The white cloth holds him prisoner, heavy on his back, small fingers clutching and grabbing it in an attempt to keep it from smothering him.
It's quickly pulled off, and Killua stumbles back, his wings flattened against his back, slowly fluttering back up.
"You really are a big dumb oaf!"
He scoffs, placing his nimble fingers upon his thin waist, looking up and meeting one apologetic eye, gold flecks dancing in brown.
"I'm sorry, little fairy."
The giant's voice rumbles around him, gentle and low in tenor; stupidly childlike, though.
Killua rolls his eyes, flapping his wings a few times, stomping a small foot down on the wooden surface.
"It's Killua! Killua, not little fairy!
The eye belonging to the giant blinks slowly, and Killua doesn't need to see the rest of his face to tell he's an absolute moron. Yet somehow, it's endearing to Killua.
He annunciates each vowel for the lumbering moron, an elegant eyebrow raised.
"Do you have a name, or should I keep calling you big dumb oaf?"
The ground beneath Killua shakes, and his ears scream in pain, and he quickly raises his hands to cover the small pointed appendages, his legs shaking at the vibrato and causing him to fall.
"Ah, sorry... little- Killua, I forgot to whisper."
Killua's vision remains star-crossed for a second, and he slowly tugs his fingers away from his ears, ignoring how the room around him seems to shake and how the echoes still reverberate in his ears.
Oh, right. Killua had been careless; how could he forget... Giants normal volume when speaking was enough to destroy entire little fairy encampments if they tried. Yet till now, the giant had not risen his voice, and now he sounded beyond regretful.
He huffs shakily, standing up on bare feet, wings flapping rapidly in hopes of regaining some balance. This fails to help as he almost falls until just the very tiny tip of an index finger is flesh against his side, warm and oddly comforting, like a blanket. Killua doesn't think he's ever felt such warmth. Always an outcast amongst the rest and raised only to hunt. Only to kill.
This warmth... he was big, really big, bigger and dumber than any human. A huge stupid oaf whom had decided to save him for whatever moronic forsaken reason. Giants are ugly, terrible creatures. Monstrous, they would say.
Fairies are small, fragile creatures, true, but if anything, Killua would say they were the monsters, shunning those who they deemed too ugly and horrific for the world, never giving them a chance.
If you asked him, fairies are terribly ugly.
Killua was terribly ugly to them too, just like the giants... scars running against the pink of his flesh, said flesh sickly pale, and wings a lightly discolored blue. Not beautiful or vibrant or large. His silver locks tousled and untamed, short, not pinned down, and long to the side like most would wear. His hair tickled the nape of his neck and went no further. Consider it some petty way of not wanting to be like them. Like his father...
Killua catches a glimpse of red bleeding across the webbing of a large meaty palm, his eyes drawn to it despite the fact he has to flutter up slightly to see. Oh... When he had dug his blade in the other... strapped to his thigh, a small rock knife he never left home without... when he had a home.
"Y-you're hurt..." Killua feels idiotic the second the words leave his lips, cursing at the way his voice wobbles, and his cheeks now burn with shame and embarrassment.
A hum that vibrates with warmth in each tiny little vertebrae in his wings, making him press them down and against his back.
"It's okay, little fairy didn't mean to hurt me... Gon."
Gon? Was that his name...? Wait!
Killua eyebrows furrow, and he flys up to meet and land on the index nail of the giant.
"It's Killua! Killua, you dumb big oa- Gon. That is your name, right?"
The Giant bobs his head up and down, and Killua almost catches a glimpse of his nose for a moment before his balance is torn asunder for the tenth time, it seems.
He falls to his knees, digging his nails into Gon's index finger, which Gon seems to have little reaction to. If Killua could guess based on the crinkles near his eye and the way his large bushy brow raised alone... Yeah, Gon was grinning like a dumb idiot.
This idiot... why was he so happy about that? Fairies never got happy about things, not often, at all. Forced into marriage, forced into a job, prim, proper... dolls...
Killua stands back up, shifting his head down, bright cerulean eyes looking at the follicles of dust lingering on the makeshift, presumed desk beneath.
His small dainty fingers rise and brush up against his porcelain cheeks, bangs obscuring his vision some.
It had been years since... he had been one thousand and two hundred years old, yet he could still feel the tingling burn of the slap, red-hot across his cheek for being too emotional. He was considered a teenager now one thousand and five hundred years old, and the biggest disappointment to his family. Who had thought him a prodigy. This mission was supposed to prove his worth to them... but... he would never be able to go back. He wasn't good enough. He wasn't perfect. They had seen his face. His wings.
"Little fairy? Killua?"
Warmth presses into his face, against his ribs, and Killua stiffens, jumping just slightly.
"Why did you help me?"
The words drip venom, and he coils in like a snake pressing his palms against the warmth and flesh of Gon's other index finger. It's not his fault. It's Killua's. He's always been a big crybaby. He's just lashing out. He really is ugly.
"Because little fairy- Killua, he's really pretty! All the other fairies are pretty, but not like Killua!"
His heart starts pounding, his fingers trembling, the tips of his pointy ears twitching and going bright red, burning across the brim of his nose and cheeks. His wings flap a couple of times delicately despite no need for flight, and his chest and insides feel like they are on fire, more than his face.
"S-stupid! What!? You can't be serious! You can't help someone because of a dumb reason like that! Do you even know what I did? I killed the fairy king! He's dead!"
"I don't care."
Killua whips around baffled, but he's met with childlike innocence, sparking in amber and swirling in brown.
"He was mean, a big meanie, and Killua, Killua isn't! Gon can tell! And Killua was glowing!"
But... but... his wings. They don't glow. Not like everyone else's. Did this idiot eat one too many mushrooms in the forest?
Killua wraps his fingers around his wrist; blue veins sticking out like lighting against his flesh, he feels somehow smaller shrinking in.
The tip of a finger prods at him, and Killua falls off and quickly flaps his wings open again so he doesn't almost face plant against the table. Again.
That big, big eye blinks both innocently and apologetically.
"If Killua has nowhere to go... he should stay with me!"
The giant's voice rumbles, with a laugh, loud in Killua's ears, but not as painful as before, and it makes his heart flip. It would be a dumb decision to take refuge with a giant. One of fairy-kinds natural enemies.
Therefore, it's a good thing that Killua, too, is their enemy.
He sighs, fluttering down and landing gracefully, flattening his wings behind his back, lips parting open... and then he seals his fate.