His smile - it was infectious.
The way that his silver hair flowed as a wind swept by...
Gloves grinned back, and took Killua's outstretched hand.
Her own unclothed hands didn't kill him;
his hands felt so soft - so warm.
She woke.
On board the airship en route to Mount Split in Half, she had dreamed.
Of friendship. The touch of another human.
She smiled bitterly.
That's never going to happen.
~
"Please, stop it." Gloves whimpered.
Blink was driving her into a corner.
They had already taken her bedding - her toiletries - and now they want her life.
"Chickie. You're boring me. Why don't you put up a fight?"
"I-I don't want to hurt you...." Gloves muttered, remembering the countless corpses she made.
"As if you could." Blink scoffed.
"Time to die."
Gloves dodged Blink's first strike - she was not so lucky after that.
Blows, kicks, and spit rained down as the prisoners ganged up on her.
Weak.
Prey.
Easy.
Words bounced around in Glove's brain - she screamed for help.
But no one would come.
In the dead of winter - the lone guard had been bribed to look the other way.
And in her suffering, Gloves snapped.