Cold (Illumi x Reader)

Business (Part 1)

You always hated these missions.  What kind of species are we that impending demise a turn on?  You thank your lucky stars every time you're assigned with him that he's on your side.  Honestly the same could be said for most of the people you work with, but the eldest Zoldyck son... he was a different beast entirely.  Why were you in this business again?  Right, doing the work no one else wants to do really pays bank.  This isn't the time for an existential crisis, (Y/n)... just stay focused.  The next page you need finally loads up and you continue to type at a blinding pace.  You glance over at the array of monitors to your left and see Illumi poised on the nearby rooftop, like a jungle cat about to spring to action at any moment.  You're efficient but he's more machine than man.  You press "enter" one final time and he hears the latch click and bolts into action, before you finish saying "okay" into your headset.

His blurred form only appears on camera as he rounds corners, making quick work of traveling midway down into the high rise.  He comes to a stop only for a moment as you flip a switch, a muffled ping of metal as the polymer on the heavy door hinges expands, releasing it from the frame.  Before the dust even settles he has lifted the massive metal door and set it to the side, the minute he steps through you take off running.  Exiting the smaller building next to the job site you jump on your motorbike without missing a beat and head to a parking garage a couple blocks away.  There's nothing quite like the feeling of the night air against your well worn leather suit.  Say what you like about tropes but there is nothing quieter than well cared for leather.  The orange tint in the glass of your motorcycle helmet amplifying the orange of the neon night life.  You enjoy the hum of the streets for all of two minutes before pulling a sharp left into the garage, clicking your headlights off and slowly making your way up the ramp to the top of the lot.  As you round the corner of the second to top floor, you find yourself blinded by lights as flashlights click on and vans roar to life.  You're already setting down the kickstand and hopping off your bike when you hear "It's them!" from somewhere within the small crowd.

"Ah shit, and here I was hoping 'There might be' meant 'There wouldn't be'." You mutter, as you ready your weapons...

---

You sit staring at the stars on the top level of the parking garage sipping on a box of green tea for about an hour before you feel pressure on the back of the bike.  Bringing it to life and discarding the box, you pull the bike in a 360 before gliding off the ramp onto another series of rooftops. "Took you long enough." You say, more of a statement than an initiation.

"You had company?" He says, likely referring to the now vacant sea of vehicles on the floor below the top, looking like something out of an apocalypse movie.  His voice is strikingly clear through your headset compared to the rushing wind and the sound of the city below.

"Yeah, and you?"

"More than reported."

The two of you ride in silence for a few minutes.  This was the part you couldn't stand.  People like him shouldn't exist, they really don't exist.  Ignoring the sheer amount of power and skill emanating from every pore of the man, he was perfectly toned, his long black hair silky and somehow always tangle free,  his features small and well defined, except for his huge doe eyes, which on anyone else would be inviting, but his irises only house a swirling void.  Riding through the night like this as you have on several occasions now, with his arms around your waist and his chest pressed into your back, his skin feels cool, unnaturally so.  Not that he seems to mind.  All of this, combined with the fact that he could literally kill you with his left pinkie, should he find reason to do so, always set your nervous system ablaze.

You've know each other long enough now, you decide to risk it, "Say, what do you do outside of work?"

"Train."

"And outside of training...?"

"Work."

Right.  Of course.  That really can't be all though, can it?  You've already gone this far, might as well keep pushing,  "Illumi, would you ever join me for coffee?"

"Coffee?"

"We've worked together enough now that I'd call you an associate.  I'd like to get to know you a little better."

"Ah"

Moments feel like minutes as both parties remain silent.

"I suppose that could be arranged.  You have my contact, yes?"

"I do."

"Well, I expect to be hearing from you soon, then." He says, as you pull the bike to a stop in front of a waiting airship. He hops off, silently as he does anything else.  He bows, a very small gesture, before turning heel and walking towards the ship.  With his back to you he raises his right hand in a wave, "You know where to find your payment." It's the last thing you hear before the assassin disappears into the night.

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Thanks for reading, please let me know if you want to see more and how I can improve!