#ophelia.req

“Angel, don’t you want some sunscreen too?” You ask, sitting down next to Chrollo and putting your sunglasses back on.

“I’ll be fine,” Chrollo promises, pressing a kiss to your lips before standing. The sunlight halos him, and he takes his time gazing over your body. “Do you want me to get food too?”

Nodding, you pout slightly as you gaze up at him. “Yes please.”

Chrollo takes your hand in his and presses a few kisses to the back of it. Using it as leverage, you get up onto your knees. Chrollo is already meeting you halfway for a kiss. Your hands wander across his broad chest, tangling in his hair before letting go and laying back down.

Chrollo departs, and you watch appreciatively as he walks away, the way the sunlight bounced off him, the dip in his back, the curve of his ass... It was all very enjoyable.

You sift through your bag, pulling out your book even though you knew you’d fall asleep reading it. The waves and the sand seemed to encourage it. Instead of reading, however, you take the time to gaze off into the waters. Mind wandering, it’s briefly filled with thoughts of dusk and candlelight and Chrollo down on one knee. 

The weight shifting on the bed distracts you from your daydream. You turn your full body to look at Chrollo, who is holding two drinks and looking at you with the most innocent face in the world. 

“Didn’t mean to disturb you,” Chrollo says, offering the drink to you. 

Taking it, you scoot to sit next to your boyfriend, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. You press your cheek to him, frowning slightly. 

“What’s wrong, love?” Chrollo asks, placing a hand on your thigh. 

“Your shoulder’s just really warm,” You state, pressing another kiss to it. 

“It’s hot outside,” Chrollo points out. “We are on the beach.” 

Rolling your eyes, you take a sip of your drink and let your cheek stay on Chrollo’s shoulder. Eyes glazing over his abs and his stomach, over the bulge in his swimmers. Briefly you wonder what he would do if you set your cold glass there. Chrollo’s hand travels up until it rests right under the swell of your ass, holding onto your thigh.

Best not to find out. 

The arm behind you keeps you close to him, skin against skin. You place a kiss to his chest, running your hand over the slowly reddening skin. 

“Ma pauvre,” You croon, catching Chrollo’s attention. "Did you get sunburnt getting drinks?” 

“No,” Chrollo insists, but takes in the way you set down your drink and right yourself on your knees, careful fingertips ghosting atop his skin with undivided attention. “It’s a possibility.” 

You smile at Chrollo, before grabbing your bag and pulling the sunscreen out. Reading the back of it, you then squeeze some into your hand. Chrollo lets out a soft sigh when your fingers touch his shoulders and slowly begin to work in the lotion. Under your touch, Chrollo slowly begins to relax. His breathing slows a little bit, steadying out, his eyes follow your movements, watching as your necklace shifts across your chest. 

Chrollo smiles to himself. A sense of pride starts to bubble up within him, and he looks over at the nosey neighbors. The man still catches the occasional glance over at the two of you. Raising his glass over, the man looks away, slightly flustered. 

“Maybe if he put out for his wife he wouldn’t be so intrusive,” You comment, using your thumb to rub in a straw piece of sunscreen. 

When you do break away, hello holds your gaze with a softness you didn’t know was possible. He places a kiss to your forehead, before wrapping his arms around you, nose tucked right behind your ear and taking a deep breath, eyes closing.

“Welcome home, baby,” You murmur, bringing your hands to slide up under his hair, softly rubbing at his scalp. He lets out a pleased up.

“Will you come shower with me?” Chrollo asks, hands sliding down to grab your ass for a moment, before wandering back up, sliding under your shirt and up your back.

“If you’d like. I was gonna make you something to eat though,” You say.

“Come shower with me,” Chrollo whispers. “I’ll make it worth your while. And then we can cook together.” He starts to shuffle the two of you back, much to your chagrin. But you go willingly, the two of you had long since outgrown the conserving water excuse.

Under the spray of the shower, Chrollo’s hands are everywhere, rarely leaving your smooth skin. He takes his time, crowding you against the wall with a hand around your waist, the other interwoven with your hand, pushed against the slick tile above your head. His lips move slowly against yours, as if water and time alike are endless. After your shower, you both get dressed in sleep clothes, soft satin alike.

In the kitchen, it’s the same image, Chrollo’s hands on your waist, the dip of your spine. While the curry simmers away on the stove, Chrollo is determined to box step you though the kitchen, to tilt your head back and lavish your lips and your jaw and your neck with kisses.

And you eat dinner on the couch, Chrollo eats so fast you’re worried he might choke on a piece of tofu. But he’s quick to lay down on the couch, wrap his arms around you and place his head on your chest. You can’t help but chuckle as he completely deflates, sinking into you.

His hands slide over your hips, squeezing the soft flesh of your love handles, running a hand up under your shirt to squeeze at your breast. However, you still had your dinner in your hands, and you lightly tapped Chrollo’s shoulder.

“Let me finish eating,” You lightly scold, only to be rewarded with Chrollo swiping his thumb over your nipple, a smile on his face.

“I’ve been deprived for so long,” Chrollo bemoans, pressing his face into your chest. “You make my world a thousand times better, every time I leave the house without you there is a hole in my heart that cannot be filled until you return to my arms.”

Earlier in your relationship, you would have been completely taken aback, flustered out of commission. Yet, three years in, the declaration of love makes your cheeks pink, your eyes roll, and a smile pull across your face. 

“You also have my entire soul, angel. I love you too.” 

Satisfied with that, Chrollo gives you a squeeze and a kiss, before settling back down on your chest. His hand rubs up and down your side, and he ignores the TV to talk to you instead. “What do you want to do tonight, my love?” His hand finds yours and he leaves a kiss to your knuckles.

“We can stay like this,” You murmur, ceasing your fingers through his hair. You trace the shell of his ear with your finger and he hums appreciatively.

“Good, good,” Chrollo’s voice is crackled and tired. His eyelids soon drop, lashes curling over dark underage circles. It isn’t before long that he’s fast asleep, grip tight around you. Occasionally, he sifts slightly, a little twitch here and there, a mumble or two.

chrollo checks your location, which has you at the nearest station, and waits. he waits for five minutes before checking again, and starts to worry when you haven’t moved. 

leaving some jenny on the table, chrollo stands and heads out, two untouched glasses of wine on the table, and two water glasses quickly picking up condensation 

he finds your phone has been turned in, going up to the woman behind the ticket booth and inquiring after it. she looks him up and down and goes “oh, i think i have a phone with your picture on the back!” and it’s your phone, with cracks on the screen and a polaroid of the two of you in the back. 

it makes his stomach churn a little bit, bile threatening to rise because of how disgustingly in love he looks. 

it doesn’t take long to find you after a quick text to shalnark, chrollo doesn’t trust himself to physically speak to anyone, and worries he might crush his phone in his hands. 

it’s one of those bounties on his head, a group of bounty hunters trying to enter retirement early. 

the apartment isn’t far from the station, and chrollo easily slips up to stand outside of the door. the tv is loud, echoing through the door. 

clearing his throat, trying to suppress his bloodlust, chrollo bangs on the door

the tv turns down slightly, there’s scuffling, so many locks come undone before the door opens, the chain still holding it closed. 

“can i help you?” 

chrollo nods, looking relieved. “i'm locked out of my apartment and my phone’s dead, do you have a charger i can use? my girlfriend’s got a spare, i just need to tell her to come help me out.” 

the man who answered the door looks a little nervous and glances over his shoulder, then back to chrollo. 

“sorry, can’t. missus is really paranoid about who comes in her space. you know what it’s like.” he chuckles nervously and chrollo wonders how long the fool must have been at this. 

“i get it,” chrollo says, sighing. “well, thanks for the help.” 

"good luck!” the man says and right before he shuts the door, chrollo grabs the handle and the man’s forearm in a bruising grip, yanking him close and slamming the door on his shoulder joint. there’s a sickening pop and the man screams out in pain. 

there’s panic on the other side of the room, and chrollo stops trying to hide his bloodlust. 

“i think you’re looking for me,” chrollo whispers, low and dangerous. “if i open this door and i see one hair out of place on my lover, i will do whatever you did to them five thousand times over.” 

fear smells so good. 

the brass chain lock breaks with a slightly enhanced shove from chrollo. the inside of the apartment is filthy, covered in old takeout boxes. your kidnappers didn’t seem to live here permanently, there wasn’t even a couch. 

the fight is so unbalanced, chrollo almost feels bad. almost. chrollo doesn’t remember the last time he slit a throat so fast. he doesn’t do it deep enough to kill the man immediately, and steps over his gurgling, pleading body. 

he heads down the hall, moving slowly and stepping over trash that littered the halls. 

the other kidnapper’s breathing is too heavy, there’s fear in every inhale. chrollo’s ears pick up on it, and with barely enough time to register her place in the apartment, chrollo turns and throws his knife, which impales itself into her forehead. she stumbles back, gasping, before crumpling to the floor. 

and then the apartment is silent. 

a moment of regret slides over chrollo. feitan would have appreciated the gifts, he thinks, but not even chrollo himself can raise the dead

he finds you in the bathtub, zipties on your wrists and ankles, your head lolled to the side, resting against the tile. you’re dressed for dinner, expensive clothes and no jewelry. chrollo leaves a mental note to himself to have someone come back and look for them. 

his fingers immediately slide up under your jaw, pressing and trying to feel a pulse. he lets out an exhale of relief. 

“you are the luckiest person i know,” chrollo whispers. he looks around the bathroom and finds a razor, quickly cutting your ties. 

the small jostling is enough to bring you to your senses, inhaling sharply. you look so freaked out, looking around before your gaze lands on chrollo. 

chrollo takes a deep breath, filling his lungs up all the way before he cups your face, pressing his forehead against yours. he whispers your name like he’s repenting, thumb grazing over your cheekbone. 

shaking, you reach out to touch chrollo’s shoulder, fisting his suit jacket. it takes a few moments before you slide to rest your head in the crook of his neck, and you can’t stop the tears that fall, spurred by terror and relief as every emotion under the sun coursed through your body. 

and you’ve never heard chrollo apologize before-- it was always forehead kisses or new earrings or massages-- but he whispers an “i’m sorry,” in your ear, followed by promises about how this would never happen again, he wouldn’t let it. 

He continues his lazy turn about the room, eventually standing in front of a case that contained pearls of every shape and size. The ocean never stopped giving. Whistling, Chrollo beckoned Shalnark over to crack open the case. 

The pearls were soft, natural and beautiful. His gaze falls upon an earring, there’s only one, the pearl smoothed down to the shape of a crescent moon. 

[First] always buys things with moons on them, Chrollo thinks to himself, before pocketing the earring. Women and the moon ... Chrollo had learned it was easier to just acknowledge all women were in love with the moon, rather than understand it. His attention is captured, however, by the sound of a door opening. Blood splatters across his robe, hair sweaty and pushed out of his face, Feitan has an excited look in his eyes. 

“He’s talking.”

“Excellent,” Chrollo says, then looks to Shalnark, “While I’m preoccupied, pack up this room.” 

Standing on the metro with Nobunaga and Pakunoda, Chrollo watches as the sun rises. He can’t help the little breath of happiness that swells up in him upon the realization he’ll get to see you in the morning light instead of in the dark of night. Maybe, if he was lucky, you wouldn’t have woken up yet. 

“Something funny?” Pakunoda asks, raising an eyebrow. 

Chrollo looks over at her, and realizes the faintest smile has wormed his way onto his face. He quickly steels himself. “I was just enjoying the sunrise.” 

The train jostles, and Chrollo takes special care to ensure that Pakunoda doesn’t touch him. On anyone else, his lie would have floated past. But Pakunoda knows him too well, nen ability or not.

Pushing the door open to your apartment, Chrollo tries to stay as quiet as possible. The sunlight shines through the windows, catching on the bits of stained glass, washing over the assortment of plants. The coffee has yet to start brewing. Coming over to the couch, Chrollo folds the throw blanket, before heading into the bedroom. 

The door is cracked slightly, and when he pushes it open he’s greeted with the most wonderful sight. The sunlight spills into the bedroom, across the mess of sheets you’ve tangled yourself up in during the night. You lay in the sunlight, as if searching for it in your dreams, arms wrapped around a pillow and lips parted slightly. 

Crossing the room, Chrollo takes it upon himself to pick up your sweatpants off the floor and throw them over the back of a chair, throwing his pants over them moments after, not wanting to risk getting the bed dirty. Balancing with one knee on the bed, he placed a soft kiss atop your cheekbone. Unable to help himself, he placed one more upon the soft of your cheek, then your brow bone. 

Over breakfast in bed, Chrollo recounts the smaller aspects of his most recent heist to you. The way the firenzes looked, the way the carpet was the same color as blood and pomegranate seeds. The ballroom, the portraits, the extravagant signs of wealth. 

“None of it is as beautiful as you,” Chrollo says solemnly. You were always so beautiful in the morning light, somedays Chrollo wished he could keep the sun from setting. “I’m starting to think nothing will ever compare.” 

Your hand leaves your coffee mug, pushing through Chrollo’s clean and fluffy hair. He leans into the touch, eyes slipping shut. “A wise man would worship you as he does the seasons.” 

“You’re a very wise man,” You say, smiling softly. Chrollo opens his eyes to look up at you, as grey and as bright as an eclipse. “And very pretty too.” 

Chrollo lets out a bashful huff. It only causes your smile to grow even wider. 

He offers a warm mug to you, the steam wafting chamomile towards you, fogging up your glasses when you bring it close to your face. You push your glasses back, not wanting to bother cleaning them. 

“I do,” You say, and Chrollo gives a pleased smile as he sits down next to you. 

“Good. I thought you might.” The moonlight caresses Chrollo’s skin, dipping against eye bags, skating across his nose. He lifts an arm up, and you would be a fool to not slide under it, resting your cheek on his shoulder. 

A pleased hum comes from the back of Chrollo’s throat, his eyes glimmering and unreadable, like disjointed constellations on a clear night. 

“I know how much you dislike the city,” He adds, casually. 

“Awful for inspiration,” You murmur, taking a tentative sip of your tea, not wanting to burn yourself. The city could bring so much inspiration, but you could only bear to be around people for so long before you wanted to simply cry. But the endless woods? The howls from indistinguishable animals, the hum of the night sky? Where you could cry to the moon and scream at the sun as you pleased? 

Chrollo places a kiss to your forehead. It’s soft, like a lure, and you can’t help but lean further into the comfort he provides. “If you love it as much as I hope you do, we could disappear together here.” 

Disappear together. The idea is tantalizing, as you think about being able to exist purely within each other’s worlds, revolve in each other’s words. 

You don’t want to appear easy, but you know you already are. Chrollo knows it too, the two of you revel in unspoken truths. 

“We can see,” You say. “Are you trying to steal me away?” 

Chrollo smiles. He looks almost ethereal, this far away from the city lights. You wonder, briefly, how much he must compare in looks to brave Orion. So much, the moon loves him too much. How could Chrollo ever want to slip back to the city when he appeared so at peace in the forest?

“I’m simply stealing you away from that garden you stay locked up in,” Chrollo explains, tucking a stand of hair behind your ear. “Just for a weekend.” 

Or two, or three, or four-five-six weekends. Perhaps fifty-two. Perhaps until the eternal darkness returns. Perhaps until the end of the world. 

“Drink up, darling, it’s late,” Chrollo prods. 

You raise the mug to your lips, and take a small sip. “It’s not that late.”

“You caught me,” Chrollo admits, letting the white lie go with a gentle sigh. “I’m simply jealous of the moon, and the starts, and the sky. They have so much of your attention, I simply want a drop. Can you blame me?” 

Shaking your head, you sit up to look at Chrollo, his hand sliding down to rest on your thigh instead. “You have nothing to be jealous of,” You cup Chrollo’s cheek, placing a soft kiss to his lips, tasting of vanilla and myrrh. His hand slides to wrap around your waist, pulling you as close as possible. You smile against his lips, how could you not? 

“One might think you were an astral body then too, angel, given that you occupy every part of my mind.” 

Chrollo smiles against your lips, all pleased pride and sharp canines as he kisses you, passion dripping between your bodies. You’re careful with your mug of hot tea, lips moving slow against Chrollo’s. There’s no rush under the moonlight, no rush even as the woods howl, with wind or gods know what. Bathed in starlight, backed by the oak wood the two of you sat upon, there was truly nothing to be worried about.