#myarawrites

"Oh, crap," she murmured weakly as her senses awakened little by little, and she realized she got drunk last night.

And she got drunk with Hisoka. His oddly sweet and spicy smell was all over the room.

Machi slowly turned in the bed. Beneath the covers, the fabric of her clothes rustled with the movement and she briefly wondered what the hell she was wearing, but to see him felt more urgent.

That jerk.

She couldn't feign surprise anymore, realizing she woke up next to him. Not when she had lost count of how many times it happened. Willingly. Shamefully. Her eyes rolled when she faced his pathetic slumber features, so peaceful and almost innocent, but the movement made her head hurt even more. Her lids closed and her body squirmed with the twinge of pain, only to be embraced by his strong arms.

"Machi…" Hisoka's voice was low and needy right in her ear, "You look so beautiful, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen…"

"Oi! Cut it out!" For as much as the bare skin of his chest felt warm, Machi pushed him away feeling her cheeks burning. "What the hell happened last night?"

As he lazily — annoyingly — was making himself comfortable on his back with his eyes still closed, she impatiently shook his shoulder. Hisoka hummed softly and slowly revealed his golden irises focused on her. His lips sweetly curling up made her feel frustrated.

"Nevermind, I can find it out myself." Machi abruptly moved the covers away and jumped out of bed, losing balance for a second and feeling silly immediately. Not only was the alcohol still intoxicating her brain and weakening her body, that thing she was wearing was limiting her movements and instinctively she lifted the skirt a little to free her feet.

"I told you, you look beautiful…" Hisoka hummed with some excitement and she turned to give him a reply but her eyes stopped at the mirror right beside her, in front of the bed.

"Oh, no…" it was a simple A-line gown, but very clearly and undoubtedly a wedding gown, as white as snow and with delicate embroideries on the hem. A silver tiara was hanging from her messy hair and Machi numbly took it off before finally turning to him as she intended. "What did you do?"

This was different for Machi. She could feel his breath, so close to hers that her heart was racing, and his body heat made her own tingle in a way she had never felt before. She never liked to be touched before. All the physical contact she had experienced in the past were violent, abuses from which she had happily learned to defend herself fiercely. To have accepted, after thinking long and hard on the matter, to be kissed by Hisoka could be considered a small and sweet personal achievement, given the bitter scenario that had been her life until then.

After a few moments that felt too long and too brief at the same time somehow, he parted his lips from hers with an altered breath and a slight moan. He seemed thrilled, still he had not tried to guide that kiss to something deeper than it had been: a kiss on the lips as he had asked and she had agreed upon; and she silently thanked him for that.

When their eyes met, she stared at him awkwardly and he loosened his hold around her, giving the girl room to shrink, almost hiding in the old, threadbare and shattered bench that was once part of a car, illuminated by a weak flashlight. Around them, the abandoned garbage field, that at that time was deserted. Above, only a sky of countless stars.

He laid his head on her lap and stared at her, in tender silence, reaching up to the short, messy pink hairs with his fingertips, playing with them absently. It took her a while to realize that she could do the same with his red hair, and when she did, it made him smile in a way that she couldn't help but smile in return, albeit timidly.

At that moment, they looked like normal kids; kids who did not have the tragic baggage they carried from their pasts, from their surroundings.

"Did you like it?" He eagerly asked, breaking the silence.

In response, she smiled again and shrugged. It would be too much to ask her to verbalize it, admitting that out loud was something she probably would never do. On his turn, he was back at her side and bringing his face close to hers again, fingers still in her hair, tucking it away from her blue eyes and delicate features.

"Can I kiss you again?"

This time, she took the lead and touched his lips with hers, in a succession of small flimsy kisses that united as a deep one when he held her face between his hands and pulled her towards him at once. She was about to embrace him when she heard a familiar voice calling her name in the distance, which made her arms, instead of holding him, pull him away immediately.

"Gotta go!" She said with urgency, reaching for the flashlight and leaving him to watch her walk away from the bench.

Even though she had no family, she had at that moment people to care about and who would care for her, being that support as mutual as possible. It wouldn't feel right if any of them knew she was alone at night with him. Kissing him. Not that it was wrong or forbidden in any sense but they would be curious about it and mock her for being "in love with the weirdo". She wasn't in love, she just wanted to kiss him, and Hisoka wasn't a weirdo… not as much as they believed he was at least.

"Can we do it again?" He asked before she was too far to hear him pleading.

"If you don't go away again!" She replied, turning her body gracefully to look at him alone on the bench one more time.

"Go away with me!" The boy positioned his hands around his mouth so that the sound echoed louder to her, and her reaction this time was to shake her head in an almost imperceptible negative answer.

The negative answer was clearer in her eyes, which suddenly became sad. For some reason, his words made her feel that he would indeed go away again and this time for good. She felt, in her core, that if they met once more things would be different. And painful.

"Machi, you're home!"

"No, I'm leaving."

She said without thinking and without thinking she turned around and walked out of that weird scenario. Her mind was filled with questions but the answer to all of them was probably that Hisoka loved to tease her. So, if he was bored enough, it would be a pleasure to him to track her down and give himself the trouble of decorating her place to pretend he celebrated something when clearly neither he or she cared about Christmas at all. But she wasn't in the mood to be his audience so it would be less of a bother to find a new place. Maybe. She was almost sure of that.

Little snowflakes were falling now but she only noticed it when Hisoka called her name and ran to her. His hair started to get covered by the little white flakes and his clear skin was getting flushed with no makeup to hide it. She huffed, taking a step back but standing there to listen to him.

"I'm not doing it just to tease you, silly girl."

"There's no other reason for you to do it."

"Actually there is," his lips curled up almost sweetly and he got a little closer to her, not touching her, however. Machi knew he was testing her limits and decided she could accept that small distance between them.

"But you won't tell me."

"I'd rather show you."

His breath was visible with the cold and his voice was as velvety as it got when he was trying to seduce her. Still, she looked away.

"I've seen enough and I hated all that. Christmas sucks, thought you agreed with it."

"It does when we're apart," Hisoka touched her face and she creased her eyebrows, not because of his cold fingers sliding slowly on her skin but because of his words.

"You've been watching too many romcoms, haven't you?" She smirked with irony but his eyes shined as if he had accepted it as a smile.

"Maybe… but I didn't want to let you spend this night alone…"

Machi didn't stop him when his face got dangerously closer to hers as he spoke. She didn't avoid him when his cold lips touched hers, although she took a while to allow his tongue to slide inside her mouth. He gently pulled her face up towards his and got deeper, slowly, making her feel a little dizzy as he was apparently savoring her warmth as if it was his personal Christmas Eve supper. He made her feel like he craved it and had dreamed of it for the weeks they had been apart.

It was so pathetic, just like the Christmas decorations. And she didn't know why — it wasn't supposed to happen — but it made her feel nice.

"Let's go inside," she broke the kiss, shaking her head lightly because she'd just realized she wanted it. She would never admit it, however. "You're freezing."

Hisoka hummed pleasantly and lifted her up in his arms, carrying her bridal style despite her brief and weak protest.

"Thanks for keeping me warm, Machi."

"Shut up," she spat and rolled her eyes when they got back to the extravagant living room. "And I'm crashing these stupid dolls."

After Paku made a toast for her and the audience cheered for the bride, who could only smile awkwardly, the lights went down so briefly Machi saw nothing but a blur, until a sultry beat started playing and the lights were out again.

The women around started cheering louder, some even shouting obscenities, but Machi only understood the overwhelming excitement when the stripper reached her field of vision.

He wasn't a ridiculous buff dude in a cheap policeman or firefighter costume as she expected. The man slowly dancing for her in seductive movements was pretty handsome, actually. Dashingly beautiful even. Knowing the industry, Machi wondered if he was a model making a living before stardom on the runway. His fame on that stage seemed to be already solid.

Pakunoda probably had paid for the best.

And the best was that tall, muscular redhead, unbuttoning what appeared to be an expensive suit and revealing a shirt already undone that gave her a free glimpse of his chest. His lips curved up in a deviant smile when he noticed the way she was looking at him and Machi felt her face burning. Must be the tequila.

But tequila didn't stop her from sinking in her seat when he got closer, hips moving like a sin, as if showing off what he was capable of. She tried to look away, but his long fingers captured her chin and delicately guided her to face his foxy eyes.

"Have you been a bad girl? You look very guilty…" he whispered in her ear and moved back with a smug smirk on his face. Her lips parted to tell him something but his remark caught her so off-guard she couldn't think quicker than he moved behind her. "Maybe you're having some naughty thoughts…"

His breath warmed the skin behind her ear. Machi felt a shiver, goosebumps on her skin, and quickly crossed one arm in front of her chest as if it could protect her. From what? She didn't know.

"Shut up and dance," she said quietly, maybe in a way he couldn't listen beyond the music playing, but he hummed pleasantly in response either way.

He was really good at what he did, so much so he could make someone as cold as Machi fluster. His body was now swaying in front of her, hands touching himself, teasing her with the sight of his abs, his deep v-cut that made her eyes wander for a second before desperately looking for her bridesmaid to take her out of there.

But the lights wouldn't let her find Paku, wouldn't let her give her a "help me" stare. Feeling like she was there alone with the stripper, Machi could do nothing but bite her cheek and squeeze her arm. She had to watch as he took off his shirt, finally revealing all of the pale complexion of his chest, his abs, his arms. His skin looked so soft, the flesh underneath so firm, muscles drawing such unique geography, standing out veins where pure lust seemed to run.

Being in front of him felt more and more like being in front of a living, dancing fire. Mesmerizing and full of danger. Capable of making her forget why she was there for a moment, forget all the audience envious of her place, forget she would never sleep with someone by impulse, let alone someone as seductive as he was. He was probably used to having people throwing themselves at him and now he was using it to make money, which was fair.

Unfair was the fantasies taking place in her mind, and how uncomfortable the wetness between her legs was feeling.

Strips were supposed to be stupid, weren't they?

That was what Machi believed, and now she caught herself wishing he was hard by the time his pants were off. But she was disappointed when she saw he wasn't. There was a significant bulge in his skimpy underwear, sure. But she wanted more. Much more than she could have.

And she was sure he could read her mind by the way he was staring at her when their eyes met. Like a promise that he still could take her backstage and give her what she wanted so desperately.

And with pleasure.

His eyes were so intense Machi only realized the dance was over when he took her hand, ever so politely, to kiss it.

"Your fiance is very lucky, you're the most beautiful bride I've ever seen," he murmured warmly against her skin.

...

"Are you sure you're gonna be ok?" Pakunoda asked Machi while trying to put a very drunk, almost passing out Shizuku in the backseat of the Uber.

"She needs you more than I do, don't worry," Machi gave her a reassuring smile, then checked her phone and shrugged. "My Uber is almost here anyway."

"Text me when you get home?"

"Sure I will."

Machi opened her arms for a goodbye hug, but Paku leaned to wrap her in a tight, affectionate hug, rocking her side to side.

"I'm so happy for you! You're gonna be such an amazing bride, I'm sure Chrollo will cry when he sees you walking down the aisle!"

"Hey…" Machi awkwardly patted her friend's back. "Ah… thank you for the party, Paku. I had fun today."

Paku looked at her smiling while still grabbing her by the shoulders. Machi couldn't help but smile back.

"I'm happy you had, you deserve it," she kissed her cheek and Machi resisted the urge to complain about it.

Paku was her best friend and she was emotional… and a little drunk still, even holding her drink way better than Shizuku, to whom she ran to right after saying goodbye.

Alone on the sidewalk, Machi sighed. She couldn't believe she survived the night, but there she was, safe and sound after her own bachelorette party.

"You're actually a bad girl, aren't you?" The voice behind startled her. It was a known voice but somehow it sounded… different? Clearer? "Lying to your friends like that…"

Machi turned around to see the stripper leaning against the wall, now dressed in a hoodie with a playing-cards pattern. D&G, 2018 spring collection. A little outdated but he wore it so well no one would mind the fact. Maybe the fashion house would even consider bringing it back just because of him.

"Excuse me? I don't know what you're talking about," she turned her back to him again, as if uninterested.

"Your Uber is stuck in traffic, it hasn't moved an inch so far and if it's because of a car crash then who knows, they might even cancel your ride," his voice approached her little by little, step by step until Machi realized he was casually standing at her side. "I would offer to take you home but I don't think you would accept it, so… what about a last date before you're a married woman? We can kill some time until traffic is cleared..."

Machi opened her mouth but wasn't able to formulate a sentence readily. She didn't know what outraged her the most: the fact that he was peeping at her phone or his insane offer.

"Thought you were paid enough for the night," she spat, averting her eyes quickly to her phone but catching a glimpse of his reaction. Closed eyes, sly smirk, knowing hum. Such a jerk, and yet so attractive.

"That's offensive, you know," he didn't sound offended at all. "I'm not an escort, dear, I would ask you out on a date anytime but this will probably be my only chance, right?"

"Why?" She asked nonchalantly, avoiding looking at him and his alluring golden eyes.

"You're intriguing, I feel like I have to know you better-"

"Have to," she interrupted him mockingly, thumb scrolling her Instagram feed relentlessly. Such a cheap talk, still it was working so well she closed the app the second a picture of Chrollo popped up in front of her. At least he seemed to be enjoying his own bachelor party.

The stripper chuckled.

"Do you know the feeling when you're in front of the sea for the first time and you can't get over how deep, mysterious and endless it looks?" His words made her look at him and the way he smiled at her when she did seemed… honest? Why was he so confusing to her? "You don't want this encounter to be brief. You would throw yourself in the sea if you could, even if you don't know how to swim."

"Sounds dumb," she turned to her phone again but there was nothing left to see there.

"Life is made by dumb decisions."

"Is this how you ended up stripping?"

Their eyes met for a moment and Machi crossed her arms, sighing. What followed was silence, as she awkwardly shifted her weight from her heels to her toes and felt his warm presence by her side. The night breeze brought his scent to her, a hint of musk in the middle of a sweetness hard to explain. So exquisitely feminine and masculine at the same time. So comfortable to be engulfed by it.

The thought of being held by his arms so tightly his smell would impregnate her clothes made her blush.

Would it be such a dumb decision to just hug him, as long as it's just it?

Just a hug?

A brief vibration in her hand interrupted her thoughts. She checked her notifications just to find out her Uber had canceled the ride. Machi bit her cheek and started looking for another one when a sudden determination took over her. She lowered her phone and turned to the stripper.

"Where would you take me if we were out on a date?"

He seemed to be startled by the question but soon smiled at her like that. Like it was genuine.

"I know a great restaurant just a few blocks from here," he turned to her as well and touched her hair unexpectedly, and Machi realized he was just picking a leaf or something trapped there.

Still, she couldn't help but look away, feeling her cheeks warming up.

"Would you take me there?" She asked when she was able to look at him again.

"I would be more than happy to, my dear," he offered her his arm but Machi shook her head.

"This is not a date, I'm just hungry."

She walked past him in a hurry, only to feel him tugging at her elbow and their bodies colliding when she abruptly turned.

"It's the other way, though," he was smiling while still touching her arm, and Machi didn't smile back nor did she move away from him.

She just looked into his eyes, so beautiful and dangerous, even with the cheerfulness of his smile. His smell was taking over her body as she wished for, and she hoped she could feel his scent on her clothes next morning.

But for now, something rather stupid dawned on her.

"I don't know your name," she expressed her thoughts out loud, and he chuckled at her.

"It's Hisoka, lovely…"

"Machi, just Machi, not lovely," she finally moved, walking past him again, this time in the right direction.

"Well, you are lovely, I can't help it," he said behind her, and Machi didn't prevent the clumsy smile from drawing on her face.

...

"What?" Machi took the call without checking who's been calling her so relentlessly the phone vibration wouldn't let her sleep.

Opening her eyes to the morning light was a hard task, so she kept them closed until Paku's voice sounded anxiously in her ear.

"Are you home? Are you fine? Gosh, Machi, we had a deal, why didn't you text me when you got home? I was so worried I-"

"Calm down!" Machi interrupted her, startled. Her eyes suddenly opened at once, and she realized what she did that made her completely forget about texting Paku. She could tell her the truth, tell her she made a mistake, but… how could she do it, really? "I'm fine, I just fell asleep as soon as I got home, ok? I'm sorry that I made you worry."

She looked beside her as Paku kept scolding her on the phone. She was alone, at least, so she sat on the bed and sighed in relief.

"Paku, listen, it'll be a long day, I have to hang up now. I'm truly sorry, ok?"

Machi didn't really wait for her answer before ending the call. It was just too much. The number of notifications in her phone, the thoughts in her head, the scent of musk and something sweet on her bedsheets. Just… too much.

"Good morning, lovely Machi," a cheerful voice sounded from the bathroom's door where she found him, dashingly beautiful wrapped in a towel. "Can I make you coffee?"

"I don't get why do you have to be so stupid," Machi groaned, her threads wrapping tight around his bleeding thigh and almost making a new cut above the one she was supposed to stitch. It would be the first one for the night, the most urgent among his other wounds. "You could have easily killed your opponent in twenty seconds but you have to make a show, don't you? Look at it," she raised her hand dripping with his blood. It was the first time she looked at his face since she met him outside the arena. "Your femoral artery is completely severed, you could be dead now if I wasn't already here."

"I'm lucky you were here for me," Hisoka murmured, somehow honestly. He wouldn't deny his blood loss made him feel dizzy but not enough to ignore how angry she was with him for letting himself get hurt. And that was something new. Machi was always unamused by his shenanigans during fights and never worried about his wounds. More work, more money. Now she was shaking her head and huffing, cheeks flushed like beautiful roses. It was interesting. "Thought I could die for all you care, my dear…"

"And you will, soon enough," her needle shined between her fingers as she concentrated her aura, but for as much as her hatsu was mesmerizing, Hisoka was trapped in her deliciously outraged expression. "I'm not at your disposal and one day you'll have yourself killed by a weakling just because you had to act like a clown."

It took him so much time to perfect the art of reading her and the way she moved, breathed, stared. That behavior was completely out of his book. She sure was hiding something from him and he craved to know what.

"Machi…" he tilted his head, looking for her eyes but she didn't reciprocate. All he got was a glimpse of her lips twitching. "What's going on? Are you getting attached to me perchance?" He hummed teasingly.

"Shut up. Stay still." 

"I don't have to move my leg to-" he flinched. She hit a nerve with her needle on purpose, just to shut him up. Then he chuckled, all that attitude was really amusing but enjoying it wasn't enough. Hisoka really needed to know what was on her mind. "...talk, sweetheart," he completed his thought after she closed the cut on his thigh. "But I sure will have to push a lot of buttons to make you talk, right? What's the matter?"

"Nothing," she said with a frown before moving on to the next wound.

And that was all she was gonna say for the night. Nothing when he touched her hand right after she finished her job. Nothing when he whispered in her ear about how feral she was and how much he was loving it. And when he kissed her, although she kissed him back, she said nothing. Silently, with fire in her eyes and lust to have him under the light, delicate weight of her body all night, Machi said nothing.

But Hisoka knew sometimes the truth lies in the next morning, so he watched her sleeping, counting the minutes for the sun to shine through the windows.

When Machi finally woke up, she found herself alone. So she hugged his pillow and sighed, his smell engulfing her senses. In the middle of everything she thought it would make her sick but it was actually nice. Much nicer than it was supposed to be. And she hated how she loved it.

Soon another smell would fill the room, however, and this time it wasn't for good. She turned and found him leaving a tray over the table while humming good morning, and whatever was on it, it was surely hideous.

"What is it?" She asked urgently, hand covering her mouth in quick reflex as her stomach turned.

"Scrambled eggs," he analyzed her sudden reaction, suspicion in his eyes, "thought you liked it."

Machi didn't answer. She ran to the bathroom instead, closing the door behind her with a loud thump. What she couldn't hide was the sound of what she was doing, and although it took a while for Hisoka to do the math -- not because it was hard to sum things up, but because the results were too unexpected to easily believe them -- he invaded the bathroom to find her sitting on the edge of the tub, awkwardly cleaning her mouth with the back of her hand.

"You're pregnant," he concluded, and she looked at his eyes in a way he couldn't decipher. It wasn't a blank stare, on the contrary, it was so full of emotions he got confused about which was the right one. Rage? Guilt? Tenderness? Shame? Still, he needed to hear that from her. "Machi, you're pregnant, aren't you?"

She looked away and motioned as if she was about to get up when he quickly reached her and placed both hands on her hips to pin her down on the edge of the tub. He wasn't letting her run away this time. 

Hisoka kneeled before her and insistently searched for her eyes until she looked back at him. 

"I don't know if I'll keep it," she finally said with a quiet murmur and he felt his legs get weak but it didn't show.

She wasn't simply mad at him for being reckless, she was experiencing mood swings… or the feeling of being worried about the father of her child. Suddenly, the thought didn't sound bad in his mind. Hisoka had never considered the possibility of getting a woman pregnant before. It felt absurd. So if any woman was telling him she was pregnant and considering abortion, he wouldn't mind. It would be a relief even. But Machi wasn't any woman, and being sure she was pregnant hit differently.

His child with her wouldn't be a nuisance he would rather ignore. It would be the undeniable fruit of the crazy, unconventional, irresistible love affair they had. Nevertheless, love. A result of him and the woman he adored so much he had got himself hurt multiple times just to have a glimpse of her. Why would he deny it? And the growing feeling of pride and ecstasy pumping through his veins at the thought of her carrying his baby in her round little belly and then later in her arms. The thought of her giving unrestricted, unconditional love to a part of him she would have by her side forever, no matter what happened to him. To them.

He wanted it. He wanted to have the chance of seeing how bright it would be, the light of its eyes. So much so he threw himself against her chest, holding her so tightly against him he could feel her warm belly perfectly on his skin. 

An unexpected move. An unexpected feeling. What was not unexpected about that morning?

❥ Hisoka and Machi met briefly in Meteor City when they were kids. He wasn't born there, but he was left there when he was very young. She found him after he got beaten up by other kids and helped him. He shared his bubble gum with her as payment.

❥ But soon he wandered away. Years later when he got into the Troupe she remembered him but he'd never said a word about meeting her before, so she also never mentioned anything.

❥ Her intuition doesn't work with him. Maybe because he's too unpredictable, maybe because her judgement about him is clouded by her feelings, but she can never tell what's going on about him.

❥ So she ended up being around him more than necessary, unlike she does with other people. She was intrigued by him, and felt the need to understand him better.

❥ Of course, she would never admit it.

❥ Hisoka was also very intrigued by her. At first, he was curious about her proximity to Chrollo but seeing how strong, bold, fearless and skillful she is really caught his attention.

❥ The fact that he was never really interested in fighting her but still was interested in her personality and skills nonetheless also made him wonder for a while. But soon he realized he wanted her.

❥ It wasn't as easy on her her part tho. Machi struggled against her feelings for months (and obviously, it didn't work).

❥ Hisoka was never interested in any Phantom Troupe missions and used to ignore pretty much everyone else who tried to contact him but Machi. If she was involved he would be quick to accept the mission. It made all the Troupe naturally see her as the only person who could deal with him.

❥ It also made them tease her a lot about his interest in her.

❥ Speaking of their missions together, he absolutely loved to watch her in action.

❥ And if they had to dress up he would be thrilled to see her in different clothes.

❥ Not to mention that if they were undercover he would take any chances to act like they're on a date.

❥ Their first kiss was right after a mission btw. It was a particularly strong target and she blamed the adrenaline rush. Either way they were both very sensitive when it happened.

❥ Was it only the first kiss? Oh, well...

❥ Machi wanted to keep it as a secret and Hisoka kept teasing her about letting the whole Troupe knows. Sometimes he would touch her during meetings or under the table but he'd never really let anyone see it.

❥ Not that he wanted to be kept a secret, he certainly did not. But he knew he would lose her if he acted like a jerk on this matter.

❥ But he would act like a jerk time and again during fights just to have her coming to him to stitch him up. Let's say Machi knows all the rooms he'd ever stayed on Heaven's Arena very well.

❥ He also let himself get hurt pretty badly when she was trying to stay away from him when he revealed his true intentions of fighting Chrollo. For as much as she was angry with him, seeing him in such a pathetic condition softened her heart a little bit.

❥ Not that it meant they were back together. Of course it didn't.

❥ (Truth is, it did).

❥ Now, getting to the angst part, she was very torned apart when he was about to fight Chrollo. She absolutely didn't want it to happen. At all. She didn't want him to kill Chrollo, she didn't want Chrollo to kill him, she just wanted things to remain the same.

❥ But they couldn't. She went to his floor on Heaven's Arena for a last goodbye and she tried to ask him not to fight Chrollo but she knew it would be useless. So she said nothing. Hisoka knew what was on her mind so he respected her silence. He could say nothing to soothe her anyway.

❥ When he came back to life in front of her the was... Relieved! She thought for a second her dreams came true, he was alive, he would give up his obsession on Chrollo and get a new interest so they could just be lovers again. She was wrong.

Oops, got too angst! Let's get back to happier headcanons:

❥ Hisoka is a teaser, this is a fact. But Machi also loves to have some fun with him sometimes. She particularly likes to steal stuff from him. It started with little things, like an earring or a shirt or some cards from his deck. Soon she had his bank account memorized and would use his money to buy silly things.

❥ When he asked her if she happened to know anything about the little mouse stealing his things she played innocent and told him it couldn't be her or anyone from the Troupe because they had an inside rule that forbidden it.

❥ "Funny how I've never heard about this rule..."

❥ "Well, now you do!"

❥ Truth is, Hisoka is not mad at all about this. He actually finds it endearing.

❥ She tried to throw away the stuff she stole from him but couldn't. She let them safe in a secret apartment she keeps, where she stays between missions.

❥ She couldn't keep this place a secret from him for too long tho. In a nice Summer night he simply came in through her balcony to find her wearing nothing but one of his missing shirts.

❥ "Looks like I've found a little naughty mouse ♡"

❥ Well, she had to get used to him appearing out of nowhere in her place.

❥ To punish him, she makes him do her chores or else he can't touch her.

❥ Obviously he does everything to her without complaining but he always expects her compliments when he's done.

❥ He often gets more than this.

❥ Hisoka loves to take her out for drinks and dancing because he likes to see her acting a little more spontaneously.

❥ Once they had a wild weekend at Glam Gas Land and she woke up beside him on a cheap wedding dress and a ring on her finger.

❥ She freaked out while he was very amused by it.

❥ In the end he reminded her she didn't have legal documents, so how could she legally marry him?

❥ Still she was very shocked she even accepted to do such a thing. And he was over the moon about it.

❥ She kept the ring.

❥ He likes to dye his hair the same color as hers. It's his favorite shade of pink.

❥ They often do their nails and make up together but Hisoka likes to ruin their lipsticks.

❥ What's he supposed to do tho? He just can't resist her lips when they're cherry red.

❥ He absolutely steals her panties and wears them when they're away for too long and he misses her.

❥ He's always acting silly to try to make her smile. And sometimes it works.

❥ They're not very good in talking about their feelings. Their love language is definitely acts of service. They're always taking care of each other.

A peaceful little smile adorned his unconcerned expression as he walked in the elevator, turning his back to the magician to search for his floor in the myriad of numbers of the panel. Hundreds of buttons to get to his own in Heaven’s Arena, right above the one that was lightened up. Chrollo raised his hand to press it but was stopped by Hisoka’s grip on his wrist. Damp hand traced his skin, getting under his sleeve and then bringing his fingers to that lustful mouth, that covered them in lustful kisses.

“What are you doing?” Chrollo slowly turned to him, voice still sounding casual and unaffected.

“I’m just curious to know what you hide under your sleeve,” Hisoka reached the inside of his wrist, placing his lips against it and sucking in a way Chrollo could almost feel his blood being drawn by the pressure to give him his metallic taste. “Tricks, or your heart, boss?”

He said against his sensitive skin, warm breath tickling it so that Chrollo’s first impulse was to pull his wrist back. But Hisoka was stronger than him. His willpower, so high after a fight, could get him on his knees so easily if he wanted to. And he did. This is why he had to stay alert under his façade, holding his ground while smiling. The magician could never know the effect he really had on him.

“And what did you find?” Their eyes locked, a silent exchange, almost playful. Almost teasing.

Or so Chrollo wished.

“What I love the most about you.”

He waited for Hisoka to elaborate but he didn’t. He wouldn’t make himself clear when he could leave him with a riddle. It just made Chrollo certain: he should be disgusted by him. By his suspicious demeanor, his disrespectful manners, his intrusive touches. He should be disgusted by his saliva shining on his now flushed wrist, his hand dirty with his and someone else’s body fluids. By logic, it was disgusting. Given his own demeanor, he should be at least indifferent to it.

But Chrollo was allured by it. Such a monstrous mistake, being seduced by the cheapest of the devils.

The elevator stopped suddenly, making him feel his chest squeezing a little tight. The ring sounded, doors opened to Hisoka’s floor, so like his own. The magician finally broke contact, letting go of his arm and walking past him as if he was nothing that mattered. So different from a second ago. Chrollo didn’t move, however. He waited for the doors to close again, the elevator to move and get him out of his trance.

It was just a matter of days for him to fight Hisoka, and then this problem would be over.

It took him longer than necessary to realize the doors had closed but the elevator was still stuck in the same place. Then he looked at the panel, his floor button dark for it was never pressed. Chrollo sighed deeply, his defenses down for a moment as he raised his hand just to be stopped again by the doors opening in front of him.

Hisoka leaned seductively against one of them, keeping the elevator open. Apparently, he was interested again, or it was just a part of his plans all along. To see how long it would take for Chrollo to notice he failed to press a simple button because of him.

She huffed when she heard him coughing.

Blood spilled even more from his insides, tainting the already messy scenario. An alternating orange, red and pink neon light turned everything a little psychedelic and even more nauseating.

“Let me see it.”

“I… I don’t think I...” he tried to say he wouldn’t be able to change the voice call to a video one. He still couldn’t see much of the screen. But when something green flashed on his phone, contrasting violently with the red, he knew he should tap it somehow with all the blood.

After lagging for a while, the image changed to something diffused. Was she in the dark? What he could see of her blue eyes were illuminated only by the phone screen light, it seemed.

"Jesus fuck…" she muttered with her usual cold tone. The use of a sacred name mixed with profanity made Hisoka smile even wider. He surely looked like a mess to cause such a reaction. "Where are you?"

"Y-york Shin…" the cough interrupted him again. He tried to find something to show her. Speaking would be as effective as trying to send her his location. Hisoka rolled on his back, the lacerating pain taking over his ribs to his abdomen in a cold wave and making him whimper. There was a shiny neon billboard on the top of the building near him. That was the source of the ceaselessly light. The Mighty Fox, a foxy lady moving left and right. Left and right. He almost got distracted, but in the end, he managed to turn his phone camera to the sign.

"Of course you are there…" this time Machi sounded… tired. "Give me fifteen minutes, but listen: it won't be cheap."

"I'll give you anything you want…" his husky voice could form a whole sentence for the first time without being interrupted, which was funny. He could feel the liquid pooling down his throat. Everything tasted like iron.

"I highly doubt it."

"Why… d-do you think so lowly about me…?" The stutter came back, but there was no reply this time. He tried to turn his phone to himself again, but it slipped from his hand and crashed against the ground beside him.

He could see the dark screen before it fell, however. She had already hung up.

***

Machi stood in front of the window where she could see the neon billboard of the foxy lady dancing. It was less than five minutes away from her.

She sighed.

"Is there any problem?" The girl with purple hair asked from her bed. Her amber eyes looked startled.

Thankfully she was polite enough not to say anything when she was still on the call.

"Yes, there is," Machi said, nonchalantly. "I actually need you to go now, I'm sorry."

She hoped she didn't fail on being polite now. She didn't want to sound rude, not with her, at least.

"I've thought I could spend the night… " The girl insisted, getting up from the bed slowly as if there was a chance of Machi changing her mind.

But she was already pulling up her jeans without looking at her.

"Told you my job was complicated," she said, hearing a deep breath as a response. "C'mon, I'll stay with you until your cab arrives."

"Can I call you later?" The girl asked, and Machi finally looked at her doe eyes.

She wished she had a mind to deal with her better, but it was so hard when another set of amber eyes had already taken away her inner peace.

"Wait for me to text you, I might be busy for a while."

The girl muttered sure, babe. The way she sounded hurt by it started to annoy Machi. Granted, she didn't want to make her feel bad, but at the same time, she had never promised her anything.

She couldn't.

She was nowhere near ready to commit and being pressed for it, even slightly, wouldn't help.

***

"You look like a pile of shit."

Everything looked like a pile of shit if she were honest. The back alley illuminated by that irritating neon billboard was covered in blood: up and down, left and right. Blood stuck in her sneakers as she approached what appeared to be just another dead body in the middle of a dozen, but was really Hisoka. The ferrous smell could be felt from across the street, and she thought he was lucky that part of the city was long forgotten by God. If anyone had called an ambulance for him, he would be a dead man sooner rather than later. Normal doctors wouldn't know how to deal with him.

"Thank you," he breathed quickly, chest moving in a way she knew was hurtful. The pain was almost palpable. "Y-you look amazing as a-always."

Machi crouched down beside him and carefully touched his abdomen. A deep cut crossed all the way from his right ribs to the left side of his waist. The blood made it difficult for her to see exactly how deep it was. It was troublesome, for it had certainly hit internal organs and needed her stitches urgently, but she wouldn’t be able to do it until his hemorrhage was controlled.

She looked at his other wounds. Hisoka had many bruises she could do nothing about at the moment. His face was swollen and full of bumps, making him look hideous. She sighed, wondering if he knew how bad he looked. A particular laceration came to her attention: a very characteristic hole on his left shoulder. She dug her thumb and forefinger there mercilessly, feeling him flinch in pain when she pulled out the bullet.

“Seriously?” She showed the projectile to him before tossing it away. “I hope it was bathed in nen when it hit you.”

“I… I can’t recall...” he smiled at her, and she knew beneath the blood, bruises, and bumps, he was feigning innocence.

“Is this your last resort to try to get my attention, Hisoka?” She breathed exasperated, taking off her hoodie to press it against his deepest cut on the abdomen. “Trying to kill yourself in meaningless fights?”

“L-life is mean-meaningless without y-you, Machi...” his hand tried to reach hers over the hoodie, and she took it to replace her effort in keeping it pressured so she could continue checking him. “I f-feel like… something’s missing...”

“Yeah, right,” she said in a skeptical tone, moving to see the conditions of his legs. “Fighting Danchou is what gives you meaning and makes you complete, Hisoka. Cut the crap.”

“I m-mean I-” his words were interrupted by a painful groan when she repositioned his right leg’s bones without warning.

“We’ll have to go to my place, I won’t be able to do much here,” she huffed, resting her bloody hands on her hips. “And you’ll have to stand somehow because there’s no way I’m carrying you in my arms.”

“W-what a pity...” he murmured with a faint smug smile on his face when Machi got closer to lift his right arm and position his shoulder over hers. She helped him get up quite easily. His weight wasn’t something beyond her strength, and even if she had to carry him in her arms, she would. But he was in condition to suffer for some blocks. “Have you b-been kissed?” He asked out of the blue, startling Machi a little.

She didn’t answer, however. And after some difficult steps on his behalf, he tried to look closer at her face before insisting on the matter:

“You look v-very kissed...”

***

“What are you doing here?” Machi finally let a passionate emotion escape with her voice when she saw the purple-haired girl at her door.

Indignation. Fear.

The girl was weak. Utterly boring. He felt almost offended that Machi had let her kiss her lips. Or worse. Hisoka tensed up like a hunting dog who’s caught the scent of an injured animal… one who had been feeding on his food. She had his lover’s taste on her lips, something only him should taste. Such an act could not go unpunished. Almost inevitably, bloodlust emanated painfully from him.

“O-oh… what’s your name, little rabbit?” His voice sounded dangerously deep as he leaned on Machi and lowered his head, his stare fixed on the amber one, however. Her eyes were almost the same hue as his. She shivered.

“Don’t answer him, answer me.” Machi intervened, making the girl look confused at them, one after the other. Maybe she had regretted her decision now.

“I thought you were in trouble, and it seems you really are...” she answered, glaring at him.

Machi rolled her eyes, pulling him roughly with her when she opened the door.

“Don’t worry about me, he’s just an idiot. But you have to go. Now!” She helped him inside her apartment until they got to her couch, where she let his body fall carelessly.

“Ouch, kitten… don’t b-be cruel...” he lay on the couch, pressing her hoodie harder against the bleeding wound. His eyes followed the purpled-haired girl, however, when she stood at the threshold, beckoning Machi.

His lover left him there without a word and went to the girl. She closed the door behind her so they both could talk in the hallway, but he could hear the strange girl calling her babe. His eyes narrowed. In his mind, this inconsequential woman was nothing more than a hookup, and it was bad enough. The fact that she felt intimate enough to call Machi babe made him groan, blood trickling from his mouth again. He tried to get up but ended up slumping down onto the couch again.

The girl was weak, of course, but he was… pathetic. His eyes twitched in annoyance at the thought. Hisoka knew how miserable his condition was right now, every heartbeat a reminder of the pain he was feeling, weighing on his chest until he thought he wouldn't be able to breathe anymore. But he kept breathing. He kept feeding the sad machinery inside his ribcage.

The pain wasn't physical. In fact, he did everything he could to get hurt in the worst way possible to try to forget his feelings. The stupid emotions assaulting him ever since Machi told him that she would no longer be his lover. That she couldn't do this anymore. First, he thought it was just a joke, a way for her to tease him. Another way to be cruel with him for her own amusement. And he would never deny the pain inflicted by her for her pleasure. Granted, it was his pleasure too.

But then he noticed she was in pain too, which made no sense at all. Why was she willingly suffering along with him? Why was she depriving herself if it wasn't for a reward? Why was she telling him she wouldn't be his lover anymore when he could see in her eyes how much she yearned to be with him? Machi was so hard to read sometimes. She was like a huge labyrinth he had never found his way out of, and he was trapped inside her twists and turns for so long it became part of himself.

It was undeniable that she had stirred emotions in him that no other lover ever had, and one of the most sincere things he ever did was embracing it. Is it any wonder he felt like part of him had been taken away when she stopped returning his calls? The days without Machi were just… colorless. Flavorless. Boring. After weeks nothing could excite him anymore. Until he decided to look for her, and when he found his pink-haired beauty he missed so much, she was accompanied by that nobody.

All the numbness gave way to an avalanche of emotions he didn't know how to deal with. He wanted to kill her with a flick of his hand, the purple-haired girl. But it wouldn't be enough. What would be enough? He was choking in desperation. He had to pull those feelings out of his chest.

That's how he ended up like this: all of the feelings still aching in his heart, and blood splattered all around her couch.

"I don't get you!" He heard a voice yelling outside when the door opened again.

"You don't have to," Machi replied coldly before closing the door and locking it.

They were alone now. He and her.

"I knew y-you would come back to me…" he couldn't avoid the pleased smirk, but she ignored it too.

"Lay down, I can't stitch you up like this," she said matter-of-factly before heading to the kitchen.

He obeyed her like a good boy, and when she came back, she threw him a package of frozen peas.

"For your face," she told, and with a pair of scissors in her hand, she knelt beside him to take away the bloody hoodie and start cutting what had left of his shirt. "I don't even know how you're still conscious."

"B-because I've misse-"

"Don't talk," Machi interrupted him. "And the ice will be more helpful if you actually put it on your face."

Only then he noticed he was still holding the package in the air. Hisoka was reluctant about covering his face. He wanted to see her stitching him. He wanted to see her. But she was cautious to not start her delicate job until he conceded.

But it was good then, when he couldn't see anything, but focus all of his senses on the precise and attentive way she was filling his insides with her nen. That delicious thread intertwining with his guts, with his flesh, with his skin. Just like she was with him. Inside of him. When she was so near him, he felt there were no distinctions between them both.

Machi closed his wound and moved on to the bullet hole on his shoulder. There was a minor cut on his left arm she also gave her attention to before standing up and leaving him alone again. Hisoka raised the peas' package to look at her, at her petite figure walking around calmly.

It amazed him how he missed something so trivial.

***

She placed the bowl of water by her knees, dipped the white cloth, and wrung it before leaning over him to clean his face. Machi swept her hand on his forehead to push back his damped hair, then pressed the cloth carefully on his skin to clean the blood. She tried to focus on what she was doing, but the way he was looking at her was distracting her. Yes, his face was distorted and just downright ugly, but his golden eyes shined like they always did before her. There was always a passion, longing, and even some… vulnerability. Hisoka looked like a monster to some, like a disgusting creep to others, but to her, sometimes, he looked like a lost boy, craving so much for human touch.

Machi lowered her head to dip the cloth in the water again. His blood tainted the once crystal clear liquid and dissolved in her hands when she wrung it out. She reached his stained lips and saw his tongue sweeping them right after her touch like a reflex. And before she could move on to his chin and neck, where blood had trickled down, his hand grabbed her wrist.

“Machi...” he tried to pull her even closer, but she resisted. “Can’t you feel it?”

She blinked a few times, trying to decide if it was even something relevant to question. Feel what? Feel the smell of his blood she was so used to? Feel how close she was to his body, just a few inches away from his lips? Feel disgusted by his face? His actions? His reluctance to accept her decision? Feel how much she missed him? Feel everything she fought against in the last few weeks, trying to bury it all under layers and layers of work, sleeping pills, eventual alcohol, and sex with harmless people? She felt like diving without water, many miles below so she could avoid feeling anything.

She actually felt sorry she couldn’t simply erase every memory of him, every touch of his hand over her body. Like that grip.

“We belong together...” he proceeded, not stuttering so much anymore, but with a breathy, languid voice. She looked at his eyes and he smiled, quite sweetly. “We won’t do good apart.”

“Speak for yourself!” She spat, pulling her wrist away from his hand. Machi resumed her duty of cleaning him with an annoyed countenance.

“Are you happy?” He breathed heavily, desperately, in a way that made Machi fear for the stitches to open. “Do you feel complete? Do you love her?”

Machi rolled her eyes. He had to be delusional to believe she would even think about those questions. They were everything she was running from, but it seems it wasn’t enough that her current lover was pressuring her about it. Her past lover had to do the same thing. She sighed, wrung the cloth once again, and placed it over his neck to continue the cleaning when she felt something odd.

She returned the cloth to the bowl, wiped her hands on her t-shirt, and touched both sides of his neck. Then his wrists. He was freezing. Due to the frozen package she gave him to relieve his bumps, she thought it was natural that his face would feel that cold, but the rest of his body shouldn’t. His heavy breathing was probably caused by it as well.

Maybe he really was delusional.

“Your touches feel so good… ” he whispered. “I’ve missed you so much… Machi...”

“I need to warm you up,” she murmured as if she were thinking out loud, getting up immediately to go to the bedroom.

“No, Machi...” he tutted like an upset kid, stretching his arms, trying to reach her. “Just come here… Lie with me...”

But she only returned to him with blankets in her arms. She tried to cover his body, and Hisoka was being pretty obedient while she attended to his feet and legs. But when she reached his chest, he suddenly grabbed her by the waist and pulled her body against his with surprising strength. Machi even questioned his hypothermia, but the chilling sensation of his skin against hers was undeniable.

“Stop it!!” She huffed, trying to get out of his grip, but he wouldn’t let her.

“The best way to warm up someone… is with your own body, Machi… skin to skin...” he murmured with some difficulty, as she still tried to free herself.

However, with a deep breath, she gave up, feeling his chest, cold as porcelain through her t-shirt. If her stitches opened up, he would lose even more blood. And if he was already so cold, losing it would probably force her to take him to a hospital. In a way, it would be a relief to just let his body there on the sidewalk and forget about him. But she didn’t want to.

Deep down, she would rather lie there with him than let him go.

“Why do you have to be such an idiot?” She looked into his eyes in defeat. Those golden eyes, shiny and needy for her. So beautiful, under the bruises and swellings.

“I’m sorry, Machi...” he said quietly, his hand touching her face ever so slightly. Eyes never leaving hers, making it so easy for her to falter.

Machi never planned to have feelings for anyone, let alone for Hisoka. All those emotions she dared not name were liabilities. They meant giving all the power to someone else, exposing herself to be blackmailed, used, or betrayed. Like he already did. So casually, as if it was nothing. As if fighting Chrollo had nothing to do with her and they could perfectly continue doing this. Sharing this hot and comfortable intimacy, giving way to the irrational yearning to touch him, to feel the blood in his mouth with her tongue.

She definitely didn’t want to feel anything for him. But she did. So much that it burned in her heart and made her squirm when she tasted his ferrous saliva in a helpless, senseless kiss. What led her to sink into this traitor so deeply, fingers clutched in his hair, nails scratching his scalp? She probably would never know.

But it was something deeper than any other lover, old or new, had ever made her feel. And she hated it so much.

“I will never forgive you,” she breathed between her teeth, breaking the kiss quite harshly with a hard push.

“I know...” his eyes were veiled in delight, so full of life it let her know the coldness of his body didn’t reach his inner fire. Maybe he wasn’t delusional, then. Only miserly pining for her.

His dirty hands searched for her skin underneath the t-shirt, gently first, drawing a shiver out of her, but then they latched onto her flesh desperately, as he pulled her for another kiss. Soon it would be broken by her, however, when she took off her t-shirt to quickly come back, diving into his mouth.

Machi slipped under the blanket with him, covering them both in a comfortable warm cocoon. She wished it could hide them from the world, from the space, the time, all the problems they were in, so it could be only the two of them. At least for the night.

“This is not a promise,” she whispered against his lips, so intoxicated by his breath she irresistibly shuddered. Hisoka was an addiction, and being that close to him was a curse and a relief at the same time.

“I know, Machi,” he whispered back. “It’s a fact.”

***

The muscles of his face were still sore while he kissed her over and over again. It wasn't bad at all. It actually turned him on even more. Physical pain was a delicacy, something that could either numb his senses or enhance them even more, turning every touch into a pleasurable explosion. And under her touches, there was nothing but delight. Not that he had forgotten about the pain in his chest, no. But it also had become something else: a fuel to his desperation, an urgent need to make it worth the time they’d spent apart. To hold her in a way that she would never leave him anymore.

To erase completely every memory and every trace of the purple-haired girl from her body and replace them with his.

“Don’t push yourself too hard,” Machi pushed him back when he so thirstily jerked forward towards her. One hand on her waist, the other on her breast. Mouth ready to devour her whole. “I won’t stitch you up again.”

“Would you let me bleed?” Hisoka sighed, with a smile on his lips when he felt her tongue tracing his swollen jaw.

“‘Til death,” she purred in his ear.

“‘Til death...” he repeated as if mesmerized, hands reaching down to her jeans, unzipping it to slide his fingers inside her panties, feeling delicious puffy labia leading to a slippery wet slit. How he missed it. “Let me taste you,” he pleaded, touching her firmly to try to convince her.

Machi was ready to lick his chest clean, he knew it. He could see the desire shining in her eyes when she raised them to look at his. Two ravenous beasts staring at each other.

“Do you think you deserve it?” Her body hovered over his, her hips willingly grinding on his hand.

“I think you want it too, Machi...” he tried to raise his body again to capture her lips, but she pushed him down again with a displeased hum and got up.

When she was away from his body he felt so cold.

Hisoka sucked his fingers, the fluids he had captured from her serving as an appetizer as he watched her taking off her jeans and panties all at once. It was the first time he actually felt the taste of something good in weeks.

“Gosh, you’re so needy...” she tilted her head when he tried to reach her again, rushing her to come back to him.

But ignoring the way his hands were trying to lead her back, she turned around, placing her knees on both sides of his face and lying down over his body so sweetly. It was incomparably better than he had planned. Her swift delicate hands were quick to free his shaft from his pants, both pumping all the length so eagerly while he could finally grab her thighs and shove his head between her legs. His mouth covered her entire intimacy, sucking it all at once as if the mere gesture could already wash away the other’s presence from her.

He wanted to relish on Machi and Machi alone.

She licked his precum, running the tip of her tongue slowly on his glans before enveloping them between her lips. He throbbed inside her mouth and fingers, letting out a pleasurable moan against her skin. Hisoka felt he was already burning hot, delirious in fever. Her juices filled his senses as he played with her cunt, they were all he could — and wanted — to experience after such a long time only dreaming about it. He charted every inch of her sex, memorizing again all of her textures, her flavors.

He couldn’t lose them again.

His hands landed on the junction of her thighs, thumbs tracing her labia open, fingers sliding inside her entrance as his tongue lapped on her clit. He was thirsty to feel her orgasm, her body squirming above his, her immense rationality abandoning her mind for that brief moment. The thrill Machi made him feel only confirmed how much he needed her. She was avidly sucking his length, eventually slipping it all the way down her throat, forcing him to halt and whimper in erotic agony, eyes rolling in bliss. Hisoka wanted her to suffer the same way, so he hooked his digits and pressed her harder against his lips.

There was no escape for her. As he went on and on, relentlessly working on her pleasure, he finally felt the always-so-full-of-self-control woman faltering over him. She moaned on his dick, so helpless while her legs shuddered around him and he knew he was in the right way. He didn’t mind when she took him out of the wet warmth of her mouth to just shakily pump him. What mattered is that he felt it finally: her walls throbbing and clenching strongly on his fingers, her fluids pouring generously on his face.

The utmost sensation for him.

“Did she ever make you cum like this?” He wondered out loud in a soft purr, eyes fixed on the remaining signs of her orgasm.

“What?” She asked so candidly it was obvious she didn’t listen. She was still so high she couldn’t even register what he said.

It was perfect. It was everything he could ask for and the perfect answer to his question. He knew he was the only one capable of making her lose her mind like this.

And as if the devils of greed, lust, and pride had taken over his being, Hisoka threw Machi on the couch at the same time he slipped out of her. He took her by the knees, pulling her body to the edge to meet his — to join his, without further ado, so he could do whatever he wanted with her without hearing her worrying about his wound. He didn’t care. He could bleed his guts out over her body and he would be happy, as long as he was buried deep inside her.

His hands clawed her face and her neck, bringing her little mouth closer for an insane kiss, so he could occupy her lips, her head, her thoughts. So he could fill her whole perfect body with each thrust, hitting her cervix and echoing in her desperate, loud breathing. Breasts bouncing beautifully, perky nipples rubbing up and down ever so slightly against his chest, faster and faster to the rhythm of his hips.

Machi dug her teeth in his sore flesh, licking blood from his lips while intonating the chant of her pleasure in choir with him. It was a feral melody, full of grunts and groans and senseless moans.

Hisoka rolled his eyes when he felt a sting of pain in his abs. He pushed her hair back, locking her head in place so he could look down to capture the vision of their bodies mingling beyond a delicate trace of fresh blood. She would make him stop if she saw it, but how could he? When her body fluttered under his and her knees tried to squeeze him between them. Her juices glistened on his cock like exquisite jewelry.

The Queen of his Hearts, crowning the Joker in the best way possible.

Machi was his. His.

As she sweetly mewled, pulling him closer to her body with her legs, her arms, and her intimacy throbbing and clenching as if trying to suck his soul along with his cum, he wanted to look at her eyes. The most beautiful, defiant, deadly cold eyes he ever saw. And he loved them. And he loved all the white-hot feelings he took from them: anger, passion, pleasure, and rebellion when facing the cruel truth that was loving his eyes as well. He could see it all at once in the shining blue now, enrapturing his senses completely and drinking his fluids dry.

He felt his vision blurring, his moans becoming brutal howls and his shaft pulsating as violently as his heart on his chest.

Finally, he was alive.

He found his life inside of her, and it felt so good.

***

She woke up slowly to that warm, undefined feeling. It was comfortable, familiar, intimate. The smell filled her lungs like home, and she was so homesick her arms closed tighter around his waist. And then she finally realized she wasn't alone, and she wasn't with a harmless stranger either. Her eyes opened to the image of his red hair and his broad, pale shoulders. His back looked so strange without the spider tattoo there, but for as much as she hated that blank space, the proof of his treason, she breathed deeply and held him one more time against her naked body. It was a sluggish movement, but he reacted slower and lazier than her, in soft reflections and velvet murmurs.

Hisoka was sleeping deeply, as he should. Machi was amazed by how he managed to stay awake for so long last night. If she hadn't seen all the blood — and his internal organs, quite literally — she would have doubted his condition was serious. He really was a monster. A stubborn and childish one. She had gotten carried away, giving in to his whims when she knew she wasn't supposed to, for multiple reasons. But at the moment, everything felt so urgent, so desperate. She was overwhelmed with the need to remember his body, his taste, the pleasure they shared. Everything that felt like paradise and it seemed she could only have with him. The devil.

It was an irony, a curse. But she had wondered if she could manage it, because last night, she didn't want to be away from him again.

And she still didn't want to part, even after he bled over her, passing out after orgasming like a useless mess. He was nothing but trouble sometimes. She had to stitch him up again and guide a half-conscious Hisoka to bed, all the while dealing with his wandering hands, his sluggish horniness. His pleading eyes while trying to convince her how lost he was. How much he needed her. How his feelings about her were the same as her feelings about him.

All lies. But deep down it moved her, how he gave himself the trouble when his mind was so clearly so hazy. It was almost logical to assume it was the truth. Good thing she knew better than this.

And too bad she still wanted him. She wanted him. She wanted him. What a painful confession to her own mind.

“Why are you so tense?” His deep, hoarse voice asked out of the blue, startling her a little bit. He brought her hand to his lips and lazily kissed it.

“I’m not, you must’ve been dreaming,” she dismissed him casually, pulling her hand to herself and finally parting, turning her back to him.

Machi reached for her phone on the nightstand idly, just for habit. 7h47 am. 34 missed calls. 22 new messages. She sighed. Unlike Hisoka’s missed calls and messages, those ones made her feel nothing but a nuisance. Granted, he annoyed her, but there was always something more.

Chrollo once said to her he found it funny how humans are more attracted by the things that hurt the most, like moths craving for light. And she was so human sometimes.

She felt Hisoka turn to hug her and turned off the screen immediately so he couldn’t see the name of the one sending her so many messages. Knowing her face was enough. For as much as Machi didn’t want to answer the girl, she didn’t wish her badly either.

“You said you would give me anything I wanted as payment,” she stated coldly.

He hummed as an answer, nuzzling his nose on the crook of her neck.

“Leave the girl alone,” she went straight to the point. “And 1 million, you were a real headache last night.”

“Is she important to you?” he whispered in her ear, making her shiver.

“Does it matter to you now? If it does I’m ready to negotiate you leaving Chrollo alone as well.”

She felt his lips curving upward against her skin.

“She’s not important to you. You were only using the poor girl to try to forget me,” he said like the jerk he was, and she nudged him. Lightly. She didn’t want to stitch him for the third time. “You’re so mean, Machi...”

“Shut up,” her hand covered his mouth on her back. Then she turned to him, replacing her hand with her lips in a quick kiss. “Just leave her alone, you owe me this.”

“Will you be my lover again?” he pushed her fringe back, then traced her face with his fingers as if it was something fragile. Precious. Eyes with a mix of malice and vulnerability framed by his skin still reddened and swollen. But it didn’t matter.

She couldn’t take her eyes away from his.

“I was never your lover, and I’ll never be.”

She was a fact.