DISCOVERY ➴ Chrollo x Reader

Special 100K Chapter

«The Couch», written for all the readers who got here as a thank-you note, by Atnica.

Chrollo's work in the garden was more than finished for the season, there was simply nothing else he could do outside any more, and that frustrated him to a certain end. Once he quit staring at the little sprouts of seeds he had planted a few weeks back—very well watered sprouts, he would add—, he couldn't find anything else to entertain his time, no matter how hard he tried. And thus, his attention moved to the house. He didn't quite like it, it was too empty downstairs, the living room particularly. The broken window had left to rot most furniture in the living room, so he had tossed it all away on the first day.  He had been reading in his bedroom, once his self-assigned chores were completed, but it became stifling once he had to spend the night there as well, feeling idle and bored. He wasn't a man used to sleep more than five to six hours, and laying in bed, thinking about future plans, was only entertaining and freeing for the first few nights. 

He walked into the house, avoiding some floor boards that creaked under his weight, and stopped under the door frame, facing the living room. The empty, wide room didn't inspire the comfort needed for leisure... If only the couch had survived, he thought for a mere second. The next, he remembered who he was, and what he could do, nen or no nen. 

Once the goal was set, Chrollo fell back to his usual ways, and he took comfort in his line of thought. Stealing had always been a part of him, after all. His first step was to search for a good couch far away enough that no acquaintances should recognize it, if they ever visited. How was he to transport it? That was the biggest problem. Depending on the distance, it would have to be a phased moving with a secure holding place at least until the next night... 

It took him three weeks, of meticulous planing and sneaking away when Y/N wasn't around, so everything could align for the perfect robbery. 

The first night came, and Chrollo, as soon as he heard Y/N's 'goodnight' and bedroom door close, was on the run. He had timed how long it would take to the village next to the village over, and to the targeted house. He had even found several alternative routes and semi safe drop off points to be used along the way to their house. 

He did find himself a fool for planning such a petty crime with the mind that strived for greatness, planned greatness even... No one could know how much thought he had put into this damned couch. It was a perfect couch though, comfortable, soft to the touch and not too bouncy — he had broken into the target house once to check — and big enough for himself, with some leeway to allow for Y/N's body between his arms. 

Chrollo arrived at the target with time to spare. It was time for the trickiest part: extricating the couch from the building, without raising any alarm to the inhabitants. He patted his gloves together twice before he started his climb to the second floor balcony. All the lights were off, which was a good indicator that the family had gone to bed. The biggest worry was never them, but their cat. It could wake them up with incessant meowing... If only Mr. Whiskers was outside for the night... He could only hope for luck, but it was soon revealed to him that he was lacking it. Mr. Whiskers  was by the window, staring right at him as he climbed over the railing with an empty-headed look.

A single thought passed though Chrollo's mind, 'It was much easier to steal when killing was on the table.' He took out his tools and unlocked the floor-window under careful watch of his little feline foe. The lock gave out, and he slid without a minute to spare. Of course, the cat decided to start meowing at him, and to rub around his legs. He held a groan in and crouched to pet him softly. With the cat appeased, he threw opened the other side of the large glass panels that comprised the doors to the balcony, he had measured the couch previously to ensure it could pass through without disassembly. 

A deep breath later, and he was heaving the couch with both hands across the room to the window. As cats oft do, Mr. Whiskers decided this was the best time to wrap around his legs, mewing for attention and pets, and nearly throwing Chrollo off his balance. "Behave yourself, Whiskers." Chrollo whispered as he stomped his feet to regain balance. He slowly moved the couch through the window and once he and the couch were outside he sighed. This was what his life had come to. Stealing couches for someone who mattered far too much, and telling cats to behave themselves, it was both humiliating and hilarious. 

He looked back with a thought of closing the windowed doors but noticed that Mr. Whiskers was peacefully sat on the railing and left him to his life by jumping off the balcony in the stupidest move one could do without nen to soften the blow. Nothing was broken, he was a master of his body and he knew which muscles to flex and to relax to perfectly alleviate the landing. It was all about timing, really.

He looked at the sky and decided on the best possible route, taking into account the time he had left until sunrise. He had to drop the couch at an abandoned Mill a few miles off the forest that reached aunt Bertie's house. The night was chilly, and the exercise kept him wide awake, hearing for any possible witnesses to his theft. It was ridiculous, to be carrying a four-seat sofa on his back, all the way home. 

But he was getting home and Y/N would be getting up to go to work, too sleepy to respond to his taunts and to notice his eyes had only a single target. It simply made it all worth going through, if only to keep playing one more day, for the interlude would have to end sooner or later.

Chrollo arrived home couchless, and just in time to watch Y/N toasting bread while half dreaming, he manoeuvred out of all questions raised in a suspicion that never seemed to rest within Y/N. A suspicion that would never fade, Chrollo knew too well. His day went about the normal, Mr. Wuhly proposed him a temporary job to revive his brother's garden, and he took it. It'd be suspicious if he didn't take a job or two occasionally. It'd make things harden for Y/N who would have to deal with the suspicion of well-meaning villagers on his behalf.

The job didn't distract him from the ever returning thoughts, a cycle that kept looping on his mind. He knew he'd have to get his nen back, Hisoka would ensure it... and then he'd have to stall for a good while to prepare for their fight... Where would Y/N be during all this? Could he keep living two lives? No. He couldn't, but he wanted to... for Y/N only. All the impossibilities of his wants and of his needs clashed and fought each other over and over again with no victor. 

Night brought the task of carrying the couch from the mill to the house again, and once shadowed by the many trees of the woods that separated him from his house, he slowed his pace in deeper thought even. He knew he shouldn't keep this up, for both of them, he shouldn't get Y/N's hopes up, he shouldn't let either of them get attached... and what was he doing? Carrying a couch to their little nest like a lovebird does a bit of straw. Who was he fooling more?

The sun rose with him in slow pace to their house. He shook himself off his daze and made fast for the house, knowing he was most likely not going to be seen if he continued to his place through the woods, he did just so. Once on his backyard, he finally dismounted the couch to pass it through the backdoor, to the living room. 

Y/N arrived as he lounged on their new couch, reading. 

"Where did you get that?"

"Found it when I went for a walk this morning."

"You stole it?!"

"Come on, Y/N. You know I would never-"

"You could've stolen something bigger so we could both fit!" 

"Darling, it is just the right size."

«THE END»