expired milk | 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨.𝐥

Mind games, don't leave me

Vincent Van Gogh had once written in his letters to his brother that "the sadness will last forever."

Chrollo would have agreed wholeheartedly if not for the experiences he'd live through after the showers of pain he'd endured. Chrollo had lived an entire life in his first few years of existence. Hardship was all that came by, hardship was all that was guaranteed. He never would have lived past the age of thirteen if it had not been for an artsy girl who was enamored by the colors of a setting sun.

She had told him that there was a reason why beauty became mundane, why we don't look at a setting sun with wonder but instead with a sigh of exhaustion. Beauty became mundane because we stopped seeing the ordinary with gratitude and wonder. She had told him to take interest in the small, in the invisible, and in the mundane. Look at the grass and then look at who walks on it. Look at the sun and then look at the sky.

After that evening, he gained a new perspective in life.

The mundane became extraordinary. He took life into his grasp, he stopped being a leaf in the wind and decided to root himself deep into life like an aged tree. He had found beauty in living.

Now he spent his days enjoying the pleasures that life allowed him to be present in. He had also started spending his days looking for a certain teenage girl that plagued his mind daily. He would sleep in just to see her in his dreams for a few more minutes, not minding being late to school.

He would look at her during the passing period; chatting with her friends. She would smile at them, adding layers to her already beautiful visage and that was all he needed to make his days complete, to see her smile made him smile.

Why did he care for her? Maybe it was respect, maybe infatuation, or maybe even love he held for the girl who saved his life. But he felt he had no need to label the care he felt for her, she would always be the owner of his soul, of his body, and of his heart. He was hers, even if she did not want him, till the end of his life and then some. In every universe he was sure that only she would be the one by his side. If not her then solitude would be his company.

And due to the lesson he learned at thirteen, he now had a keen eye for everything that resided in his path. Many of his friends would say that he had an issue with zoning out during random moments, but he knew what he was doing. The boy just had a deep sense of appreciation for the things that surrounded him. If he were to go back to the wasteland known as Meteor City, the boy was sure he could find something in that junk filled land to find beauty in.

Maybe it would be in the sky, maybe in the ground, or maybe in the people.

Chrollo was wandering through the halls as the last bell would ring, signaling that school was over. He took his usual route to his locker, the longest route, as it would mean he would get to see the object of his desires. But today was different, maybe the sun shone brighter, or the clouds cleared the sky. Whatever it was had blessedly made an opportunity present for Chrollo to finally integrate himself into [Y/N]'s life.

Chrollo noticed a blue haired girl sitting on top of his [Y/N], nagging the girl and [Y/N] crying out for help from her other blue haired friend. (Did [Y/N] have a thing for blue haired people? He had thought. Chrollo began to wonder if he should dye his hair. If so, he would have to ask his friend Hisoka. Hisoka probably knew more about hair care than himself.)

Because of his unusual attention to the details of life, during the commotion of the group of girls, he had noticed a folded up paper fall a few inches away from his feet, he had noticed it in his [Y/N]'s hand before she fell. (He wondered if the paper was important to her, he shook his head, probably not.)