Chapter Text
“Are you sure you don’t want the last pickle?” Illumi asked.
“You can have it.” He took the pickle and ate it. Suddenly, my phone rang. I pulled it out, wondering who was calling me. Illumi glanced at my phone, and then looked at me.
“It’s Hisoka,” I said. “I...I gotta go. Sorry to cut this date short.” I stood up, afraid to see his expression. Afraid to hear the soft “Oh, okay, maybe next time” that he would always say. I left.
“Hello? Hisoka?”
“Hey Y/N, meet me at my house.”
“Right now?”
“Of course right now, when else?”
“O-ok. Bye then.” I hung up.
I grabbed my bag and walked over to the local garbage dump. Hisoka was there, waiting for me. He sat on a garbage bag and sorted out his cards. He pulled out a bouquet of yellow flowers from out of his sleeve when he saw me.
Hisoka spoke: “I have a crush on you.”
“I like Illumi.”
“But do you like me more?”
My heart pounded in my chest.
“Do you like me more?” Hisoka repeated.
I dreaded my answer.
“Yes.”
There was a woosh and a half-full jar of pickles crashed next to Hiskoa’s feet. Pieces of broken glass and dill pickles splattered onto the dirt. Pickle juice splashed onto Hisoka’s shoes. I turned around to face Illumi.