Hxh X Reader

🍋Fragile sanity (Chrollo)🍋

« To rest one's case on faith means to concede that reason is on the side of one's enemies- that one has no rational arguments to offer. »
— Ayn Rand

!! : Intense violence (gore description)
!! : Obsessive love
!! : Disturbing behaviour (Manic)
!! : Reciprocated madness (Reader is insane too)

F/t means favourite type (what sort)
This is for @smpfanfic_101, thank you so much!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The air is getting cooler.

Walking around, it seems as though the city's citizens are slowly disappearing with the warmth. The once busy streets now only hold a few bicycles and pedestrians.

People are taking more time inside drinking spiced up tea in warm blankets, perhaps snuggled with pets and lovers. I don't blame them, I feel like doing the very same thing.
The leaves have lost their green glow, the sun has turned into a cold light behind the heavier clouds.

Nevertheless, I must run errands today. The air is cooler than it usually is but it does not stop me from wearing a skirt- though with high socks and a turtleneck long-sleeved shirt. Dusk was approaching sooner than it did before and my eyes set upon a newspaper that flew my way.

« Beware, phantom troupe launch attacks yet again in York new city. (...) Citizens are told to be more cautious then ever (...) »

I let the paper go in the wind to reach someone else (who cares) and start walking forward again,
reminiscent.

Chrollo and I met one night during my bookstore shift. After the first night, he kept coming back for coffee and the books- though he spent the entire nights talking to me rather than looking at either. It didn't take him very long to tell me who he was. Was it two weeks? Three?

Don't get me wrong, it was not all that sudden.
He cautiously approached sensitive subjects to see how I felt about them, and when I agreed with his feelings he revealed more of his true thoughts to me, slowly and discretely.

Whenever he'd come in tense, I knew he would come out feeling satisfied and whole again.
It was a reciprocated feeling.

It started out as lingering looks in each other's way.

Unlike me, his gaze would not leave once I caught his eyes. Then, he would ask for certain books on the very ends of the alleys, in a dark corner where he could mistakenly touch me or grab my shoulder when he took a book he said he wanted at the highest row on the shelf.

« Thanks for coming to let me know it was here.
I couldn't have guessed it on my own. »

When I gave him his daily coffee, his fingers would graze mine and he would smirk ever so slightly at me, as if daring me to say something about it.

Then, he'd brush strands off my face or play with the end of my hair justifying himself by saying that it looked too soft to resist.

Strangely, his touch didn't get rougher as you'd expect from someone getting comfortable and friendlier. Instead, his touch became feathery; like he was touching a porcelain doll.

None of what he did was as evident as it is written. He had a way with his gestures, his words- making it seem like it was totally normal and unworthy of note.

He knew he didn't feel that way about those gestures but how could I have known when he behaved so vaguely?

One eventful night, I felt his eyes on me far more than usual. I felt something different coming from him, his eyes looked oppressively darker and his face was expressionless. I pretended not to see it but my heart raced a hundred miles and hour as I prepared his order as customary.