My Assassin (Killua X Reader) [COMPLETED]

(FANALE) In The Name Of Love

Y/N's P.O.V.

I stared above my head at the sun through the gaps in my hand, our feet scrunching against thin sticks from under our feet. Killua's fingers were intertwined with mine, his warmth running along the veins of my arm and I can't help but look down and smile. After the ex-assassin said the one word that declared him mine and mine only, all of my insides have been flipped upside down and nothing feels real anymore.

It's like a fantacy after all the rough edges have smoothened. The final picture.

The familiar grounds of our first meeting fall behind us until we arrive, facing a rusty brick house that I called my home for fifteen years of my life. Now, I know that home doesn't have to be a building. Because I found my home in my fiancé's arms; the only place I could trust and drown in forever. Call my forever.

We were silent as we stepped up the stairs and stood at the doorway. I paused, holding my breathe. I felt Killua pull me closer, his nose caressing the skin of my neck and then his lips found my forehead, lingering there for a couple of seconds until he pushed away and searched my eyes.

His own a warm Persian hue, a grin spreading across his features. "You can do this, Bitsy. I love you, baby."

I stared at him and wondered how I deserved a pure angel in disguise of an arrogant demon. His attempts to cheer me up never failed to work and a surge of confidence suddenly formed in my stomach. "Yeah, I can."

My fist knocked gently against the wooden door and I bit my lip while I waited. I whirled around to face the Zoldyck's heir who's eyes widened with surprise. "I have to warn you about my parents-"

The barrier seperating us from familiar faces slid open with a wild protest in response, creaking as a figure stood inside. My eyes watered at the sight of a scrawny man with a perminant scowl embedding his facial feafures. His fragile body resting on the confort of his trusty wheelchair. I didn't think that I would break down so easily, but apparently, the sight of my dad was all it took.

Jim's eyes flashed at me and then they shifted to the boy next to me who straightened, they landed on our locked embrace and he offered the faintest of smiles, strolling to the side so we could come inside.

Just as I passed him, he grabbed my wrist. I looked down at him. "This house has been very lonely without you." He let go just as fast, staring at his lap. "And your brother." The stranger croaked weakly.

We both knew he wouldn't be coming back.

"This house was just an empty casket, dad." I say, holding in my breathe. "You were always out somewhere. You left us by ourselves." My voice cracks and I feel Killua shift his weight awkwardly behind me. He's never been the best at confrontations, especially emotional ones.

Jim stares at me sadly, knowing that over time, that little girl who called herself his daughter learned to clime the vines by herself, rock the swing by herself, handle mom on her own. . . . that child grew up.

"Where's mom?" I ask on more simple note, casually scanning the room even though I already had an idea. My father's head dipped in the direction of the dark hallway to the far end of the house.

Before I can progress any further, however, I feel Killua come from behind me and wrap his arms around my waist, reeling me closer, my back sliding against his chest as his mouth pressed on my cheek. "Go." He whispered.

Detaching away, my vision is still blurry. With every creaked step, my heart races and as I round the corner, I find a shadow at the edge of Jesse's bed, holding in her hand his basketball cap from when he was little.

She raises her head to meet my eyes and her expression twists into disgust (not surprising whatsoever). Her hand catches the nearest object and throws it directly at me (unfortunately it turns out to be a freakin' lamp).