Chapter 5
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Part 3

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Two nights have passed since you left the Zoldyck mansion.

After picking you up, Hisoka took you back to his beautiful home and made dinner for you. At first, he insisted that you sleep in his room, but you refused, saying that you preferred the guest room. Guilt would have taken over your heart if you slept with Hisoka again, even if nothing sexual happened underneath those shared sheets. You were (and still are) attatched to Illumi... in a way.

Eventually, Hisoka gave in and allowed you to take the guest room. Still, you noted how eager he was to have you in the same bed as him. It was an amazing compliment, as much as you hated to admit it.

Now, on the third morning, you wake up to beautiful silence.

Hisoka's guest bedroom is decorated gorgeously minimalist with a white, queen sized bed, very light pink drywall, and two huge windows overlooking the forest beyond the backyard. Hisoka's room has similar windows, you recall.

Last night, you left curtains pulled back, so the morning sun now floods into your room, forcing your sleepy eyes into awake mode. For a moment, you are stuck in peaceful bliss as you rub your eyes. It is that moment right after waking up when your brain hasn't yet come to its senses, so you don't remember anything that's going on. It's a very pleasant moment, considering the fact that your life is in a bit of chaos as of current.

But, all good things must come to an end. Eventually, you remember that fact (about your life being in chaos) and with it comes the feeling of lead in your veins.

Time passes, but you don't get out of bed. The sun moves and the sky clears, providing a beautiful blue ocean to brighten the guest bedroom beyond what you thought was possible.

As you're lying on your back, comfy in your blankets and soaking up the beauty of the room, your phone chimes with a text.

Hisoka
breakfast is ready, darling~
⭐️~_~💧

You smile at the little face he added at the end of the message. You can't help it; the face is adorable. Just look at it.

Illumi doesn't sign his texts like that.

Ah! You blink, having surprised yourself with such a thought. You shouldn't be surprised, though; the comparison between Hisoka and Illumi is ever present in your mind. This is just a minor comparison out of all the things you've compared. You have to stop this habit.

You stand up and look in the closet for some fresh clothes to change into. Hisoka keeps the closet in the guest bedroom stocked, possibly because he gets frequent visitors. You wouldn't know. You choose an outfit for the day out of the various choices Hisoka has laid out here, brush your teeth (Hisoka also keeps a stock of unopened toothbrushes in the guest bedroom; he's astonishingly prepared), then head downstairs.

"Good morning, beautiful," Hisoka coos once you enter the kitchen. He's holding a spatula and wearing a pink apron that reads, "Suck the chef's dick" in cursive. Something is sizzling on the stove behind him. It smells like bacon and butter.

"Morning, handsome," you answer compulsively. Then you blush, furiously, because you just complimented him. "Nice apron," you joke in a feeble effort to recover your composure.

Hisoka only chuckles, but his eyes are locked attentively on yours, as if his gentle laughter means so much more than it really does. "Have you heard from our dearest assassin yet?" he inquires.

"No." Even as you say that simple word of negative affirmation, you quickly unlock your phone and check for missed texts or calls from Illumi. Sadly (but as expected) there are none. Your phone is dryer than the Sahara. The absence of messages from Illumi makes your chest hurt. You miss him.

"What's for breakfast?" you ask, as if Illumi's radio silence doesn't bother you at all.

But Hisoka can quite clearly see that you miss the Zoldyck. It's evident in the way you fidget at the mentioning of him; the way you always frown a bit when you so obviously think of him. Hisoka loves those moments, when he catches you thinking about Illumi.

Why does he love them, you might ask?

Because Hisoka loves the firey feeling of jealousy that boils in his stomach at the thought of your beautiful, intoxicating presence neglecting him to think about someone else.

Hisoka knows that you're in love. He knows full and well. The thought makes him angry, but it draws him in so dearly, because Hisoka wants you. Every last particle of you. Yet, he can't help but enjoy the battle.

The battle between him and Illumi.

Thus, Hisoka is both glad and disappointed that you are breaking Illumi's heart apart with your mere presence. (Glad because it means you'll attatch yourself more to Hisoka, but disappointed because you'll detatch from Illumi.)

Hisoka is also glad that you're here, in his house. Right now, you are in the palm of his hands, not the assassin's hands. This pleases him, of course, because he is sickly and disgustingly obsessed with you. Currently, Hisoka is winning the battle.

"Eggs, bacon, toast," Hisoka replies to your question. It's only now that you see what is sizzling on the stove—bacon. Your nose hadn't failed you earlier. It looks wonderfully cooked, making your mouth salivate. "Have a seat. I'll prepare you a plate."

There's a glass table several feet away from the kitchen with four soft, black chairs, two on either side. You take a seat.

Hisoka begins preparing you a plate, piling eggs and bacon on one half, then placing a slice of buttered toast on the other. As he's pouring you a mimosa, he sighs and says, "I don't have anything to do today." It sounds as though he's pouting. He turns around, placing the plate on the table in front of you. He doesn't set the mimosa down, but rather, holds it out to you. "Would you happen to have any way to... entertain me?"

Hisoka's eyes glisten, failing to hide his cunning from you.

"Maybe," you say, taking the skinny mimosa glass from his outstretched hand. His nails are painted pink, and a little yellow star has been drawn on the middle finger of his left hand. "Name some things that entertain you."

"Ah, the usual things that entertain everybody else, of course." He turns around and leans his butt on the edge of the table, looking slightly off in the distance. "Walks. Alcohol. Sex. Murder."

"Huh?"

"I said the usual."

You pause, then, "We could go on a walk, I guess."

"Fantastic! There's a wonderful trail in the forest just behind my house." Hisoka unties his apron before sliding it over his head.

You pause, frowning a bit, half with satire and half with concern. Your fork lies untouched on the table, watching with inhumane sadness as you pick up a slice of bacon with your fingers. "Are you going to kill me while we're out?" you ask with a little, half nervous laugh.

"Maybe." Hisoka hangs the apron on a hook beside the fridge. "Depends on how hard you kiss me."

///

"Y'know, sometimes I wonder if you're really human."

Those words, spoken by none other than (Y/N)'s electrifying voice, ring through Illumi's muddled head over and over again like a siren's intoxicating call, like a raindrop bouncing against water, the ripples never to cease.

Is he really human? Were your thoughts correct in the sense that they should be thought by not only you, but by himself?

Illumi is laying face-up in his bed, with the stillness of a mannequin and wearing nothing but a black, silk robe. The fabric is tied loosely around his muscular figure, but that's not important. We do not need to know that his left hip, and half of his V-line, are exposed to the warm air of his bedroom, and we definitely don't need to know that one slight movement on his end might lead to the catastrophic slip of the silk robe, thus revealing his obscenities. Totally irrelevant information; moving on.

Illumi's poor soul has been trapped inside of a box his entire childhood. He was trained to act like an unthinking machine.

Perhaps it's time that Illumi becomes independant of his family's name. Sure, he will still work for them and act beneath his father, but he can have motives of his own. (Not dreams of his own, motives. Because Zoldyck's don't have dreams.) He can let you give him happiness and humanity. He can work by your side; the two of you, beautiful mass murderers, assassinating people left and right and making love in your spare time. Illumi almost sighs with content just at the thought of this scenario.

Alas, that is not the current situation.

His alone time over the past two nights has helped him come to this conclusion (that he wants to be with you and gently seperate from his family). That, and the fact that he killed numerous innocent people, simply for the sake of taking his anger out. He is ready to face you now, to tell you of his decision.

This decision is his implosion.

This decision to succumb to love, to humanity, will ultimately be his downfall.