Elusive Hysteria | HxH

two; or a glimpse of her genius

The silence was deafening. The skies, taking it upon itself to break the stillness of the night, rumbled in distress. One would scream, if it was not drowned by the thunder that echoed in the far distance. Lighting flashed, illuminating the scene splayed in one of the most famous hotels in Paris.

Blood. Everywhere. It dripped down the cold marble floors, tainting the lush velvet of the curtains, and coating the expensive dresses and suits with its deep red color.

The massive room was deathly silent, save for the high heels clacking to the sound of the rain's pitter-patter, each step reverberating across the marble.

"I guess I should commend the planners of this beautious event. I do apologize for the bloody mess though," a throaty laugh at her own joke. A bow. "Hm. Ladies, Gentlemen." She bid goodbye to the corpses of the Parisian elite, conveniently massacred with such lack of finesse.

A pained groan. The lithe figure paused from her path towards the exit. A boy, barely 17 years of existence, crawled painstakingly slow towards her. He stuttered a "H-Help me. My f-f-father is dead. I-I don't want to be next! I'm the o-only heir... My life is the priority in this situation."

The woman gracefully sat beside boy, filth of blood and broken glass and all, enveloping his shivering form against her arms. (Not with complete sincerity, mind you, after all her fiancé would be livid if he caught her with another person between her arms. Alas, a job is still a job.)

She shushed him, gently running her fingers through his hair in an attempt to calm him down. The motion reminding her of another time, in another place, with her arms around another person - throwing her back to the memories she always comes back to, despite the inappropriateness of such thoughts in such situation.

•••

"Does it ever occur to you that we always find ourselves in this same exact position? Every. Single. Time?"

"Does it really bother you?"

"Yes." She answered simply.

"Liar." He poked her in the rib and she shifted, stopping her ministrations against his silky black hair.

"Well, since we're already in position, what do you suggest we do?"

He tangled his fingers in her hair, his other hand pressed against the small of her back, and proceeded to seduce her with his smug little smirk.

"Impatient little thing, aren't we?" He murmured, sinful lips pressed in the hollow of her neck.

"Mmmm, you would say that," a scoff, "but your body does not lie to me, fiancé." She drawled, emphasizing her point rather forcefully.

"Tease." He breathed the word against her lips, face barely expressing emotion, but his eyes, oh, that intense gaze trained solely on her - she almost grew dizzy at the sheer lust that spiraled into her.

"Kiss me."

And that he did.

•••

The brunette was broken out of her rather scandalizing reverie by a hand tugging at her wrist, smearing blood upon the milk of her skin.

"T-There must be more of them, of course. Snipers!" He whispered harshly. "We have to call the cops. O-Or the security detail my f-father assigned to me. These people obviously want me d-dead."

Her curly brown locks bounced as she sighed, standing tall and offering a hand to her companion. What a dumbass. "You are the heir, darling. Shouldn't you be used to it by now? And by security, you mustn't mean those, do you?"

She casually pointed to a row of fresh corpses in once-pristine suits with distinctive gaping holes in the center of their foreheads, her pert nose scrunching up in distaste. The only thing the boy - no, heir - could do was stare gobsmacked at the scene pointed at him and begin shaking like a leaf. Again.

"You should know, I was the last resort your father established upon such a situation like this. But my services are neither free nor comfortable nor something you would be used to. Nevertheless, it should be in your best interest to accept my proposition, before you tragically..." She paused dramatically, "die."

"H-how much are we talking?"

The brunette idly checked her nails, "500,000,000 Jenny should probably be sufficient for a complete and rather safe trasport away from this massacre. I would even give you the bonus of leading you to your manor, safe and sound. After that? You're on your own." She didn't deign mention that his father already paid her in advance, twice over.

The heir, in either complete stupidity or desperation, nodded vigorously and without questiom. He scrambled to situate himself at her side, moving to follow her, with the intention of using her as a meat shield the instance the sniper takes a shot.

The woman confidently moved across the center of the room, her floor-length wine-red gown (with fresh blood stains in her outfit like a newly awakened vampire queen, or a complete homicidal lunatic) swaying around her as she took a side-glance at the boy and the sheer audacity of his intentions. She has half a mind to skewer him then and there, but as she reminded herself, rather firmly: you couldn't really extort money off a corpse now, could you?

But wouldn't it be satisfying? A husky male voice, as distinct and familiar to her as her own, echoed in her subconscious.

I swear Hisoka and the others are rubbing off me, she grumbled to herself.

As if you'd have it any other way, Adelaide. His voice murmured against her ear, her name rolling off his tongue as if liquid gold. She shivered involuntarily.

Forgetting the world, due to the internal sexy voice of her subconscious (lets name that subconscious as Illumi), a warning shot of the supposed sniper grazed her cheek before the bullet embedded itself on the marble floor in the blink of an eye. Her mouse of a charge let out a shrill squeak in terror.

She hadn't realized she stopped exactly in full view of the (rather pathetic) assassin, but she'll keep her opinion about that to herself. She seethed, and in her haze of lividness, let out a concentrated wave of bloodlust directed towards her attacker. Because, seriously, it is frankly rude to even attempt to assassinate an assassin. It's practically a breach in the code of conduct!

At least, said sniper clued themselves in and stealthily ran to the opposite direction. They had better! She almost growled if not for the lack of propriety of such act to be witnessed from a lady.

She turned to the terrified wimp beside her. Now that her mask of genteel was practically wrenched apart by that display of bloodlust, she just resignedly commanded the boy to follow.

•••

Dropping the boy to his manor, she moved to leave the premises along with her respectable earning after such fiasco. She allowed herself a smirk of triumph as she heard the distinct sound of a gunshot from the place behind her. She did guarantee his safety - until after he reached the manor, that is.

Sauntering towards the limousine waiting specifically for her, she greeted her fiancé with a rather heated kiss, settling herself comfortably on his lap - and growing desire - whilst his arm secured her waist, the other gliding towards the exposed skin of the scandalous slit in her evening gown. The two reacquainted themselves with innapropriate touches to assure the well-being of one another as their vehicle made its way towards the plane taking them back to the Zoldyck estate.

Oh, how the scent of blood unmistakeably makes a girl horny. And Sylhava Versailles Adelaide, infamous hacker and assassin extraordinaire, never does anything by half. Illumi Zoldyck would testify to that.

•••