Bad Influence

•Chapter Seventeen•

The trip to the library wasn't a long one, maybe a little quieter than anticipated, but welcomed nonetheless.

Though Gon's silence was very loud.

Killua wanted to say something, anything to get the boy to speak, but he was stuck.

What the hell even was there to say?

He let out a quiet sigh, a hand going to unconsciously rub at the cast that weighed his arm down before a tan hand stopped him.

Gon didn't meet his eyes when he held onto his hand. Just took it in his own and dragged him towards the library.

His pale cheeks erupted with a deep blush; a gasp, that embarrassingly sounded like a squeak, leaving his lips.

He stared up at Gon dazed as he was dragged along.

They made it to the library too quick in Killua's unasked for opinion. To be honest, he liked the feeling of Gon's hand in his weirdly enough.

It was warm.

Nice?

Hell if he knows. He hasn't been sure of anything since they met and had this "friendship."

It was comical that he was getting strung up over a little hand holding considering they've done more.

But, everything just feels different now.

"What do you want our project to be on?" Gon asked, walking into the near empty library, he watched the taller scan the room like it was his first time ever seeing this many books.

"I'm not sure, we can't go all out with my arm being all.." He gestured to his arm, raising it as much as he can before pain shoots through his body.

"So something simple, I can do simple. C'mon." Gon looked down at him with a playful smirk, Killua would be lying if he said that look didn't make his ears a little bit red.

He, again, let himself be dragged around by Gon. They found a small corner and an even smaller table to sit at.

Sitting across from each other.

Killua pulled out his laptop, doing his best to login with one hand before Gon all but snatched it and stared at him patiently waiting for his password.

Killua didn't put up much a fight, saying his password with an eye roll. He could be so extra sometimes.

He watched Gon type stuff up on google, most likely searching simple projects the could try to make an attempt at. Ever the one to take the easy route.

Though he couldn't even blame him.

"We can charge a potato?"

"You mean build a potato-powered battery."

"I mean what I said."

"Sure thing bubs." He didn't noticed the fire spreading across the others cheeks at the nickname.

He was too busy leaning over the table with his good arm to peek at the computer screen.