Screams stabbed across Violet's mind. Migraines struck at the sound of every punch, whip, and slash. Dark memories not nearly far enough in the past infested her rest.

"S-stop... I'll kill you..."

Ice-blue irises invaded her unconscious mind, and she ran for the salvation of the waking world. Not another minute would be wasted with his eyes or reminiscing about that night.

The burning in her left arm was the first nagging pain she noticed. But it was distant, as if the injury didn't belong to her at all. Heavy eyelids fought her desire to see the world. Forcing her will into the mutinous lids they opened, and a dark world greeted her. Soft warmth embraced her skin from all sides but didn't stop the course pain assaulting her throat with every breath.

I'm in a bed... My voice is going to be affected by this pain.

An unsteady hand found her throat and attempted a drunken version of a soothing rub. Next, she moved to rubbing her eyes, but her aim was horrendous, and it took a few tries. The action didn't fend off sleep as usual.

Something is wrong with me. Everything is hazy. Is this the demon's doing?

Every muscle burned with the slightest twitch. The pain was dull and manageable.

That's not right. I took so many lives and energy to power myself. What's taken has to be repaid. That's usually in muscle necrosis. The pain should be debilitating.

Panic rose in her chest and gripped her throat. Pain seared with increased breathing like a rake clawed across her trachea with every wave of air. Focusing on her surroundings, a high rectangular horizontal window came into view. Violet's brows furrowed.

It's familiar, but it seems like it should be further from me...

Rain saturated the night sky, pelting against the glass like missiles. The storm outside was steady in its rhythm. Turning to the far side of the room, she spotted floor-to-ceiling windows from the longue through an ajar door. The city resided below in twisted, twinkling lights through the rain.

I'm above the city line still. My thoughts are stained... slow...

Fog continued to waft through her mind as she moved her arm to look for the injury. The area was bandaged from shoulder to elbow. Running a hand across other the medical fabric, she noticed some wounds were left open to heal; others received small plasters.

Groaning, she attempted to rise on her elbows. The sheets weighed her down, shackling her to the comfortable king bed. Falling back into the trap of silk and cotton, she whined. Mist invading her mind kept her body weak and frail.

Her throat tightened at the thought of an attack while in such an incapable state. Guts twisted, and bile churned like the raging storm beyond the dark room that imprisoned her. Tears stung at her eyes.

Wake up, body. Wake up, Violet!

"It's only two in the morning. The doctor left an hour ago," a male voice echoed in the darkness. "He gave you a sedative and painkillers, among other things. Relax and rest. No one is going to touch you while you're with me ~♠"

"H-Hisoka..." She finished with another pained moan. "You moved your bed."

A chuckle sounded. "Yes. The far corner makes more room for the dresser."

A click resounded before a soft orange glow illuminated the room. The dim light framed Hisoka's face from a bedside lamp on the dresser. His golden irises focused on her, but most striking, his hair fell naturally along his neck and tussled over his eyes. She admired every aspect of Hisoka's figure with unsteady focus, from his makeup-free face and natural red locks to his clothing, which was a normal black tee and pink sweats. Bandages and care littered his body too.

"Your hair is down. You look hot."

He smiled, and it reached his eyes. "Beyond the morphine high, how do you feel? Any pain? ~♠"

Everything, everything hurts. But she answered, "My throat." She groaned with a voice hardly audible above a whisper, which cracked.

The sound of his padding footsteps across the wooden tile responded as he left without another word. A soft frown graced her lips as the sound of wind and thunder tempted her with sleep.

It's so hard to keep my eyes open. The rain and the warm bed...I don't think I can get out of here tonight.

Hisoka lifted her head, propping her drugged body against his lap. Unsure of when her eyes closed, they opened, and sudden vertigo assaulted her. All else dissipated when the rim of a cool glass and water kissed her lips.

Accepting without question, Violet greedily consumed the drink. Water had never tasted so refreshing, and she leaned further into the glass and hacked half-heartedly when her body reminded her to breathe.

Hisoka pulled the glass away, and she couldn't stop the frustrated whimper. I'm not done with that...

"Slow down. There is more than enough." The magician chuckled before allowing her to finish the water at a slower pace.

It didn't help much with her voice, but it soothed her dry mouth. Once finished, Hisoka removed himself from the bed and laid her down. As he was walking away, clawed tension gripped her stomach again. Without considering what she was doing, she reached out and caught a small piece of his clothing. He stopped and peered down with raised eyebrows.

"Please... stay," she whispered.

The sedatives removed her sense of self-preservation, and despite knowing she ought to be thankful she wasn't already dead by his hand, she reached for comfort from the cold-hearted psychopath.

This is the Magician Grim Reaper. How stupid can you get? Fire lit her ears and spread to her cheeks as she released the cotton of his sweatpants and turned her face from his calculating gaze. She bit her bottom lip. Now he's going to reject me. I'm tired of just surviving. It's nothing but one life and death situation after the other for eight years now. I'm tired—

Hisoka sighed, placing the glass on the bedside dresser with a soft clunk. "Still clingy when you don't feel well? Some things never change ~♥"

She looked back with furrowed brows and found it difficult to find the outline of his face, even as lightning struck and momentarily lit the room. "I don't understand what you mean..."

Despite blurred vision, which continued to worsen, she spotted an amused grin on his lips.

Surprised, her eyes widened as he lifted the bed covers, and after a short shuffle, he pulled her body into his arms. Once the movement ceased, a wave of blissful peace caressed all of her, most potent where she contacted Hisoka's skin. The sound of his breathing, steady heart rate and warmth relaxed her.

"You smell nice," she whispered. The touch of vanilla and sweetness soothed her in no small way. There was an odd familiarity to it. She was dying to know what the sweetness was that she couldn't place. Nostalgia awoke within her every time she tasted it in the air.

A long sigh sounded from Hisoka. "I doubt you'll remember this in the morning. But the feeling is mutual." He took a deep breath around her head. "Strawberries and something else. Mint?"

"I like mint ice cream and cinnamon hot drinks. But strawberries are my favourite."

"Yes, that makes sense. Sometimes there is a hint of each on you." Hisoka paused before saying, "The doctor used five times the highest dose of morphine in you. Quite impressive for such a short time of training."

"Impressive? I should have overdosed at that level... I don't under—"

"He mixed it with other medications and is a Nen-specific doctor. Nen users metabolise drugs differently, far exceeding normal people's tolerance in some cases, though not all," he explained. "You've improved enough that it was a minor issue tonight. The high metabolism rate happens with alcohol, too."

Violet was slow to process the new information and respond. The drug cocktail was keeping her pain beyond a wall, and she was thankful for it but was still aware it existed. 

"Why do you treat me differently?" Her voice was deeply laced with sleep.

"Different? ♠"

"I know you don't treat the other people you stalk like this. I've been weak multiple times in front of you. You don't even show up to fights if you consider them too weak. Why help me and..." She lost her train of thought to exhaustion. "I forget the rest..."

Unconsciousness ensnared her at the most inconvenient time. Hisoka responded, and she heard the tones vibrate through her body but couldn't understand his words through the fog of sleep's embrace. His thumb moved back and forth along her arm, and the last thread of awareness snapped, lowering her gently into security in a murderer's arms. 

------

Soft vanilla and stinging alcohol annoyed Violet's nose. She groaned and rolled deeper into the dark warmth. But there was a wariness as she flew like a helpless butterfly into the trumpet pitcher's plant's alluring scent trap. 

The thought strung the cord of Violet's anxiety in a hash note of despair—flashes of dark red and purple hues erupted. Deep pain tremoured through her insides and muscles like it was new. The discomfort of unwanted, harsh skin contact and the horror of that night months before her arrival drove her hand over the small of her lower back.

"No..." her voice cracked. "Not again."

Heavy eyes peeled apart and stung when the late afternoon sunshine met her dry sclera. She blinked back the pain and teared in response.

"How many days has it been?" Violet groaned, looking around Hisoka's bedroom. "More than two, at least."

Stiff burning pain confirmed her theory as every muscle screamed from the consequence of overusing her power. The memories of the last days were a nauseous blur. She vaguely remembered the disembodied voice of a doctor mentioning she wouldn't be able to sit for a month unaided. He had injected another cocktail of relief into her body. Other visions of Hisoka changing bandages and providing liquids played in her mind's eye.

I need to get out of here. Her lips quivered, and she whimpered. I want to be safe. I want to go home. A tiny sniff preceded two tears falling from her right eye. "No. You're too strong. Don't fall apart again." Taking a deep breath, she calmed her racing heart. "Not in this place, not in public."

Every muscle seared, although the dull wall of painkillers kept the worst of it at bay. Peering around, she didn't see Hisoka but heard the shower running, and the source of the fresh vanilla scent was solved.

Swallowing, she prepared before the first heave for an upright position. A small squeak escaped her throat, forcing heat into her cheeks and discomfort unrelated to her health tightened her chest. Excruciating exhaustion drummed across her body from simply holding the sitting position.

This is going to suck so hard. And not in a good way.

A swirling soup of disorientation, panic, and blurred logic churned around her mind. Instincts screamed for her to flee while her body begged to fall back into the expensive bed afforded an upper-floor fighter.

I haven't been safe in years. Not since Keff was still alive. A frown graced her lips at the thought of her deceased husband. I have to take care of myself now and forever. Keep moving forwards. 

Stiff muscles fought her as her legs swung over the edge of the bed. She bit her tongue hard and tasted the iron kiss of blood, attempting to hold a scream at bay. Her vision vibrated as she focused on the dresser beside the bed. A black gift box tied with a deep plumb ribbon appeared when her sight cleared. A white card with black cursive writing forming the letters of her name was attached to the box.

Curiosity won, and she risked peaking inside. The expensive fabric of a dress teased her further, but she resisted. No more gifts. No more anything!

Running a hand across her middle, she felt the material of Hisoka's black tunic shirt sitting atop her own basic tee. It hugged her form to the hips and would have to do. Even with the alluring dress beside her, the prospects of changing and escaping were nothing.

I don't have the time or strength to find my clothing. I need to get out of here.

Three attempts were required before standing held. Her legs shook in a dangerous warning. Pushing through screaming muscle pain, she edged along the room's wall. A dry swallow followed the visualisation of the bandages clinging to her legs from foot to knee, and all the medical supply remains. Guilt assaulted her gut, and logic whispered through the drug fog that maybe he could be trusted. Several piles of black and red-stained bandages lay around the floor throughout the room.

No. He didn't do it for me. He wants something from me. I didn't ask for any of it. I owe him nothing!

She stumbled along and was sweating profusely when the front entry appeared. Her shoes survived and lay quietly at the doorway.

I won't be able to stand again if I sit for them... Snatching the footwear, she tested the door handle. It opened smoothly. Because why would anyone want to enter a bloodthirsty lion's den of their own free will?

It was an understatement to say the trip down the hallway was taxing. Luck held despite her physical state—not a single fighter met her along the trip. The world was swaying and blurred with non-defined colour when the elevator rang at her floor—blinking lost effectiveness in clearing her vision with every repetition.

She dropped further into the wall, crawling along it for the last few feet towards her room. An exhausted sigh of relief released when she reached the safety of her apartment door.

It was short-lived.

No, no, no! She searched for a second before remembering her keycard remained in her jean back pocket. "Fuck..."

She leaned her forehead against the door, panting. A small sob sounded. I can't go back now; I'm ready to collapse. Her legs shook again before she spun and slid her back along the door to the floor.

I'll catch my breath. Then see the floor staff for replacement keys...

Darkness loomed and nipped at her consciousness. She respected the danger it represented but could do nothing to stop the drug assault.

A dark voice sounded. "You really are so much trouble ~♠"

♠♠♠♠

When she woke again, the dark of night met her from her bed. A moan met the air as it escaped her lips, one of the few areas not in throbbing pain.

"And she lives ~♥" Hisoka said darkly from across the room.

She gasped and shot up before hitting a wall of agony and rolled back on her side. Hisoka made no movement to help and continued to sit across the room in a chair from where Violet lay. His arms were crossed, with one of his legs crossed over the other. A cold, irritated expression painted across his face and much of his stiff body.

"Not a very smart move on your part, darling ~♠"

His deep piercing gaze bore through Violet. She matched it with strength, but her face knotted with pain.

No point arguing. He's damn right. That doesn't mean I'll give him the satisfaction of knowing he's right, either.

Her mind was clearer; leaving in that state had been foolish. And to pass out in the hallway put her at the mercy any anyone passing. An internal shudder struck, and piercing blue eyes appeared across her mind. She ground her teeth and snarled.

"Why are you in my room!"

"It's poor manners to leave without even a word to your host. And after all the things I did for you. Will I need to teach you manners myself? ~♥" He smirked mischievously, and she could only imagine what ran through his head.

Violet narrowed her eyes and threatened Hisoka with the only thing she could, her fierce expression.

"Lucky for you, I do have manners. It would have been poor form to leave a woman alone in such a state."

"Entering someone's private space without permission is far from good manners."

"Hm? I found you collapsed in the hallway. Should I have left you there?"

His dark smile signalled his win in their current round of mental battles. Violet growled under her breath.

"What do you want, Hisoka?"

Hisoka shrugged and replied, "Possibly multiple things, possibly nothing, but my reasons are mine and mine alone."

"I mean right now, Hisoka."

He smirked. "Well, my shirt back for one." He pointed toward her chest.

Much to her muscle's dismay, she quickly ripped the shirt off her body and threw it across the studio apartment. Hisoka caught it one-handed and raised his brows with large eyes for a moment.

She glared with an intense gaze. "Anything else?"

He twitched his lips to angle upwards. Violet refused to back down, despite his evident enjoyment of her rise to win.

He pointed to the table beside her bed. "Your belongings and the medications from the doctor. I'll leave it to you ~♠"

He stood, and Violet followed his movements.

"Also ~♦" He pointed to her coffee table by the couch where the gift box she had spied sat beside some non-perishable food. "The least I could do for the wonderful time ~♥" He waved with his back to her as he let himself out.

Violet growled and fell back into her bed, screaming into the sheets in frustration. 

-------------------------------------

Phew! She made it! Do you think it's a good idea to be that close to Hisoka? 

Thanks for all your support! Please don't forget to vote and comment!