fine line.

4.7 - Pain

(A/N: These next few chapters are gunna get a lil hot and heavy—the next chapter contains smut, and, of course, I'll give a reminder at the beginning of the chapter. This chapter and the future chapters will only give references to what happens in the next part.)

Part 4
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Chapter 7

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"Where is Killua."

His question is not a question at all, but a demand. Silva huffs quietly, finding his eldest son's audacity humorous. He lowers his newspaper, slowly, then crosses his arms. Features etched with years of anger and contemplation appear malicious in the dying firelight. "In bed, I believe."

"I checked his bedroom. He is not there," Illumi replies with a touch of sass. He leans on one hip, leering down at his father. "I'll ask again. Where is Killua."

"What do you need him for?"

"Father, you are testing my patience."

Silva's frowns deepens. "Impossible. You have no right to be impatient with me. I am your father. Have you forgotten that?"

"Of course not. But this is a family matter. You have no right to keep information about family matters withheld."

Silva nods a bit. "I suppose there is some truth in that. After all, honesty does foster unity." He smiles, then gestures at the floor in front of him. "Come, sit."

Illumi sits on the floor, cross-legged, in front of his father. The fire behind him casts shadows over his chiseled features, which remain placid as ever.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about (Y/N)," Silva says calmly, "so I'm going to ask you to divert your attention from Killua for a moment."

"What is there to talk about regarding (Y/N)?" Illumi asks honestly, his head tilting a bit.

"I want you to think about your roots for a moment, about what fostered you to become the incredible assassin that you are today." Silva pauses here, letting Illumi think. "Those roots started to fade the instant you met (Y/N)."

"How so? I began only by training her."

"Love begins at first sight. As humane as that sounds, it is true," Silva says. His expression has not changed much over the course of the conversation. It is emotionless and stiff, like usual. "Even though one does not feel it right away, it is there. It may take years before it fully cultivates into something genuine."

Illumi stares at his father for a moment. "What are you getting at, father?"

"I'm telling you that the changes in your demeanor, which are due to the genuine love that you nurtured so carelessly, are visibly apparent. She is changing the way you function."

"That is not true."

"C'mon, son. Be logical. Think back to the job you completed the other day." Silva leans back in his chair, raising a thoughtful hand to his chin. "It took you twice as long to complete as your jobs from two months ago."

"That is because it was more tedious than the last. I made more money off of it, father," Illumi explains with a nearly undetectable smidge of desperation. He knows his father is right, though he does not want to admit it.

Silva chuckles, then remains silent for a very long time.

The air is warmed by a fire that trickles away, cracking and popping on its final coals. The room grows dim, and there is nothing but the moonlight through a single open window to aide the fire in providing light. The two figures sit still, contemplating the present times.