#Look at his mobage card Protect his precious smile 🥺 ANYTIME HE SMILES MY HEART HNNNG HEART ATTACK HIS LITTLE SMILE MEANS SO MUCH TO ME

[killuaisaprincess]

Hime

It’s STILL 7/7 SOMEWHERE, AKA WHERE I AM! 😤😤😤 HAPPY B-DAY TO KI I LOVE HIM 😤😤😤

The rush of adrenaline is never the same. The beating and pounding of his heart, it vibrates underneath the ground beneath his feet too, and every rushed step hurts. Splintering pain as thorns dig into his soles and rocks turn that porcelain red.

The shouting that rings echoes with each step. But he doesn’t stop, he pushes through the pain, and he won't stop, not even when he reaches the clearing stumbling through trees and bushes. His knees give out, and he’s stuck in the field of soft willowy grass, tears stuck to his cheeks and glistening like the stars.

He gets back up, bunching his fingers in the expensive silk of his garments, the rippling layers of skirts like water, even though it stings and everything hurts…

He runs again, not scared. Gon would catch him. It’s not logical; he would be laughed at for assuming such a thing.

But it’s not an assumption!

Killua knows, like something aching deep in his heart, as he runs down that hill.

“Gon!”

He half falls and half jumps right into Gon’s arms.

“Princess!”

Every second spent is warmth and safety all wrapped up in joy, Gon’s hands firm and strong around his waist, the world spinning as he’s twirled around, his heart pitter-patters, and he feels dizzy, love can make him feel so overwhelmingly sick, but he feels such elation... it's worth it.

Gon slows down, gently placing Killua’s feet on the ground, but Killua doesn’t want to move his hands from Gon’s neck; he doesn’t want- he’s afraid…

But he lets go reluctantly.

“Princes-“

Killua places his index finger up to Gon’s lips, a pout forming across his delicate features.

“Stupid! I told you not to call me that! …’s ‘mbarrassing…” 

B-But it does kinda make him happy… 

Gon gently takes his hand, and Killua feels his whole being go warm, from the tips of his ears to his fingers, tingling.

“I know, but you can’t me them; you look as pretty as a princess.”

That warm, pricking feeling runs right down his spine and makes his hair stand on edge as he smacks Gon in the chest with his free hand.

“S-shut up!”

Gon only looks at him gently, grinning.

“But Killua, I call you that because you're my princess. You’re all mine.”

Mine.

Stupid. How selfish.

Saying he’s all yours. Like that…

No… stop… you just make it harder…

Killua can’t…

He’s selfish too.

Unbearably so.

“Killua?”

Killua shouldn’t flinch, but he can’t help it when Gon’s fingers brush gently against his cheek and then sweep some of his curly locks behind his ear.

“Did they hurt you again?”

There’s something terrifying about Gon’s soft, whispered tone and the grave, almost dark glint in his eye.

Of course, they did. They always do. The slap still burns deep against his skin, even though time has run its course, but it’s still burned into his soul, and it still hurts. Everything hurts. Gon pulls him in and hugs him tight, into the cocoon of his embrace, and Killua blinks back tears, pressing his nose into Gon’s dirty shirt.

“I hate them. I hate it there.”

He doesn’t.

He wants to be selfish. He doesn’t care!

He just wants…

To be with Gon.

“Your highness!”

“Your highness!”

The screams get louder, and he feels that cold grasp back on him, trying to tear him away and submerge him into those depths.

He doesn’t want to go…

Slowly pushing away from Gon, tears blurring his vision. He can’t make out Gon’s face; he doesn’t want to. It’ll make going that much harder.

His voice wavers, and he speaks softly like he’s about to break.

He is about to break.

“I made a wish to the stars today… s-since it’s my birthday… to see you one last time…”

He wants more. But this moment would have to be enough.

He probably looks ugly. Sobbing like this, it’s the floodgates of his bleeding heart.

“Killua? Killua!?”

Just once more, can Gon pick him up and hold him in that embrace?

His vision blurs, and the stars imprison him.

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“That will be all for today.”

Everything is cold. Stone. Like a prison.

The colors of his heavy draped white dress, the walls, even the king's lips touching his fingers. It’s all cold. Everything is cold, the shimmer of icy blue against his eyelids, the only color... is the bright red of his lips.

Killua hates looking at himself in the mirror.

Everyone would talk about him. Nothing is as beautiful as him. But…

He grabs a long strand of his hair, scoffing, tugging on it.

He hates his hair long.

He hates all of this.

What’s the point…?

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“Your majesty, we have to go.”

He isn’t going. He doesn’t care. He stares blankly, as cold as the wall, ignoring the pleas, not even flinching when red stains his cheeks; it’s the same color painted on his lips. The screams of agony fall to deaf ears. He’s waited seventeen years for the stars to grant his wish. What’s the point…?

When he dies… can he become a star…? If he were to fall, would Gon catch him…?

“Princess…”

A dream…?

It doesn’t feel real. His shoulders feel so heavy, and his eyelids droop.

He lifts the heavy fabric up, standing up slowly; his hair falls over his shoulder, brushing against his bare skin, falling and flowing down his back.

A dream…

The blood stains the porcelain of the whole castle.

It’s not…

Gon’s hair doesn’t go to his shoulders like that… it’s not that wild and messy. And Gon doesn’t have a stubble like that. And Gon doesn’t have scars running up and down his arms….

Those golden eyes, those aren’t Gon’s. THEY AREN’T!

It’s too cruel.

No. There’s no way. Gon would want a broken porcelain doll-like him.

It’s not! Why would they wait so long! To- to!

His legs feel shaky, and his throat and chest feel so tight. Anger pushes against him like a tidal wave, sorrow pushing him down further. It’s too overwhelming.

Was the universe really so awful as to make him wait… this long.

“IDIOT, IDIOT, IDIOT, IDIOT!”

He doesn’t know who he’s yelling it too. Himself. Gon… or the stars.

He wants to say so much more; this pressure against his chest makes him choke, tears picking against his eyes and flooding over.

I love you. Why? How?

So many things he wants to say.

His throat burns, his eyes burn, his stomach keeps twisting and turning, and black edges into his vision; everything is so heavy, and bile rises in his throat.

His legs give out, his eyes rolling into the back of his head; the blank grey ceiling adorned with fancy lettering is the last thing he catches a glimpse of, but he swears he sees the night sky glittering through it.

If this is real… would Gon catch him…? Want to…?

Why wouldn’t Gon hate him now…? He’s tainted…

“Killua!”

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“Ki-“

“Killua…”

Everything hurts. His chest still burns, and the awful taste of acid lingers in his mouth. Oh...

He almost takes joy in realizing he ruined his makeup and dress, the stench of throw-up in the air.

“Hnnn… nnn..."

This is a cruel joke, even for the universe. It’s not. It can’t be Gon…

It smells like Gon… even through the copper of blood. Those eyes… are too much like Gons…

“Did they hurt you…?”

Gon’s fingers brush against his cheek all too softly, his voice all too sweet, as he brushes a lock of hair behind his ear. And Killua breaks in that moment.

A sob breaks clean from his throat, more a wail than anything.

He feels so weak, lifting his arm up, and letting his fingers leave a ghost of a touch against Gon’s cheek.

He has scars there too…

“A-are you an idiot…? Asking about me…?”

Selfish! Idiot!

“These?”

Gon takes Killua’s hand before it can fall into his lap, smiling as if nothing wrong.

“They don’t hurt.”

You haven’t changed at all…

But it makes Killua’s heart ache so much, he feels like he’ll die.

Gon is right here. Gon is right here. And he’s in Gon’s arms. But Gon is hurt…

Why does the universe want to hurt them…? It feels like it’ll tear them apart again.

It’s too much to bear. He buries his face into Gon’s chest, his frame shaking.

Just this moment…

Isn’t enough.

“Shh… shhh… it’s alright.”

But it’s not alright, stupid, Gon!

The universe hates them together so much… you’re hurt…

“They don’t hurt. Nothing hurt as much as not having my princess.”

Yours? How selfish.

But that’s just an empty and false thought.

He wants to be...

“You’re an idiot! I-I…”

He tugs away, looking up at Gon with glassy eyes.

“I’ll fight the stars for us, Killua.”

He shakes his head over and over, inhaling a shaky breath.

“It’s been seventeen years…”

He laughs though it's hollow and empty, those tears slipping past, Gon wiping them away so fast and yet gentle.

“It’s my birthday… you know…”

Gon always made him feel so warm.

All the way from the ends of his toes to the tips of his ears, crimson like the floor washed up in blood.

“…hold me…?”

Shy… timid… holding years' worth of everything.

Gon leans down, kissing the top of his forehead, tugging his lithe figure closer.

“Forever.”