I am Going to Marry You

The first time he sees him, he is already out of the slums. He has done something to get out. He is not famous, or rich; but, he has a ruff over his head. He doesn't have to think about when the next meal will come or where will he clean himself. He thinks that he is strong, at least strong enough not to be killed by an average nobody with a little skill, and a deep pocket.

It makes him arrogant. And, even if he has scars painted inside him, he managed to create a mask, an illusion that he is invisible. All that turns into a pile of fallen cards when he meets Illumi Zoldyck.

At first, he thinks that he is a she. One look at the long black hair, dark eyelashes, and a silk kimono; and, no one would blame Hisoka for thinking like that. Thirteen years old Illumi is a perfect reflection of an old image of a geisha; especially if he needs to look like one.

Hisoka is standing on the crumbled ruff at the top of his apartment watching over the city when Illumi comes in an alley beneath him. There is something that speaks about luxury and sensuality in every step he takes. The air takes a smell of blood, and every shadow of the night fills up with darkness.

Hisoka unintentionally lets his tongue move across the red of his lips. He looks bellow and sees a man following the girl. He immediately thinks that she is in danger; but, then she turns her head and looks at the man; and, Hisoka than understands.

He knows better than to judge; not her and even not the men behind her. She wouldn't be a first girl to sell her body to dirty old men. When you don't have a ruff over your head and when you are hungry, you would do everything to get out. He himself had to do worse.

A shiver runs down his spine. He buries the scars a little bit deeper. He knows that he is out, and it is all it matters now. If he is a better man, he would turn away and leave. Yet, he is not any kind of man; he is still a boy, and seventeen years that are behind him have thought him to take what he wants. So, he moves his hand lower, ready to enjoy a free show.

He opens his zipper and moves his fingers. The fingernails starch, leaving marks on a hot flesh. He moves his hand and grips the already half-hard cock. One look at those dark, big eyes is all it takes to be all the way up. The man bellow him probably agrees with him because he closes the space between the girl and himself. The girl almost smiles and Hisoka can't help himself. He moves his hand up and down; hard and fast from the start. His teeth are biting at his lower lip. Behind his eyelashes he looks at her. She is moving her delicate hands to unwrap her silk clothes. Then, something unexpected happens.

In one quick moment, with a single slip of her wrist the girl cuts the man across his neck, and he falls down. There is a blood on the wall next to her. The whole space of it is painted in red.

Hisoka's breath is labored and his heart beats so laud that he thinks even the girl will hear him. His eyes are big, his mouth open; but, his hand never stops. He grips himself harder until it hurts.

He doesn't know what she is doing to him, but he can't stop himself any more than he can stop the shallow of his breath, or the speed of his heartbeat.

He looks at the girl's face. There is a drop of blood bellow her right eye. He wants to lick it away, make it disappear.

At that moment, the girl looks at him, right through him and he moans loudly; he can't stop himself; he doesn't even try. His hand is moving faster and then the girl titles her head as if she doesn't understand what he is doing, or maybe why is he doing whatever he is doing. He moans lauder, doesn't take his eyes away from her. He can feel the electricity in the air around him, a hot tight wave of pleasure inside him. This feeling of almost bursting never came this quickly. He is so close that he can fell the pleasure filling every cell and every bone in his body.

His voice is laced with seduction when he screams that he will marry her, just as he is coming.

His fingers are coated white and his skin still feels sensitive when he notices a needle on his throat and sees a shadow next to himself. He isn't sure how she managed in one second to be bellow him, and in the next breathing the same air he is breathing. But, he doesn't question any of it.

She is strong and he has always been drawn to strong things like a moth to a light. He wants to fight her, but he knows that he would lose. So, he closes his eyes and loses himself in her smell. She smells deadly, dark, and like poison. He moans again and moves his wet hand to his lips. He licks one finger after another. There is a gasp of air behind him.

"Do I shock you, little girl?" and, his voice is laced with everything he feels inside. It's hot and dark, and it crawls down Illumi's skin like a spider should.

"I am a boy." That is all Hisoka gets. She; no, he dismisses him like he is nothing; a dirt on her, no his, shoes; not worth killing. The boy with beautiful, deadly eyes hops down on the street leaving Hisoka dazzled, shocked and unable to speak.

He thinks to himself – I am going to marry him.