DISCOVERY ➴ Chrollo x Reader

XXXIII. Coward

His smile wavered, eyebrows drawing together in confusion, "Why do you look positively terrified?"

I stared at the clearness of his face, there was real emotion there, real confusion. This wasn't a perfect mask, no... There was uncertainty and a mixture of emotions that a crafted mask could never express. My voice came out thin, questioning, "I... You can smile?" 

"I have been smiling ever since I sat on the backseat of your taxi..." His head barely tilted to the left, and my heart started beating faster. His mask was gone. Why? What had happened? What did this mean? Was he playing with me?

"No... This one was real." My hands fisted the ends of the white shirt that covered my torso, I changed my weight from foot to foot. I couldn't shut down the tiny voice that was screaming about danger, that this was all a trap, a set-up, a way to make me fall for something.

"Wha-" His scrunched eyebrows moved away from each other, and dark grey eyes grew wide, comically wide. "Oh."

What did this mean? Had he really forgotten to put his mask back on? Was I that inconsequential that I didn't deserve whatever masks he put out to the world? Was I special to be able to see what was under-No. That was a dangerous line of thought. He wasn't comfortable with my presence in that way. I shouldn't start seeing things where they didn't exist. 

Silence stretched between us. My mind was racing, and I felt my hold slip, giving way to my delusion that... perhaps Chrollo was enjoying my company and that he had unconsciously dropped his mask, showing his real self. 

Standing there was only making things worse. More Awkward. The air felt heavy and I couldn't make myself meet his eyes when I dropped to my knees to grab some wooden sticks of the large pile. "Uhm, let's make lunch." There was discomfort in my voice, a forcing that hadn't been there before. The pitch was off, it seemed higher... Oh, how I couldn't fake my way out of danger... "How can I make a fire?" 

Chrollo cleared his throat, "Yeah, let's." He moved silently, cleaning the ground of leaves and tinier sticks by the middle of the clearing. 

I dropped some sticks there, piling them up at first, and then creating a sort of pyramid with them, like I had seen in films. Working in silence didn't lighten the air... It only made me feel more contrived, like I had forgotten what role to play in this ruse that was hanging out with my captor. 

Chrollo pulled out a lighter from his pocket. "Here, you seem to enjoy lighting things on fire."

Was that a way to patch whatever had broken between us? "It was one time!" My hands took the lighter, flicked it open and held it under one of the bottom sticks. Starting from the bottom made sense... maybe... 

"That's two now." He sat back, under the shade of a large tree. 

I found myself mumbling, "You're biasing it on purpose." Yet, it didn't feel right, this interaction we had crafted to return to normalcy... lacked honesty, which ironically was what had put us in this limbo where our roles didn't make sense any more. 

The rest of the day was spent in a hesitant dance, as seemingly both of us didn't know what that moment meant. By the time the sun was setting, I left to get dressed, and returned to find Chrollo setting up two sleeping bags on opposite ends of the crackling fire.

We ate dinner in silence, more fresh fish caught by Chrollo during the evening. 

There was nothing to be said, and I surely deserved a good night of sleep, so I laid over my sleeping bag, feeling my body relax against the cushioning. "Good night, Chrollo."

The fire popped against the sound of the crickets, and I barely heard his soft voice, from the other side of the clearing, "Good night, Y/N."

I could've been making it up, but my eyes closed. They were so dry it almost burned once I finally closed my eyes for more than a few long blinks. My tiredness started to pull my consciousness away, no longer could I hear the crackling fire, the crickets, the soft water moving down the creek, the leaves up ahead rustling with a soft breeze.

No. Now I heard a scream, and I was back on that street. My throat felt like ripping apart, and I realized it was me who was screaming. I took wobbly steps over the corpses, the lumps of meat that populated the coarse road, it smelled of blood, smoke and raw meat. 

I felt myself slip on the innards of someone, something squishy and wet, not yet cold but not warm enough for any living human. I broke my fall onto the bloodied road with my hands, feeling the grit sinking into the pads. I sat up, feeling the coolness of bodily fluids attach to my skin and clothes, the blood seemed to be expanding, taking more and more of my skin, and then I saw it, the red backpack, trembling with her favourite ringtone. 

She was there, behind her backpack, her sliced neck barely holding her bloodied head. Her arm was severed before the elbow, and I froze, unable to do anything, as she pointed it at me. The bone and muscles were just... there... visible, bleeding... I wanted to sob, to scream, but I was rendered paralysed as I saw her hollow mouth open and scream at me. 

Coward.

I sat up, heart beating wildly, eyes wide and hands covering my face as I sobbed. The fire popped to my left, the crickets were chirping in the distance. I was gasping for air, and I took my time to gain my footing again. 

I looked around, feeling safer, realizing that it had only been a dream as I saw the dancing flames, and behind them Chrollo's grey eyes. He was peering over a book at me with curiosity. 

He could've done it. It was possible that he was her murderer. 

And here I was, bantering with him, stealing his shirt and... living. 

His eyes didn't leave mine for the longest time, and then he broke the silence. "Want to talk about it?"

"No." My voice was hoarse from screaming. I swallowed some saliva and it felt like ashes. I shook my head, casting it away, ready for a distraction. "What are you reading?"

"This book from a friend of mine, it's called Made in Hell." I forced myself to think of the title. It rang a bell, it was by a very popular author.

"Huh... You know that author?" How disgusting was I... making circumstantial conversation with a murderer. My friend's murderer. If not by his hand, her death would've been by his word. It was a chilling thought.

"I do. We met in a library called Chiaroscuro and have been good friends since." He was threading carefully, his voice was so soft. I... was a coward. I wanted to stay alive for longer. I wanted to have fun... finish this trip of mine with the murderer. 

I blinked, aware I was already taking too long to answer. It wouldn't bring me any peace to know if it had been him. This was my situation now... and I was a coward. Reah was right. "Who would've thought you had a life outside of crime..."

"Pfft. Am I not a human?" He chuckled quietly. 

Are you? How can someone still be human after committing such atrocities?  "Do you have any extra books? I don't think I'll be able to sleep."

Chrollo hesitated, left hand smoothing the book's spine. His nod was almost imperceptible, and if he hadn't moved to remove a book from his backpack, I would've thought I had imagined it.

He stood up, walking straight to me, and sitting an arm away from me against a small birch tree. My hands were trembling when they reached for the shiny black cover of the book he handed to me. 

The thin book, by someone called Daisuke Mori, didn't seem to have a title with my first inspection, the back cover however described the book as a fantasy novel about the dangers of travel between universes.

"Thank you." I whispered. Why was he being kind? Why... Why was I feeling nauseous... Terrified, and disgusted at myself... I should be disgusted, I wanted to spend time with him. His smile had made my heart beat...

Things were getting more and more awkward... 

The silences felt... contrived... forced... 

Was it just me? I could be imagining all this...

I fell back into my slumber three pages in, and hearing Chrollo flip his pages periodically. 

Author's Note: Things are getting confusing for our dear reader. :c