Hisoka stood leaning casually against the opposite wall, his presence a stark contrast to the dull, empty space. His grin was wide, eyes glinting with an almost predatory amusement as they traced her from head to toe, lingering on the blood that had dried on her clothes and skin. She felt his gaze like a tangible weight, as though he could feel the raw violence that still clung to her like a second skin.
With heavy legs, she trudged across the room, each step sending a dull ache radiating through her body. The silence between them was oppressive, pressing into her from all angles. When she reached the wall, about ten feet from where Hisoka stood, she turned and slid down until she was sitting on the cold stone floor, her back resting against the rough surface. The coolness bit into her bruised muscles, grounding her.
"Well, well," Hisoka's voice finally broke the silence, smooth and teasing, dripping with that unsettling amusement she had come to expect. "You look like you've had quite the dance, my dear Quasar."
She glanced at him, wary but trying to keep her exhaustion hidden behind a mask of indifference. His smirk widened as he tilted his head, eyes sharp and curious, dissecting every detail of her state. The blood, the cuts, the bruises—he seemed to revel in the spectacle.
"It wasn't exactly... graceful," she admitted, her voice hoarse and cracking with fatigue. The edges of her lips twitched into a humorless smile. "But I survived."
"Survival is impressive," he mused, pushing himself off the wall with an effortless grace and taking a slow, measured step toward her. Hisoka stopped just short of closing the space between them, crossing his arms as he looked down at her with an almost possessive interest. "Though, judging by that crimson coat of yours, I'd say you didn't just survive."
Quasar's jaw clenched as she met his gaze, the memory of the fight flashing in her mind—how her teeth had sunk into that man's throat, the metallic taste of blood. Hisoka's eyes narrowed, as though reading the play of emotions across her face.
"Did you enjoy it?" His voice was soft, lilting, but the question felt heavy, invasive. She couldn't tell if he was mocking her or genuinely curious.
She looked away, focusing on the flickering torchlight instead. "Does it matter?" she muttered, more to herself than to him.
A soft chuckle escaped his lips, and she could feel the intensity of his stare pressing against her, searching. "Oh, it matters," he said, his tone suddenly serious, almost contemplative. "How could it not? The thrill, the chaos... the realization of power. It suits you."
Quasar's fingers curled into fists on her lap, her nails biting into her palms. The discomfort in her body, the pain and fatigue, suddenly felt secondary to the simmering anger at his words and the unsettling truth they prodded at within her.
"You're wrong," she said, though the words felt uncertain as they left her lips.
"Am I?" Hisoka's voice dropped lower, the smirk on his face taking on a more sinister edge. He crouched down in front of her, so close that she could see the sharp glint of his amber eyes, the way they sparked with that dark, almost euphoric excitement. "I wonder, Quasar, what you'll do when you realize I'm not."
The challenge hung between them, the room thick with tension. She forced herself to meet his gaze, refusing to be the one to look away first, despite the unease coiling in her chest. The faint throbbing in her head that had started earlier returned, and she clenched her jaw to steady herself.
"Guess we'll find out," she finally replied, her voice steady, masking the storm beneath.
Hisoka's grin widened, showing just a flash of teeth. "I can't wait."
YOU ARE READING
ECHOES BEYOND THE DOOR || Hisoka X OC
Fanfiction|| MATURE CONTENT || "Careful now...A game's only fun when the pieces survive long enough to bleed." Caught between life and death, she awakens in a realm of endless doors, each one a path into the unknown. Drawn to one, she steps through and finds...
