DISCOVERY ➴ Chrollo x Reader

XLV. Beginning

Chrollo spun to face me, but as soon as his eyes landed on mine, I looked away - to the small two-storied cottage standing behind him. The paint which I could only guess had once been white was yellowed, moss covered some edges of large patches where the paint had peeled off. The two lower floor windows had been broken in... I couldn't tell how long it had been, it must've been a while since the shards that remained attached to the wooden frame were covered in something green. The steps leading to the front door looked like they'd crack at the mere thought of weight... The surrounding stone walls had caved in where a gate should've been, and they simply allowed a few meters of absolutely wild grass and overgrown plants between them and the house.

My inspection of the cottage only made me grow more confused. "We're here?"

"Yes." He patted the stone wall and a large slab of stone fell on the side walk, making us both cringe away.

AH... he obviously would refuse to elaborate.... "I'm sorry... what is this supposed to be?"

"A stop." Chrollo answered as if it was obvious.

"It's a house..." Are we stopping here? I'd rather go back to the dark, grimy forest to sleep than take my chances at sleeping there. The ceiling could cave in at any time!

"We're buying it." He added as he picked up the stone that had fallen off the wall and put it back in place.

I inhaled sharply and pinched the bridge of my nose as I suppressed a surprised and loud 'What?!'. Instead, I took a few long breaths to calm my nerves and, once I felt ready, muttered with forced acceptance. "You know... sometimes my madness makes you seem like the sane one... so I forget you're actually crazy too."

"Pleaase- You've decided to blow your many chances of escape... There's no comparison."

"Why- I didn't know escape was so easy and would be so nicely accepted by you with the death threats and all!" I heard my voice raise an octave and stepped closer to the dumb priest. "And enlighten me, oh great one, how are we buying this barely standing house? Who would be selling it? I don't see any real estate agent waiting to show us the abode..." I waved to the empty street and the many abandoned looking buildings surrounding us.

"Yee of little faith." His right hand flew over to his chest and he faked offence. "Wait here." Chrollo threw a wink at me as he walked down the street to what looked like a shabby old pub, barely in line of sight.

I had to swallow my jibes once he returned, an hour later, chatting amicably with a small and round old lady, wearing a flowy brightly patterned dress and a mismatching frilly apron around her middle. Mrs. Drouff was incredibly happy to hear that there was interest on the house and even threw in a lifelong discount for meals at her pub once she handed Chrollo the keys—as if we needed any, the door looked so frail that a touch would tear it down. The deal was settled, and Chrollo accepted Mrs. Drouff's invitation for lunch at the Feathered Snail.

I shuddered at the thought of entering the house as we returned from the best meal I had had in weeks. Chrollo seemed to find my solemnity funny and spent the whole lunch teasing me, but I didn't mind him. I hadn't cried this time... and that was a win—at least in my eyes it was.

We reached the metaphorical gate of our new house and I sighed. "How long are we staying here?"

He stepped over the overgrown grass, patting it down with his shoes and making a small path towards the wooden steps, while he answered with absent-minded ease. "Who knows?"

"You know." I followed his trail, dreading all the bugs that would undoubtedly be hiding under all the greenery. At least it seemed it rained plenty to keep the plants alive... would that be looking at the silver lining of the situation? If it rained plenty, how mouldy and decayed would the structural beams and walls of this house be?

Chrollo's laughter broke my horror apart, "Do I?" He had reached the steps and I saw him raising one foot and climbing the first one, the second and the third, cringing at all the whines the wood produced but surprised at the unexpected sturdiness. His hands sunk into his pockets in an attempt to search for the key and, I, now more assured about the safety of the steps, climbed the first one.

"Chrollo... I don't think any of this is dumb luck. You have a plan." I pressed on, knowing he'd simply avoid it, but still willing to put in the effort.

"Hmmm." He mumbled before yanking the keys, and unlocking the door smoothly. It creaked open, but it didn't fall! The bar was on the floor and as long as nothing that shouldn't end up there did, I was more than glad to consider it a good sign. "Did you know Mrs. Drouff never had the time to clear the belongings of her long deceased aunt Bertie?"

I took in the small hallway, and imagined myself dying because I had inhaled too much dust. That had to be a thing. The air was oddly humid, which wasn't good news... "So, you're hoping that Bertie has left us with anything usable?" I side-eyed the coat-rack, and it was indeed full of long dark coats.

"Might be worth checking." I caught the ending of his shrug as he trudged onward. Apparently, he knew that he had to be the one taking the risk of falling through the floor or taking a beam to the head, and it made me huff amusedly.

I shivered as I stepped further into the house, it was colder than outside. "Lovely... I'm sure aunt Bertie left me the least moth-eaten coat."

Chrollo had reached the end of the corridor and was now picking between the three available doors. "I call dibs on her alcohol." He decided to ignore the door in front and turned to the beige coloured one on the right, opening it and inspecting the interior.

I stepped behind him and took a peek in the room, the shards of glass still rested on the floor of a living room. The couch was absolutely unusable as it had clearly got hit with a few years of rain. The wooden floor looked swollen and slightly warped. The things farthest away from the window seemed usable. "How dare you. Bertie would never cope with alcohol, she's more sophisticated than that. Pills it is!" I liked the speculation around aunt Bertie... Was that a small cupboard on the corner? Maybe not all was lost...

"Y/N. This is a coastal town, the sophisticated way is alcohol. She must have a good bottle of scotch somewhere." He closed the door and opened the one on the left, where we met the kitchen, which fortunately had tile flooring and besides the broken window and the clear mould appearing on a 2-metre radius of it, didn't look too bad. It was however suspicious that there was no rotten food smell. Had Mrs. Drouff taken the food away, or was auntie Bertie living off scotch?

And so our slow perusal of the house continued, and so did our speculation of aunt Bertie's house. I would never admit it... but it was the most fun I had ever had, I could almost forget it all... to simply chat and joke with someone as we inspected a new house that we had just bought... If only that was the case.

Author's Note: A ruined house, aunt Bertie and small banter. Everything you could ever dream of~