#chrollo imagine

The only thing Chrollo would intentionally reveal is his disappointment—with you and your futile attempt at escape. It wouldn’t be genuine, of course. He’s only doing it because he knows the effects it’ll have on you. Depending on the circumstances—his mood at the time, or whether you’ve tried to escape before—he might use subtle threats to make it crystal fucking clear that there’s no escaping him. He tries his best to avoid violence of any kind with you, it's not something he enjoys or feels is necessary. He’d rather hint at the consequences of your actions—not just for you, but for your friends, your family, and anyone involved in your escape.

Chrollo strikes me as the type who would rather make someone fear what could happen than actually carry out a punishment. He might feel like that method provides the best results? Less disobedience and more compliance, without completely breaking someone? Who knows. 

Anywayssss. Your fear about being punished for trying to escape wouldn’t surprise Chrollo, he already expected that. But you trying to seduce him would be very surprising, he never expected that. He’d hide his surprise and confusion well, barely letting anything show—maybe just a brief change in his body language, but that's all. Considering the kind of man Chrollo is, he probably wouldn’t want you to know that you had actually managed to throw him off guard, and that definitely influenced his reaction. 

I’d imagine that Chrollo’s feelings for you would also play a part in how he’d react to the situation. He is attracted to you, both physically and emotionally, and you trying to seduce him would really test his limits. In his mind, he might be imagining fucking you right then and there, thinking of all the things he could do to you. But he knows better than to act solely on feelings, and prides himself on self-control. During your time together, Chrollo made sure he never crossed any lines with you, understanding the importance of appearing gentlemanly, composed, and caring. He knew that making you feel uncomfortable—more than necessary—would do little good, so he carefully maintained his image. As selfish as it sounds, he did it for himself more than he did it for you. 

Chrollo’s also very smart. It wouldn’t take long for him to realize that you’re probably only trying to seduce him so you can avoid being punished. He’s seen people do all sorts of things under the right amount of pressure, but this might be a first. The fact that you’d try to manipulate him—and in that specific way too—was amusing. But he wouldn’t stop you, no, he’d rather sit back and observe for a bit, probably contemplating how to deal with you. 

If Chrollo does decide to ‘entertain’ your attempts of seduction, it's because he wants to, not because you succeeded in seducing him. Maybe he’d play along because he wants to see just how far you’d go? Maybe he’s been feeling a little pent up lately, and this is the perfect opportunity to satisfy his needs? Either way, Chrollo never does anything without a purpose.

In this case, Chrollo would use the situation as an opportunity to teach you a lesson. Don’t expect much leniency from him. Running away was a betrayal, and that’s not something he’ll forget, or forgive easily. Still, he can’t help but feel slightly impressed with how you handled the situation. He knows you’re scared, but instead of giving into your fear—like he would’ve expected—you made a cunning move, attempting to manipulate him. And it might have worked, too, if you weren’t trying to manipulate him. But that tiny bit of respect you managed to gain doesn’t mean you’re off the hook from being punished.  

If Chrollo does decide to punish you, he wouldn’t be overly cruel with it. Fear can be a great motivator, but he wouldn’t overdo it. He doesn’t want to traumatize you, no, that would only cause more problems for him in the long run. Instead, he’d opt for something subtle and far more effective, something very intimate. Chrollo is no stranger to using unorthodox methods of punishment, and he wouldn’t hesitate in the slightest to employ them if they served his purpose. 

Chrollo would intentionally draw out the situation, allowing you to touch and kiss him, while using that sweet voice of yours to whisper some cock-hardening words into his ear. He’d be patient and play along with your game—calmly responding to your advances with some of his own—making you think that you’re winning, but you’re not, and you never will. 

He gives you just enough rope to hang yourself with. He’ll let you take the lead, at first. He’ll remain almost passive, his dark eyes tracking your every move, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. It’s a test. He’s giving you the rope, watching with detached curiosity to see how you’ll hang yourself with it. 

As you're whispering all that filthy shit in his ear, pressing your body against his, he doesn’t just passively take it. He actively rewards you. He plays along. He doesn’t just passively let you grope him. That would be too obvious. Chrollo is a master of performance. He commits to the role. 

As your hands tremble while unbuttoning his shirt, he’ll cover them with his own, steadying them. He’ll lean into your desperate kisses, meeting your frantic energy. It feels like acceptance, like he's being won over. He’ll let out a soft hum of approval, a low sound in his chest that vibrates against your lips, making you think, it’s actually working. He is doing the bare minimum to give you the maximum amount of false hope.

When you kiss his neck, a low groan rumbles in his chest. When your hand slips down to grope the front of his pants, his own hand comes up to grip your hip, pulling you closer. “Is this what you want?” he’ll murmur, voice like silk. “To be close to me like this?” He’s giving you positive reinforcement, at the bare min, meticulously crafting this illusion that you're actually getting to him. He wants you to feel like you’ve successfully manipulated Chrollo Lucilfer.

The flip. The goddamn switch. This is where it all changes. It happens when you’re at your most vulnerable—when he’s finally inside you, deep and warm. You’d be riding him, thinking you’ve won, that this is your escape from punishment—moaning his name, nails scratching down his chest, convinced your little seduction’s got him wrapped around your finger. 

No big dramatic moment, just a shift in his grip, his fingers suddenly clamping down on your waist to pin you in place, halting your movements mid-thrust. He’ll hold you still, fully impaled on him. You’re balancing on the edge, pussy clenching around him, so fucking close, and he just... stops. His eyes meet yours, that calm detachment back in full force, a smirk curling his lips as he says, casual as anything, “you didn’t really think I’d let you off that easy, did you?”

“Did you really think this would work?” He’ll ask, his hips giving a single, slow, thrust that’s devoid of any genuine feeling. He’ll start to move again, but the rhythm is all wrong. It’s too fast, too shallow, or too brutally deep, designed for his pleasure and your discomfort. He’ll watch your face, your desperate expression, and his lips will curl into a mild smirk. “You ran from me,” he’ll whisper, each word punctuated by a rough shove of his hips, rolling into you.“You betrayed my trust.” Thrust. “And you thought you could fuck your way out of the consequences?” Thrust. “How naive.” 

This is where the real cruelty comes in. He’s going to use your own body against you. He’ll fuck you—with his fingers, his mouth, his cock—and he will be an expert at it. He knows exactly how to drive you up, how to make your breath catch and your toes curl. He’ll pull out just enough to use his thumb to grind mercilessly against your clit while he fucks you. He’ll drive you to the absolute brink, your whole body convulsing, begging to come. You’ll be sobbing, pleading. And just as the wave is about to crash over you, he’ll stop everything. Completely. He’ll pull his thumb away, still his hips, and just hold you there, impaled and trembling, while the orgasm withers and dies inside you.

“Patience,” he’ll murmur, leaning down to kiss you sweetly, a horrifying contrast to the torment he’s forcing you to endure. He’ll do this over and over again. Bringing you to the brink, then snatching it away, until you’re sobbing, a desperate, incoherent mess, begging him to just let you come. He’ll let you recover for a moment before whispering, “let’s try that again,” and start the entire agonizing process over. Leaving you in a constant state of wired, overstimulated agony.

He overstimulates the fuck out of you after the edging, not letting up even when you finally cum, slamming into your oversensitive cunt until you’re writhing, tears streaming, body betraying you with orgasms that border on painful. 

Chrollo watched as the two of you left. His heartfelt apologies were deflected by Fei’s icy demeanour. “Darling?”, his voice hoarse, “I’m sorry-“. “Shut it”, Feitan carried you in his arms, “One more word and I swear-“. A glimpse of anger shot through Chrollo’s heart, but he knew it was misplaced. “I respected you”, Feitan softly added before he left with you in his arms. “Her stuff-“, Chrollo’s words died out as he caught a hint of Feitan’s anger. “She said she doesn’t want anything that reminds her of you”, he held you close to his chest. “Where are you going?”. “As far away from you as possible”. “I’ll look for her”. “And you won’t find her”, Feitan gritted his teeth; trying to keep his voice steady.

“I’ll kill them”, Chrollo’s eyes went dark.

He didn’t want to be like this; to make you hate him even more but what choice did he have? He didn’t want you to leave. Was he selfish? Yes. But on top of that, more than everything, he felt worried. He couldn’t leave you in Feitan’s hands. What if he couldn’t protect you? What if something happened to you? No. You were safe here.

“Who?”, Feitan froze as his grip around your frail body tightened. “Her family”.

Your heart dropped to your stomach. It didn’t matter that you hadn’t seen them in ages; that they treated you badly. None of it mattered. You weren’t going to face that mountain of guilt.

“You’re bluffing”, Feitan gritted his teeth. “Am I?”. “Fei?”, your eyes darted upwards.

You both knew that you weren’t going to leave. It didn’t matter how badly Feitan wanted to get you out of there; how badly he wanted to see you happy.

“You sure?”, Feitan looked down at your lifeless eyes. “Yeah”. Feitan’s shoulders slumped unwillingly as he now turned back to Chrollo. “Don’t think I’ll leave her alone. Not even for one second”. Chrollo held his hands next to his head before heading upstairs. “I don’t care what you do as long as she stays here”.

The two men didn’t even care to ask for your opinion. At least not out loud. They knew what you were thinking, what you were feeling, but it didn’t matter. They understood that you weren’t going to take any chances. Not when it came down to the safety of your relatives.

—-

“Not again”, your digits glided over the rough curtains. “What?”, Feitan lazily lifted his head from his pillow. “Chrollo… He’s arriving with even more flowers than yesterday”. “Hm”, Feitan hummed. “Wait”, you squeezed your eyes, “He can’t be serious”. “What?”. Now Feitan’s interest was also piqued. “T-there are people with him-“. “Who?”, he practically jumped out of bed. “T-they’re all carrying flowers”. Feitan narrowed his eyes as he tried to read the situation. “What the hell is he doing?”. There was this unexpected sharpness in his voice. Your brows unwillingly drooped along your eyes. It has been three weeks now, and everyday Chrollo had this entire charade of flowers ready in the morning. It started with the door to your room, then it expanded through the entire hallway…. Yesterday, he even had the entire staircase laced with lilies and roses. “What? You’re not going to forgive him, right?”, Feitan narrowed his eyes. “No, of course not”. However, the slight hesitation in your voice didn’t go unnoticed. “If you just agreed to let me take care of things, we’d be out of here already”. “You can’t keep my entire family safe-“. “Who cares about them? They didn’t treat you right”. “That doesn’t mean they have to die because of me”. “Tsk, you know they never even cared to look for you, right?”. “I’m not going to let them die, Fei”, you tore your eyes away from the window. His crescent-shaped eyes seemed cold and unbothered as usual. “You want to stay here, don’t you?”.

His question felt as if someone punched you in the gut. You didn’t want to stay here. Why would you? No. You’d never forgive Chrollo for being so cruel to you. Never.

You looked at Feitan with disappointment in your eyes. “Don’t look at me like that”, his voice softened as he pulled you close, “Come here”.

—-

“Y/N?”, Chrollo’s voice softly called out from the other side of your door. Feitan lazily looked at you; not even caring to put down the book he was reading.

Feitan hadn’t left your side. Not once. He noticed all the efforts and unheard apologies Chrollo had thrown at you, and by now, he knew perfectly well you were going to ignore him.

“Yes?”, your voice fragile as porcelaine. “What?!”, Feitan’s eyes widened as you walked to the door. Your steps featherlight.

Silence.

“I’ve got you something”. Chrollo tried his best to speak up. He hadn’t heard your voice in so long. To him, it felt as if an angel was talking. “Flowers?”. There was no hostility in your voice whatsoever. Feitan wanted to bang your head to a wall. How could you be this stupid? Nonetheless, he didn’t intervene. “Something else”, his words died out. “J-just leave it in front of the door”. “I can’t”, his voice had never been so gently. Your hands hovered over the doorknob. Your mind twisted. “Don’t”, Feitan suddenly towered over you; his grip on your wrist tight. “I-i want to know-“. “Don’t”, his tone stern. Your brows pulled together as you broke free from his grip. “Tsk”, Feitan’s eyes went round in anger, “Little brat-“. You ignored his anger as you slowly opened the door. Chrollo’s eyes, on the contrary, went round in awe. It had been weeks since he saw you up close. You were no longer a ghost to him that appeared every so often in the corner of his eyes. No. You were standing in front of him; as beautiful and graceful as ever. His hand wanted to draw to his chest as his heart skipped a beat. “I-is-“. “O-oh yes”, he carefully handed a kitten to you. It was as white as snow with big, blue eyes. “It reminded me of you”.

You studied the tiny creature as you carefully pulled it close to your chest. It was wearing a pink collar with a beautiful, golden heart in the middle.

“Please, treat it right”, his voice horse as his eyes studied your expression. “I’ve already bought everything it needs. Fei can get it on the table in the kitchen. Y-you can choose where you put everything. Its food is underneath the sink-“. “Thanks”, Feitan coldly intervened as he pulled you back by your nightgown and smashed the door shut.

“What the hell, Fei?!”, you looked up at him. “Give that to me”, his hands reached for the kitten. “N-no!”, you turned away as you held it close. “I wasn’t asking”, Feitan angrily grabbed your shoulder. “I want to keep it!”, you raised your voice. He tried his best to bite his tongue. After all, as long as you were happy… “Fine”, he shortly answered, “Whatever you want”.

—-

“Tsk”. “What?”, your smile just as wide. “You’re going to forgive him”. “W-what, no!”. “I can see it”, his eyes glided to the kitten. It had been a couple of days since Chrollo gave it to you. Since then, the conversations between you and Chrollo grew longer by the day. “If he hurts you again-“. “You won’t be here, yeah yeah”, you sighed as you finished his sentence. “I’m not going to forgive him, okay?”. Feitan watched as you picked up the kitten and held its nose to yours. It was an endearing sight, but the fact that Chrollo was winning you over wasn’t.

“Y/N?’, his voice rang through the door again. “Yes?”, you practically ran to the door earning a cold ‘tsk’ from Feitan. “Would you like to join me for dinner today? And Feitan too, of course”. Feitan knew he was only an afterthought; a pawn for you to agree. “No”, he immediately intervened. “W-wait”, your heart softened as you noticed Chrollo’s tired eyes. What if he really changed? What if he wasn’t as cruel anymore?

“I said no”. Feitan’s tone didn’t change. Your heart was torn. You knew Feitan was right. You shouldn’t join him for dinner after what he did to you, but you cared about him. Even after everything. It’s not like this was the first time he had acted cruel. Besides, Feitan hurt you in the past too. Both of them had treated you equally bad. Sure, they’d changed a lot but still…

“We’ll join you”, you looked at the white ball of fur in your arms. “What the-“, Feitan’s eyes grew wide. “No, we’re not”, he now walked towards you. “Fine”, your defiance grew by the second, “I’ll join you then”. “Are you sure?”, a small fire of victory grew inside Chrollo’s chest. Feitan noticed the smug look Chrollo tried so hard to hide. “I won’t let her”, his eyes locked on his former friend. “She’s a grown woman, you know?”. That smile. You recognised that smile. Chrollo was enjoying this. “You want to join him?”.

It was a simple question but you knew what Feitan was really asking. The confusion and disappointment in his eyes was obvious. He wasn’t asking if you want to join him. He wanted to understand you; to understand how you could hurt him after everything.

“Yes”, you softly answered; avoiding his gaze at all costs. “Fine”, his shoulder lightly brushed against yours, “Enjoy”.

You didn’t dare to ask where he was going or if he was coming back. Besides, for some reason your heart had grown too stubborn, even though your mind was fully aware you were being unreasonable.

Chrollo patiently waited until he heard the front door being slammed shut. It was only then that he cleared his throat. “I’ll be waiting for you. It’s fine if you change your mind”. “N-no, I’ll come”, you hastily replied. The corners of his mouth curled upwards. He had you right where he wanted you. After all, Chrollo knew you like the back of his hand. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation left in your heart. You missed him, despite everything he’d put you through.

The atmosphere felt tense. Chrollo was sitting in front of you; slowing cutting his steak.

“What’s wrong? Did I overcook it?”. “Wait”, your eyes went round, “You cooked this? Are you serious? You never cook”. “I wanted to surprise you”, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

It was true. He loved you now more than he’d ever done, but that didn’t mean his character had changed.

“Have you named it?”, he broke through the silence. “W-what?”, your eyes still wide in awe. “The kitten”. You watched as his digit stroked over the edge of his wineglass. He was up to something. You’d grown too smart for his tricks but… “K-kitty, just Kitty”. “Hm”, his eyes darted you yours. “What?”, you frowned. “Nothing it’s just… It’s a boring name”.

Your mind darted back to Fei. You initially wanted to name the kitten Stella, but Feitan didn’t like it. He didn’t like the name one bit.

“I wanted to name it Stella but Fei didn’t like it”, your eyes fixed on your food you had yet to touch. “Stella? I like that name”, Chrollo kindly smiled, “Besides, I gave it to you, didn’t I? You can name it whatever you want”. “I-i know, you pulled back, “But Fei is important to me. I value his opinion”. “Right”. Chrollo tried his best to hide the defiance in his eyes; to mask it as best as he could. “Then why did you agree to have dinner with me? He didn’t seem to like-“. “I shouldn’t have agreed”, you interrupted coldly, “I should’ve left with him that day”. “But you didn’t”, Chrollo smirked, “You know why?”. “Because I’m an idiot”, you replied with venom. “Because you know you’d miss me, this house, your room… You’ve grown to like it here”. “I had to! You didn’t gave me a choice!”. “Have I said anything over the past couple of months? You left this house whenever you desired to, with whomever you liked. You could’ve gone back to your family. You could’ve even decided to run, but no. You decided to fuck Phinks because the two of us weren’t enough. Out of all the things you could’ve done, you decided to break my… our trust”. “Y-you-“. “Darling”, he gently waved his finger in the air, “Don’t you try to deny it. You’ve hurt my feelings. Fei could only get over it because he was so angry with me”. “T-that’s not… I didn’t agree to this dinner to get scolded at”, you shoved your chair back.

“Scolding you?”, Chrollo tilted his head. He knew his manipulation was starting to pay off. Yes, he did love you now but he was still Chrollo, head of the Spiders and a born manipulator.

“Y-you’re blaming me-“. “Yes, I’m blaming you”, his eyes followed your every move. “Because haven’t we given you everything you could ever dream off? Clothes? Jewellery? Bags? You even had the love of two men, but it still wasn’t enough for our little minx. No, she had to fuck another member of the Spiders. Tell me, darling. Should we organise a meeting where you can spread your legs to every other male member of the troop? Will you be satisfied then?”.

His words were harsh. Just as he intended to. He’d been so kind to you over the past few weeks; so patient. He knew you wouldn’t dare to disagree with him.

As expected, you stayed quiet. Not even daring to look up from the ground. “Don’t worry, darling. I’m not mad at you but…”, he gently pushed his chair back. You could hear his footsteps draw nearer until his soft hands gently brushed over your shoulders from behind. “I expect you to be kind to me tonight”. “Yes”, you almost whispered. You knew what he was implying; what he asked of you. “Good”, he gently took in the scent of your hair and his heart was ready to burst. He missed you. More than he could take.

You noticed the unexpected kindness in his voice. The sudden shift in his aura.

“Let’s watch a movie together, cuddle on the couch… I’ll even give you a foot massage just… Just sleep with me tonight. I hate to fall asleep without you. Without your soft touch, your sweet scent, your cute sleepy noises… I miss you, darling. Please don’t leave me alone again”, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulling you close. “H-huh-“. “I was mad at you but I get it now. I really do”, his voice soft. “W-what do you mean?”, you slowly turned around. “You didn’t have the love of two men. You only had Feitan’s love. I didn’t love you, not really but I do now. I promise you. I love you. I love you more than my Spiders”.

You stared at him. Scanning the soft features of his face for any hidden lies; any hidden agenda that might be to your disadvantage.

“Please, Y/N. I’ll change. I’ll be whatever you want me to be”.

Chrollo had planned to take advantage of you again. That’s why he wanted to manipulate you into feeling bad; to do whatever he wanted but this feeling of love. This idiotic and overwhelming feeling to give you what you wanted; to make you happy… It stood in the way of everything. It made him soft.

“Come here”, you gently cupped his cheeks, “You’re everything you need to be. You always were but you can be so incredibly cruel. I-I’m scared of you, Chrollo. You realise that, right?”. “N-no, don’t be scared, I won’t ever do something like that-“. “You promised so many things-“. “A-and I gave you everything I promised!”, his eyes full of desperation. “And you broke it every single time”, you lowered your eyes as you took a step back. “Please, Y/N. Let’s just forget about this. J-just hold me like you used to-“. “I can’t”, your voice cracked, “I don’t trust you anymore”. “Y-you can trust me”, he took a step forward. “Y-you have to gain my trust back again”, you took a step back in response. Chrollo’s heart dropped to his stomach but he couldn’t argue back. This sickening feeling of love made him understand you more than he ever did.

“Fine”, he forced a smile, “I’ll make you trust me again”. “I-I”m going to call, Fei. I want to know where he is”. “Right”, Chrollo nodded as he turned away, “I’ll be in my study if you need anything. And don’t worry. Fei never left the house”.

“W-what?”, your heart raced. “You can be so foolish sometimes”, Chrollo chuckled, “You really think he’d leave you alone with me? He only pretended to leave even though he knew I’d easily see through his little game. He just wanted to know if you were going to forgive me”.

“And have you?”, Feitan suddenly appeared behind you. His aura a lot less patient than Chrollo’s.

  You don’t find the need to chase the impossible ideal this time. One doesn’t need to be a linguist expert in order to know no malice or warning is present in his voice, though one might need a bachelor’s degree and over four decades of experience in psychology to know he truly means nothing behind his calm demeanor. 

   You sign yourself to a fate you’re unsure of, and though it’s foolish, there’s nothing you can do anyway. You’re stuck with him, in a moving four-wheeled compartment, that’s also stuck in traffic. 

   “The music’s good.” Is all you say, and he hums in understanding. 

     Silence falls over the two of you again.

   You almost brought back the colorful reverie you were in before he decided to interject, until he reached for his phone to change the music. Oh, bluetooth, the convenient technology you are. His phone is located on the right of his steering wheel, far away from your reach. If he had reached for the audio system you would’ve been (maybe) able to slap his hand away. 

   “Hm, I’d rather you pay attention to me.” The lilt in his voice is unmistakable. And you almost gag, was that an attempt in flirting? Blegh.  

   “I’ll just stare at the cars,” Headlights and astigmatism can make a good duo, you remind yourself. 

   Chrollo hums again, You can almost laugh, so being stuck in your own daydreams and practically doing nothing is unacceptable, but staring at cars is alright? 

  You stare at a car, observing the way the light that emits from it’s headlights become blurry in your sights, they almost take shape of stars in your opinion. 

   So you set your sights on a particularly small black car in front of you, must be a Toyota or Avanza or something. You can’t tell, it’s got four wheels and headlights, so it’s a car. You could care less about what it is. That is why you weren’t all so interested when Chrollo took you a look into his….Rolls… Rolls what? Oh, right, Rolls Royce. It’s a fancy one, you can tell. He was exuding quite an air of importance when he was leading you towards the high-end vehicle located in the restaurant’s parking lot, there were some on-lookers around that spot that expressed interest at the car. It means something when even people of the middle-upper class are showing interest.

   Whatever ego that had probably swelled within Chrollo must’ve popped like a balloon, or so you hope, because you did nothing more than give him a thumbs up before letting yourself in the passenger’s seat. You also didn’t miss the way he was preparing to tell you about the car’s compartments and specialties that made it cost years of labor. Ah, you’re certain he didn’t gain this vehicle from labor, though. 

   Fancy car or not, everyone’s equally stuck in this traffic. 

   Fancy car or not, doesn’t determine that the song played inside the compartment is free from your judgment or not.

   “What song is this? You ask, although you know the answer. You somehow need an assurance that he is lucid. 

   “Please, please, please, by The Smiths.” He says, pleasant with his song of choice. 

   What an ironic song and artist of choice. 

    It’s harder to hide in a cackle than a scowl, you’d almost forgotten. Any voice you let out threatens to come out as sharp laughter and any breathe you intake threatens to become a wheeze. You could hardly contain yourself. 

   “Oh…” Is all you say before pausing, afraid anything else you will say will turn into a rowdy session of laughter. Unsure if you should speak further or not. But the inquisitive look he offers you somehow serves as a push rather than something that usually wants you to further seal your lips shut in fear you would say the wrong thing and earn his silent ire. It’s far, far harder to hide a cackle than a scowl, but months of training yourself to hide certain expressions whenever Chrollo is around has paid off. “What about Frank Sinatra?” 

 Chrollo smiles. Is he delighted that you find interest in one of his favorite artists? Though he’s never said it outloud, every long night drive has its silence filled with at least one Frank Sinatra song. 

   “Would you rather I change the song, dear?” He offers. And you would say yes, but this is one of the rare, rare moments where you are given the opportunity to take a jab at him. Although it’s nothing as deadly as anything a leader of the Phantom Troupe has faced, you won’t kill him or even hurt him for very long. But you are willing to do anything, at this point. 

   You feign the most pleasant voice you can muster, “Hm… That’s not really what I meant. I just didn’t think you’d listen to The Smiths.” 

   He lets out a small laugh, “Really? I have always listened to older songs around you, I suppose. I wouldn't say I like it… Hm, but it’s an interesting band.”

   So he does like it! 

   “Why do you think so?” You inquire further before adding, “Do you like this song a lot?”

   “Are you intending to interview me, (Name)?” Chrollo cocks his eyebrow, but it is only meant to tease you. 

  “Must’ve picked it up from someone.” A relentless pursuit, you press on further, “Okay though, but answer my question.” 

   Silence falls over him, as if he were in his own state of thinking so deeply, but you know it’s mainly a pretense. Whatever he wishes to say after, you know it must’ve been something he had thought of before. In any other situation, this silence often serves as to let a dreadful situation simmer in your mind.  But this time… Ah, you’re quite unsure. 

  Chrollo finally speaks,  “I’ll answer you of course.” The smile he gives you is anything but nice when you are very much aware of the condemnation those same lips bring you, “On the condition you’d kiss me after.”

  “Okay.” To his surprise, you agreed rather quickly. If that’s the sacrifice you need to make, then so be it. A kiss to soothe his soon-to-be sour, scorned face!

  He is satisfied, you can tell. He puts his elbow against the steering wheel, resting his face against his palm. “I don’t know why you’re suddenly interested, whatever designs you have in your head… Hm, I’ll know of it soon.” 

   No one fucking asked damn. You internally deadpanned, impatience is gnawing at your throat. He reminds you of how you’d write your essays when you have to reach a certain minimum word count by relentlessly dragging around a topic and beating around a bush so much that you end up writing a novel rather than an assignment. Ah… To make him anything alike to you doesn’t sound very right. Whatever, you digress. 

   Chrollo finally, finally starts. And you’re excited, elated, jovial- ah every synonym of the word happiness comes into mind. You can put any thesaurus at shame by now. “I remember the first time we met, you called me something of a hopeless romantic. At that time, I had only laughed because I found the sentiment rather off. Such nonsense. Me? An idealist of love? Love has always been a tool for me. You could only dream.”

   You cut to the chase,“Mhm, although you’ve found a contradiction because you actually enjoy those sappy songs right? Okay, what’s next?” 

   “You know me very well (You smile, excited). But that's not all (you frown, deflated).” Sweet, saccharine drips off of his voice. “I’ve never paid attention to such things, not for myself at least. I don’t ‘relate’ to those kinds of songs. But ever since I met you, it felt as if the world had shifted for me.” 

  He doesn’t stop, and for once you are glad he isn't, “My world has shifted and taken a hole in itself, one that has been carved into the shape of you.” 

  It is interesting how he is able to muse so freely about you, in front of you. Where is the shame and decorum?

   “And I do quite like this song, in all honesty.” His gaze meets yours, and grey eyes bore into your soul. “It really does remind me of the one I love so dearly.” 

   Please, please, please, let me get what I want… Those lyrics loop in your head over and over again. You should be sick with the abundance of affection he has for you that makes you seethe. And you would claw at the leather seats, avert your gaze, and try to block him out as much as you can. But tonight, you feel fucking amazing. 

  You can barely handle it. 

   “Dude, come on,” Your voice is off by an octave and you swear you can burst. Chrollo on the other hand finds satisfaction melting off of his face over the term being used to refer to him, outright calling him a bastard or a monster might be better. You make it a mental note to call him ‘dude’ more. “The Smiths is for losers.” 

   …

   “Pardon?’ 

   “The Smiths is for losers.” You repeat yourself before adding, “It’s for guys who can’t get any, for guys who waddle in sadness for something they can’t get, guys who are always up their own ass. Condescending guys who are secretly insecure, manipulative guys, guys who play guitar and get sad then do weed…” You are kind enough to give a long-winded further explanation.  Chrollo does not share the same sentiment. 

  Chrollo’s countenance seems unchanging at first, but it is not a waste, for you saw a split second of confusion, then something of offense written on his face before it smoothes out into the uncannily still expression he always wears. His lips open, then close, as if he’s mulling over an answer.

   “Are you insinuating I am that type of person, dearest?’ 

   "I mean if the shoe fits...? Well, what do you think?"

    He sighs like it’s obvious,  “That you made the wrong accusation over baseless data.” 

    “I’m not accusing you of anything!” You hold your hands up in mock defense, “Just telling you something everyone kind of agrees on. Things don’t have to be written in numbers or books… Sometimes it’s just a consensus. Everyone and their mom agrees on it."

   You are relentless tonight, so you continue again though Chrollo prompts nothing from your newfound talkative nature tonight, something you’re sure he would actually love in a different situation. 

   “These are the kind of guys girls avoid you know? People call it something of a warning. Like, ‘avoid guys who listen to The Smiths’.  I don’t mean to generalize or anything, but guys who listen to songs like that don’t end up to be very well in the head. And I also don’t mean to believe rumors but… Well…” You cough awkwardly, but it’s meant to deliver an unspoken message you know will only further test his ire. But you think you have had enough fun for tonight, you don’t wish to turn the night sour for you after all.

   …Or so you thought. 

   “So I’m just trying to say that you should treat me a little better, you know what I mean? I’m putting up with a lot” Everything you say here are meant to be a 50% insult, 30% jab, and 20% jokes. But the last thing you said, you can’t lie and say that you hope he’d take further thought on that. You yearn to hopefully be able to get out of the hotel room that serves as your grandiose cage more, and when you do, you aren’t being watched by an unknown amount of eyes that you know trail on to you by the shadows. That is all you wish for, really. That is to say, you can only wonder what his standards are for ‘treating you better’. 

   Ah, the smile he has on his face is different from before. This one is a sign that your fun is coming to a quick halt. 

   “So that’s what you’re getting at? Resourceful little minx you are.” 

   Why is he sounding so delighted over your insults, is he a masochist? Is he stupid? It’s your turn to cock your eyebrow. 

  “Have you enticed me in this long-winded conversation simply because you wanted to be treated a little better? And the way you had agreed so quickly to that kiss… " He puts a hand to his chest, a mockery of an apology. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to be so blind to your need for affection. You've gone through lengths to communicate your need, I'm very grateful."

  You let out a humorless laugh, “Pardon?” He is just truly-! Argh, whatever! “Did you not hear anything else I said?” You make sure to enunciate your words properly, afraid he might have some sort of hearing problems, well he does and you’re certain it has a name. What was it again? Oh right, an unfortunate combination of delusion and selective hearing… 

  “I know you tend to turn a little childish when you can’t get what you want. That’s not a quality many men like either. So, be a little kinder to me, won’t you?” 

  “Women don’t usually like mass murderers either. Anyone in their right mind, actually.”

   He hums, “That orange container of pills by your nightstand says otherwise. Not the best defense, try again?” 

   “You'd have some too, you just don't have any because you don't go to therapy."

   “Hm, keeping up that attitude won’t make me kiss you any sooner.” 

   “Then I’ll gladly keep this attitude!” 

   Unfortunately you don’t. You’re angry enough to have the energy to spew a million insults at lightspeed against him, but too angry to form a coherent thought that you’re certain would give him a decent jab. And to be frank, you’re rather spent. When you (reluctantly) asked Chrollo what time it was, thankfully he gave you a proper response. A quick tap of his phone showed that it was two and a half hours above your usual bedtime. The clothes you have aren’t the most comfortable either, while it’s not short they certainly expose areas where the wind would have too much fun dancing over. 

   Traffic is clearing as you can see the hotel you are both staying in come into view. You relax at the sight. You can almost feel the warm bath you will be soaking yourself in, what scent will you choose tonight? Rosemary, lavender… Ah, you can smell them already. You prompt to close your eyes for a moment of rest, but you find yourself sleeping on the rest of the way back.

   You feel fingers combing your locks stirring you awake, they’re Chrollo’s, obviously. Although you are half conscious, you recognize that scent of sandalwood and amber anywhere, as much as you’re ashamed to admit it. 

  “Do you want me to carry you?” Chrollo asks, and you murmur something in between a noise of annoyance and a ‘no’. He chuckles at this sight. “Alright then.” 

   He gives a soft peck on your lips, it’s warm. You almost lean in when the warmth of his lips leave yours, this half-conscious state gives him a moment of your vulnerability he has set his eyes on,  the one he relentlessly pursues after so much. But you know that even when he has a grasp at your vulnerability, it won’t stop him from digging for more. Greedy, ruthless man that he is, he will never stop. 

  “You are absolutely precious, you know that? Even if your mouth tends to run without care” Is that condescension or admiration in his voice? Pity, you can’t tell in the state you are in. You’re drunk from the lack of sleep and the future victory you have in mind. 

  “Before I answer that…” Your voice is barely above a whisper, Chrollo merrily leans in closer to hear you. Your lips ghost by the shell of his ear… 

  …

  “Name five songs from The Smiths. Are you like an actual fan or is it just FOMO?” 

   He just sighs.