Can't Be Friends - Chrollo x Fem Reader

First Meeting - 9 years old

The boy ran from a group of other boys. They were a bit taller and stronger than him, but he was always able to outsmart them in activities. He was holding one of their bottles. He was not sure what it was, but they drank it a lot and claimed it made them "feel good". He had asked the boys if he could have some, and they always declined his requests. He thought nothing deep of their rejection. To him, it was friendly and playful - just like his attempt to take the drink from them. His giggles became louder as they ran closer to him. He nearly stumbled over a pile of boxes as his feet moved quickly. Looking back at them, their faces displayed determination as the running boy held one of their beers.

"Give it back, bastard!"

He went to go into his signature hiding spot that they had yet to find. To his surprise, his typically vacant location had a young girl digging through his secret stash of toys, snacks, and books.

"Hey!" he whispered harshly. His hiding spot was under a small hill that was made of junk. There was a slight opening that allowed his small size to slip in quickly and not be visible to others easily.

You jumped in response to his appearance. He wanted to scold you for going through his things, but instead he held a finger up to his lips, shushing you. Loud footsteps shook the ground near you.

"Come back you bastard!" one of them yelled.

When it seemed that they disappeared, he took a deep breath. He had been compressing his breathing until he felt safe enough to do so.

"What are you doing here?"

"I just got bored, and I found this place!" you admitted excitedly. The smile on your face did not match the boy's. He looked unamused, crossing his arms and holding his head high. Intrigued to finally see someone so young around here, you asked, "How old are you?"

"Nine."

"Me too."

Silence fell over you two as he just stared at you, wondering why you were in his space. He had never seen you before and was surprised to find a girl his age around.

"What were you doing earlier? And what's that in your hand?" you asked him.

"I just took a drink from my friends," he gave you a toothy grin. "I'm going to try it."

He struggled to open the secure metal cap. You looked for random scrap metal to open it with but couldn't find anything useful. He warned you before bashing the top of the bottle to open it.

"That's dangerous," you warned the reckless boy. He ignored your obvious remark.

He held the drink high above his mouth so the broken glass would not make contact with his face. The bubbly liquid made it into his mouth, and he made a face before swallowing it. "This is horrible."

"Oo, I wanna try!" you smiled. You reached your hand out to take the bottle.

"I don't know you," he glared at you, bringing the bottle closer to his body.

"Fine."

"Fine," he repeated, holding the bottle over you so you would not hurt yourself. It did not take much liquid to enter your mouth before you spit it out in the space in front of you.

"What are you doing?" he groaned. His little hiding spot now had spit-up liquid on the ground.

"Sorry," your face was contorted. "I didn't know what to expect-"

You burped.

Both of you began to laugh.

"Do you think they're gone now?" you asked.

"I think so. If they were here, they would have heard that burp for sure."

You giggled. "Don't forget you smashed a glass bottle loudly."

He smiled.

"By the way, what's your name?" you questioned.

He thought for a few seconds. "Bastard," the boy said confidently.

You gave him a funny look before snickering.

"What?"

"That's not your name. That's what those mean people called you. It's not a nice word."

"Oh," he felt his cheeks grow warm. He was going to ask you what it meant but was too prideful. "Well then I don't have one then."

"Hm," you said. "Well while you figure that out - I'm y/n."

He nodded. "Well y/n, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Why?" you pouted. Being in this city, you really had no home and no sense of belonging. Although the boy next to you was not being pleasant, you could not help but want to be with someone. Any interaction was entertaining for you.

"Because you're in my hiding spot."

"Really? I don't see your name on it," you poked at him.

"Funny," he faked amusement.

"Okay bye," you got up. "Thanks for the nasty drink."

"Thanks for spitting it out in my hiding spot," he replied, in which you stuck your tongue out at him. He tilted his head. Who is this girl?

When a few minutes had passed, he left the space so he could dump the drink somewhere. It was not long before he felt himself being pulled by the group of teenagers.

"What did you do with the drink, you little bastard?" One of the older boys caught him. He had his grip around the boy's arm. He snatched the half-full bottle from him.

That girl was right, the boy thought. Bastard is definitely not a nice word.

"He drank some," another boy complained.

"What did we tell you about this?"

He watched them scowl at him. The question did not merit a response as the answer was obvious.

Even though he was afraid, he did not let them see it.

The boy you had just met fell over after receiving a quick punch to the gut. He coughed, clutching onto his stomach.

You ran up behind one of the older boys, hitting him with a shovel. It was hard enough to make him groan and fall, but not enough to leave him unconscious.

"You little-"

"No one wants your nasty drink anyway. Get over it and do something better with your life," you held the shovel up.

The boys watched you. They were not afraid of you but knew better than to pick a fight with a little girl. You helped the boy up.

"Such friends you have," you sighed.

He did not look at you. He was too embarrassed to.