me whether you found something in that laptop," I enlightened.
She blinked twice before speaking. "You could've called me."
"I did, eight times; you were'nt picking up," I informed as I shed her an intricate glance. "Were you sleeping?" I inquired, taking in her dishevelled appearance.
"Uh—what? I think, I dozed off," she mumbled, rubbing her face consciously.
"It's eight in the evening," I notified, tilting my head. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing—I just fell asleep on the couch while checking that computer," she mumured, gesturing inside with her thumb.
"Okay?" I stated, processing the silence of the house as I took a step forward.
"Stop right there," she ceased, stretching her arm in front of the entrance. "I'm not inviting you in."
I gave her a confused stare. "Last time I checked, I wasn't a vampire, so I get that I can barge in?"
"You absolutely should not," she dismissed automatically.
"Why?"
"I'm alone in the house and very sexually attracted to you," she answered simply.
I gaped at her speechlessly for a moment. "Oh God, no— I am not doing drunk Claire tonight," I complained as I bent down to get a clear look at her eyes.
"Really? What kind of Claire are you doing then?" she suggested with a small smile. "I'm not drunk," she convinced, processing my annoyed expression.
"Okay, then how many fingers?" I demanded, holding three before her.
"Four," she evaluated, "if you count that bulge I'm looking at," she further added while looking down.
"Oh, shut up for fuck's sake," I pleaded, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Did you have dinner?"
"Uh—no, I did put some frozen mac and cheese in the microwave but—I'm not really sure what they had transitioned into in the end, so I threw them away," she specualted with a shrug.
"Why didn't you order something?"
"Because," she emphasised. "Beside the fact that the humming of the fridge had me wet my pants, I feel like I can not trust pizza guys when I'm home alone."
"Where's Hana?" I finally debriefed.
"She's out of town for two days, with Katie," she revealed, hugging herself.
"She left you alone?" I questioned in disbelief. "Is—is that your alibi for Monday?" I proceeded to consider.
"What? No, she had business trip," she justified. "And yes Killua, there actually are coincidences in this world, I didn't do anything."
I sighed, walking past her and taking off my jacket. "How the hell did you convince Hana to leave you on your own?"
She shut the door behind her and acquired a pensive expression as if she was testing out in her mind whether she could get away with lying. "I told her I had a friend coming over."
I pressed my hand to my forehead. "Are you hungry?"
"Yeah but I don't really wanna go outside," she replied, taking in a glimpse of the lounge. "You want a coffee or something?"
"You don't know how to make coffee," I reminded her.
She frowned at me in response. "I can google it."
I rolled my eyes as I threw my jacket on the couch and headed to the kitchen.
"What are you doing?"
"Making your dumb ass dinner," I apprised as she paced to me.
"You don't have to do that," she updated, staring at me as I opened the refrigerator to check the contents.
"Do I?" I continued, now rummaging through the freezer and taking out a packet of frozen hamburger patties.
She climbed on the counter and kept watching me with a kind of affection in her eyes that left me a bit breathless.
"What?" I asked, looking up at her.
"You're beautiful," she told me bluntly, her gaze clear and unflinching.
And making an addition to the very limited moments in my life, she left me speechless, because I sincerely had no answer or retort to that.
So, she filled the silence with her chatter until we sat down on the sofa as I flipped through the channels and she devoured her food while making snarky comments about a particular tv show that caused her anxiety.
"What exactly is this though?" I asked while looking at the nasty, fuming brown liquid that was placed on the table before me as she ate.
"Coffee," she postulated, glaring at me as a result of my grimace.
"No offense, but the only thing this would be good for, would be to spill on my shirt so I'd take it off," I opnied, sniffing it and drawing back because it smelled nothing like coffee.
She stopped chewing and looked at me for a moment as if she had been challenged to something.
"Claire, no—" I started my eyes widening as I tried to shift back but she knocked the cup out of my hand enough to make the liquid trail down my shirt before I caught it.
"What? I do want to see you take your shirt off," she acknowledged as an answer to the silent glare I was addressing her with.
I took a very deep breath and shut my eyes.
"Say it," she invited with a smile in her voice.
"Bitch," I ultimately cursed.
"There," she spoke while getting up and heading to the stairs.
"Where are you going now?"
"I think I still have one of your shirts," she recalled, while ascending. "—from when we were together," she said additionally in the most casual manner ever before taking a glimpse of my guise. "What, is there a taboo on it now?"
I shook my head with a silent groan until she came back down and threw me one of my old black v-necks. "Why'd you keep it?" I questioned as I began undoing my buttons.
"I sniff it every night before going to bed," she narrated with a bored expression.
I tried to keep a serious face as I took off my shirt, but paused mid-action when I saw the shameless ogle that she was directing at my body. "Should I take my pants off too?" I offered sarcastically.
"Yes, please," she replied with no hesitation. "What? I've never seen your shirtless," she rationalised when I kept scowling.
"Yes you have," I cued, removing the garment from my shoulders.
"Okay, but I wanted to decease you then, so it doesn't count."
I rolled my eyes, then grabbed the clean shirt and pulled it on, feeling a certain amount of heat radiate to my face on being aware of her stare. When I turned to her, she was slightly grinning.
"You're blushing," she notified, biting her lower lip.
"Shut up," I told her and tried to compose myself, but it became incredibly hard when she walked up to me and traced her fingers on my visage as if she was trying to assess my emotions through her touch.
"What do you feel when you look at me?" she debriefed, her eyes curious and hungry.
My lips slightly parted at the closeness and for a moment, I couldn't remember how to talk; reflexively, I took her hand and placed it on my chest, and she felt it loud and clear: the force with which my heart was abusing my ribcage.
But her face fell and the spark in her irises died away as she began to blink furiously. "And—this isn't enough to make you change your mind?" she whispered as her fingers trembled.
I sighed and closed my eyes, feeling her anger radiate on my skin. "Claire—I can not be selfish with you, why can't you understand that?"
"I want you to be be selfish with me," she protested through clenched teeth, rage burning in her eyes.
I drew in a weak breath and stepped back. "I am not having this conversation with you again."
"Why won't you admit it?" she shot back, "why the hell won't you admit that this is stupid and you're an idiot, and eventually you're going to kiss me and fuck this up because your flawless self-control will turn into shit—and when that happens, you're going end this meaningless war that's going on for no reason at all."
"Don't delude yourself," I rejected, pressing my fingers to my temple.
"Then say it, say that you'll lose," she nudged.
I shook my head with a bitter smile. "Is this is a bet?"
"Yeah, it is," she assured, scowling up at me. "Say it, unless you're a coward."
My jaw tightened at her provocation. "Fine, you win—but only if I kiss you," I clarified, indicating with my hands.
"And you'll stop running away from me?" she prompted.
"Yeah, I'll take you regardless of whatever consequences there are."
"Because it'll be my decision," she further completed, raising her eyebrows.
"Because it will be your decision," I agreed, nodding at her demands, which was followed up by a long silent stare.
"Good," she voiced out finally and plopped down on the couch again, making it seem like her prior loss of control was just an act.
"I should go," I said, checking the time, "thanks for the—er, insult of coffee," I annexed making sure she caught the edge in my voice.
She rested her chin of her palm and looked at me. "Stay."
"I can't, you're very sexually attracted to me, remember?" I played, crossing my arms behind my neck.
"I think I can tame my hormones for one night. Besides I'm alone, you don't want me to die of a cardiac arrest, do you?"
"I don't know, do I?" I considered, receiving an eye roll in return as I paced to her and sat down to her side.
"You're so complicated, Killua," she confessed, automatically resting her head on my shoulder.
"Did you say complicated, or consummated?" I jested and was rewarded with a smack on the arm.
"That is the stupidest joke you have come up with yet and it doesn't even make any sense," she remarked, annoyed.
"You love my jokes."
"I hate your jokes, just accept the fact that you're not funny," she encouraged.
"Don't be jealous Claire, we are what we are. You're a douchebag, I'm hilarious," I reasoned, fueling the tirade.
And I can't remember how long we kept arguing on that particular subject, but I do remember falling asleep with her hand on my heart.
Passion rests in the soul, and honesty in the eye,
for emotions are firm laws that even the mind can't deny.