𝖍𝖝𝖍 𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖙𝖘

chrollo

Top ???

Bottom ???

Summary: "Chrollo, when are you going to get bored and throw me away like all the other things you steal?"

Author: after-witch (tumblr)

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader

__________________

"Throw you away?"

If you didn't know better, and perhaps you don't, you would swear that Chrollo sounds surprised. There's even a layer of just barely detectable disgust in his voice, as if you'd just declared your love for eating something detestable. Maggots, maybe. Or unsalted porridge.

Your words had come out bitter and mostly unbidden. Mostly. Waking up this morning was difficult, because it was so beautiful outside and the sights and sounds of a wonderful morning only reminded you of how trapped you were. Trapped in every way possible.

Trapped between silk sheets worth more than the monthly gas bill at your apartment, next to man who had no qualms about whisking you away like you were a treasure to be stolen and not a living, breathing human being with hopes and dreams and a family. Trapped inside. Trapped with him, always, no matter what.

The weight of a feeling on such a morning led you to a darker place, a grey corner of your mind where all you wanted to do was make Chrollo feel bad somehow. Shatter the illusion he'd carefully crafted around you, the false image of domestic happiness, of a couple jetsetting across the world together. Make him frown, make him pause. Just a bit, even if only for a moment. It's the only power you could ever hope to have over him, so why not use it?

And so came bitter words, one after another. Whether you meant them, whether they were entirely planned, you couldn't quite pinpoint.

Chrollo finally sets down his mug, a trickle of steam from the hot coffee rising into the air, and the sound of his chair scratching against the floor makes you wince. Each step of his seems too slow, too deliberate, as he crouches next to you and immediately gets in your space.

"Dearest," he says, voice low and honeyed. "Where is this coming from?"

His hand grasps you chin and tilts it, gently, but you avoid his gaze.

You won't look at him. You won't. Because you know this will agitate him more than anything, your seeming indifference, your refusal to give him an ounce of energy.

Instead you stare down at your breakfast, room service poached eggs and delicately buttered toast; your stomach was in no mood for it.

But he doesn't leave, and you force yourself to speak, weaving your words with thorns in any way you can.

"What?" you murmur. "I'm right, aren't I? You'll get bored of me eventually. You'll either get tired of me not being what you want or you'll get tired of me after I'm broken. Then you'll toss me aside and find someone else."

You try to pretend that you're saying it just to be bitter, but you can't hide the sickening feeling that you might be right. How would you even manage a normal life again, after all this? After Chrollo?

His breath hitches, and the sound is so unusual that you do finally look at him. But if there was anything in his expression to give himself away, it was smoothed over before you got a chance to see.

He stands up and places himself behind you, leaning down until his loose hair brushes against your cheek. His voice is practical, cool, practiced, when he speaks.

"I never throw anything I steal away. I sell them, whole or in pieces, to whomever wants to pay the most." You bite back the urge to point out that that was hardly reassuring. Not that you cared... not that you were worried, in the back of your mind, about being used up and discarded.

He places his hands on your shoulders, rubbing in what you suppose must be an attempt at a soothing motion. "Do you really think I would ever get rid of you?"

His breath is hot, tickling, in your ear. The scent of coffee on his breath wafts close.

"You, my dear..." His hand wraps around your waist, keeping you pinned. "are priceless."