1 Chapter 1: Welcome Home

A sigh filled with exhaustion escaped her scarlet painted lips. Finally able to say she was home, her heeled boots clumsily fell off. Eyes stared at the spiral staircase before her. A tired groan rumbled in her chest from reluctance. The desire to just crash on her bed and disappeared into a much needed sleep was the only driving force that pushed her body to climb each step.

For a moment, she almost forgot what the place called home looked like. A two floor cramped townhouse that was affordable and comfortable. The rest will be explained, she's too tired to do that now. All she wanted was to strip out of her tight clothes and into cold sheets.

She stepped into the darkness of her room, not attempting to reach for the light switch. The heavy bag on her shoulder dropped with a loud thump as sigh of relief passed her lips. Slender fingers grabbed onto the ends of her top, arms began to peel the fabric off. Waves of navy blue locks fell around her shoulders, eyes narrowed indifferently on the bed.

"You know, sneaking into a woman's bedroom is creepy and highly perverted." She commented aloud, voice mixed with annoyance and exhaustion.

A devilish chuckle erupted from the not so hidden figure lying too comfortably on her bed. "Oh? Are you still upset about the last time? And here I thought you'd forget all about it from being flattered by my visit. I even waited until you came home! Isn't that so sweet of me?" Spoke an overly alluring voice she was all too familiar with.

'I am...' she thought to herself. The woman was over the moon ecstatic and bitterly angry about his appearance. Not that she could voice her confliction, she never can. For if that happened, her worst fear would become reality.

Electric violet eyes met his briefly, her half exposed body turned in his direction, allowing him to take in the pleasing view. Lips parted, she glared at him for a moment. "You're... an idiot...Hisoka if you even thought I wouldn't be pissed off about leaving me to die in the middle of fucking nowhere." Snapped the woman before throwing her shirt at his face.

He allowed the soft fabric to cover him, a sly smirk curled his lips. Hisoka snickered wickedly. "Come now, a few stabs won't kill you and you're alive. That has to count for something, right?" The man retorted flirtatiously. An arm untangled itself from under his head to dash the shirt covering her tantalizing sight. "Besides, don't you want to know how my Hunter exam went this time?"

She huffed stubbornly, he won't get away with murder that easily. The woman knew about his failing the first time due to an incident against an examiner because she was there. "Judging from how long you took to find me, you manged to pass and no, that does not count for anything when I'm dead tired. You invading my bed and not contacting me for months has my damn nerves fried!" Senka complained in no shame of showing such emotion. Fingers slipped under the hem of her pants, Hisoka watched how they twist with such grace as her digits tugged downward.

It entertained him, her nature and the way she's able to switch personas flawlessly. Under the typical circumstances, the woman would have barked at his staring. A different story when she's drained, Senka could care less about him sneaking a peak. She believed it didn't really matter since he didn't care for it. However, he felt a missing link to explain her current moodiness. She was nit picking at such trivial things which normally wouldn't bother her. That same old wall around the woman was back up, not that he couldn't crumble it into pieces once more.

Hisoka hummed in delight, noting how nicely done her makeup was. "I think, you'll feel much differently come the morning." his alluring tone made her shiver this time, deciphering the hinted motives.

Senka snickered to herself while clothing her body, why did she miss this man again? "Don't you sound confident in your skills." she provoked bluntly, a cloth gently whipping away the feminine beauty produces painted on her face.

The man chuckled at the directed challenge, it's interesting, her actions towards him. "I wouldn't really call it confidence." he speculated her taunt aloud.

"Then what would you call it?" Senka asked. She climbed over Hisoka's body to lay on the empty side of the bed, the hunter's eyes never leaving hers. Not giving the woman much time to relax before she's trapped by his larger frame. Violet eyes openly consume the sociopath's handsome features, from his flamboyant fuchsia hair to that seemingly vampiric pale skin. Six months didn't change much yet it did.

"Certainty." he stated, a sly hand teased the hem of Senka's fresh attire, threatening to put his wicked motive into action.

A soft hum passed her lips, tender eyes gave into the temptation as her hands finally took hold of the man which hovered over her. Gentle fingers caressed his face, finding themselves in red locks.

He found a new toy.

She could tell, it was in those yellow eyes of his. The bloodlust, a message earlier and a hint of something else gave him away. If there was one person in the world that Hisoka couldn't keep secrets from, it was Senka. Whether it came from his own lips or another, any information about him would somehow find its way to her. Sometimes it baffled the man and at the same time confirmed her position as an A class information broker.

"Well I certainly want you to hurry up so that I can sleep." she scoffed at his answer, earning a seemingly seductive chuckle from Hisoka.

"Now that's called wishful thinking." he sang in that same alluring tone. "Be careful with that one."

Senka felt her chest tighten unconsciously as he slowly lend down, confusion from his words sparked hesitation.

"H-Hisoka wait-" she stuttered in protest, a hand shifted in reflex to the junction between his shoulder and neck. However the weak attempt seemed fruitless as he silenced her lips with his own. Tired enough from her travels, eye lids closed in dismay to surrender. Hopelessly and helplessly. Senka melted into the long awaited affection from the psychotic man.

They complimented the other but it wasn't something to be said aloud. It was to be left alone and unspoken. Their little secret would stay between them and only them. The question was how long would the infatuation last before one gets bored? A constant need to be the target, no that's not the word. To be the person of interest, not as a toy but as someone necessary, of need. Someone wanted and desired. Not as a substitute or distraction.

But, if it's to keep him near. She'll be it. Oh, that's the reason. Why she missed him.