Hurricane of Glass | GonKillu

Chapter 3

(KILLUA'S pov)

I woke up to my alarm. I looked around trying to remember what happened when the thoughts of last night came flooding back. I fell asleep on Gon! A immediately made its way onto my cheeks, I slept on Gon and he LET me-? I choked down my surprise and sighed, of course he'd let me. I'm like his annoying little brother. That's apparently all i'll ever be. I rubbed the remaining sleep and disappointment from my eyes, then I looked around the room. Huh... when was my room this dirty. Eh, must have been a random monster under my bed deciding to come after my cleanliness after it took my straightness. I nodded at that answer, and lethargically got up, feet slumping onto the roll of a sweater under my feet, and I sighed- man, really-? Did I hulk out or something-?

Damn, maybe I'll a superhero. I take a quiet look around my room, noticing that my laundry hamper had been knocked over and there was a slight splotch of blood stained on the wood along with a shard of glass, and I wondered what the hell happened. Not questioning it, I pick up all my dirty clothes and put them away, along with the mysterious piece of glass which seemed to be the suspect of the bloodstained, due to the dark dried matter on its edge. I picked it up and threw it away, accidently cutting my palm slightly. I winced, and I saw a barley healed scar on my palm that was centimeters away from the new one that was dotting blood. Oh. So I tried to pick it up. I sighed, and got my first aid kit just above the shelf by my bed, and applied a bandaid to the new wound. Happens a lot, don't care anymore. Gon says I'm too clumsy for this world, and I say that maybe the bandaid are a fashion statement. Like he listens to that. Hm, probably should get ready.

I got up and went to the small closet adorned by messing applied rainbow stick and peel stickers and opening it while grabbing my clothes quickly before stripping myself and putting them on. I got the usual thin white collared undershirt with my v-neck red sweater over it, and a black pair of denim shorts. Why shorts? Because my legs are beautiful. Not... too short though, don't need anyone else accusing me of anything thigh-above. I hum happily to myself as I put on a slightly torn fishnet onto my legs, and I wonder if Gon would think i look cute... WAIT NO NO NO- WON'T START THIS EARLY IN THE MORNING WITH INTRUSIVE GAY THOUGHTS- with a heavy sigh I went to the bathroom and brushed my pigsty of hair and teeth and washed all my face, lotioned myself with that sensitive skin care stuff, and put mascara on even though Alluka says that my eyes are inhumanely long and thick anyways, all the essential things to get ready in the morning. People at school just call me a fucking femboy- I'm not, well not really. I just like skirts and dresses sometimes. And mascara, but that's all- I'm not really offended, but.. people use that term as just another slur at our school.

I went back to my room and looked at the script I was giving for the auditions, but my mind was focused on the room.... It's still dirty. Still. Fuck. I cave into my obsession with everything being clean, and start to vacuum, dust and fragrant the place up slightly so it doesn't smell like... well, me. I picked up the script afterwards. Auditions were in a couple days and I was nervous and still had to memorize the scene, not to mention the words were like a whole second language. Who was I to audition for anyways-? ... maybe the understudy of Romeo, at best. My eyes slant down, I couldn't really see myself earning such an honor of the lead... I don't deserve it. Gon would, he deserves the world, but well not me.

I was finishing up my process of reading when I heard a knock on my door. "Big brother! Are you ready to go? We're gonna be late!" I looked at the clock and realized that it felt like it was indeed time to go, damn it I have to memorize at lunch-

I speedily put on my shoes and grabbed my book-bag rushing out the door and running to school with Alluka. God i wish I wasn't so fucking lazy-! Maybe we'd have time if I didn't have to clean the WHOLE FUCKING ROOM- "Slow down!" Alluka yelled, interpreting my self-criticism and I realized how fast I was running and started to get cramps, ok maybe that's another thing I need to stop doing- shorts aren't made for sprinting either- don't want boys to get a view they don't pay for, well it's not as bad as a skirt but still, I know how fabric rides up. How can Alluka even remember all these rules with short stuff- damn, she's so regal compared to me.