Hisoka picks up a little girl in the streets. Can a selfish, uncaring, pleasure driven clown act as a father figure to someone?
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A short story that ventures on how Hisoka will act in front of...
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Hisoka hugged Y/N in a tight hold. Finally feeling relief after seeing her E/C-colored orbs. He had missed her, even though it hadn't been more than just a few days, with all the piling bloodlust and baffling emotions he was feeling clingier than ever.
"Doll~ Why'd you leave my side for so long?" Hisoka was this type of person. The type who would goofily express his emotions. Even if there was an endless turmoil inside him, he would still act nonchalant and give this pitiful act.
"Papa are you okay?"
But she always saw through it.
She saw Hisoka for all he is. Not this maniac-like jester. And each time she saw him for what he was and not the façade he put up, she broke the walls he had put up for many years, and in an alarming rate she was cozying up inside his heart. Or maybe she had long breached his defenses and was long ago his most treasured piece. He honestly didn't know.
He smiled sadly at her, his eyes drooping as he buried his face to the crook of his daughter's neck. He was sniffing, all this pent up frustration, bloodlust, and longing was making him tear up. He didn't know what it was; was it her presence that let him feel that he could be himself and be accepted for what he is? Yes. And it was her doe eyes that never looked at him differently for whatever he did. He always wondered how sad and miserable his life would've been if he hadn't picked her up years ago. If he hadn't done so, he would still be leading an aimless life.
"Doll... baby. I'm scared." Hisoka thought that it was the urge to kill that was making him antsy, however he finally understood that it wasn't that; he was longing her presence and company. This usually happen when he gets back from a long trip. He comes home all ragged and he runs straight to her room, only to sit at her bedside and look at her for a period of time. Caressing her hair after a few minutes of silence to confirm that she really was there, before retreating to his own room then conditioning himself to look better and okay for her tomorrow. When has it started that he depended so much on her existence?
From days he vomited top-class food - his appetite refusing anything that she didn't cook - to fights he ignored to tend to her when she was sick. When did she become so important?
So when he saw her sleeping so peacefully on someone else's shoulder all his pent-up emotions erupted to the surface. He has always been possessive of his belongings, but not once did he feel the emotion of dread sit at the pit of his stomach.
' What if she leaves me...' Was a question he never thought much about. How careless he had been... How could he let this tiny existence meddle with his life to this point? He should get rid of her now, now when he could still push his heart to do so.
"It's okay to be scared Papa. I'm here with you. I won't go anywhere."
And his weak resolve shattered into pieces. If he couldn't let go of her, then he will keep her at all costs. No matter what it takes. And no matter how long it is.
