Oh My God, They Were Roommates

[ 19 ] Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now

"S-Silver! What are you doing here?" Leorio stammered in the face of a handful of patrons at the bar.

Killua wasn't exactly sporting his Sunday Best—in fact, he was still in his clothes from class that day and wearing an equally dreary expression. If his head cold wouldn't get the best of him, dealing with patrons certainly would.

He ignored the urge to sniff and cough at the same time. "I'm here to talk to Chrollo. He's not in his office, though. Know where I can find him?"

One of the patrons—a familiar lad who had a habit of bringing his work friends around—leant back in his chair, eyed Killua, and said, "Barely recognized you with all those clothes on, sweetie."

Killua offered a tight, restrained smile and said, "Unfortunately, I'm never in a good mood when I have clothes on. Let's chat again when I'm feeling less restricted ."

He moved on down the bar to chat with Leorio, and his comment gave the customers enough content to keep themselves busy with laughter and lewd commentary that made Machi crack her knuckles threateningly at the end of the bar.

Killua propped his elbow up on the edge of the bar top as Leorio said, "There's a bachelorette party happening in the VIP room. He's friends with the bride so he's paying her a visit."

Killua could have rolled his eyes. Chrollo had plenty of " lady friends " from his past life as a bartender at a standard strip club. Now all of the strippers he made contact with had either A) successfully swindled a rich gentlemen in their youth and was now happily married, B) making money through online gigs, or C) graduated with a PhD.

And Chrollo wasn't a bartender for nothing: he was handsome, charismatic, and a manipulative bastard. Plenty of his " lady friends " were past conquests twisted to seem like she bested him .

At the thought of Chrollo, Killua's eyes slid across the floor to Kurapika's stage, which was empty that night. "Are you and Kurapika talking at all?" he asked, turning back to Leorio.

Leorio shook his head. "No, but I've heard he's been staying at someone else's place. Has he talked to you? I saw he helped you to the hospital the other day."

"Yeah, and I'm still pissed about it," Killua said with a groan. He rubbed at the back of his throbbing head and said, "Now my sister knows where I live. It's just... super inconvenient, to be honest."

"That's not Kurapika's fault, though," Leorio said, and rationally, Killua knew that. He understood the terror of accidental head traumas and Kurapika and Gon just wanted to ensure Killua did have, oh, you know, a subdermal hematoma go unchecked.

He could make all of the excuses he wanted, but the fact of the matter was this: That Killua wasn't ready to talk to Kurapika. Not yet.

"I'm... gonna go see Chrollo now. About that thing," Killua said, gesturing to the stairs.

"Right. That 'thing'," Leorio teased, and Killua flipped him off before making his way to the stairs.

He hurried up to the VIP section of the club where, beyond the railing, the room was enshrouded in red lighting and deep, violet shadows from the black lights. The state of Killua's drabby appearance didn't matter quite so much there, not when his hair did all of the work for him as it glowed white under the black lights.

Killua crossed the room where a group of girls were downing blowjob shots off of a stripper's stomach. Impressive , he thought to himself at the sheer level of expertise at which the girls conducted the shots. Killua was impartial to downing blowjob shots like that—it tended to make him gag, no pun intended.