nefertiti-wright

[nefertiti-wright]

Haha oups sorry 👀

Thank you for reading, I'm glad you like it!

A Story between the Librairian and the Thief

Chapter 20

Author’s note: Okay, so I’m not sure about this one, but I was too tired to keep changing it I hope you’ll love it. If not, I’ll understand.

Warning: This chapter while not explicit, contains some sexual content. It’s more of a love scene than a sex scene, but I prefer to give a warn in case you’re not comfortable with that or if you’re a minor.

I also can't write smut lmao

It was two in the morning. Rain was pouring down hard over Yorknew; though not as hard as her heartbeat.

Chrollo stood there, right in front of her, looking downcast, his clothes drenched.

What struck (Y/N) the most was his hair, half undone and plastered to his forehead... and especially the large wound across his face, as if someone had hit him hard.

“What happened to you?” the young woman asked, unable to hide the concern in her voice. His arm trembled where it rested against the doorframe.

“Just a... minor problem,” he replied simply.Silence fell over the hallway of the building.

“Come in,” she murmured, already heading to the bathroom to grab the first-aid kit.

Without missing a beat, Chrollo stepped into the apartment with a light tread. He looked around as if seeing the place for the first time.

Yet just a few months ago, he had called it home.

Only the lights near the aquarium lit the room. The fish swam like free spirits, their movements forming a quiet, hypnotic dance.

Chrollo slowly approached the aquarium, drawn in by the calm that radiated from it. The soft ripple of the water stood in stark contrast to the violence he had just left behind.

He reached out, almost absently, as if to touch the glass; but stopped just a few centimeters short.He wasn’t sure he had the right to touch anything here anymore.

“Sit down,” (Y/N) said, holding the first-aid kit in her hands.

He nodded, even though she couldn’t see it, and made his way to the sofa. The cold leather and the familiar scent of the living room caught in his throat. A memory, fleeting but vivid, surged through him: laughter, a winter evening, a blanket, a cup of tea…

(Y/N) pulled up a chair and sat down across from Chrollo, examining his wound more closely.

She didn’t need to know who had done this to him. After all, she suspected a man like him had no shortage of enemies.

She took the disinfectant and gently dabbed it on his cheek, careful not to hurt him.

The living room had gone quiet. Outside, the rain still pounded, as if summer were exhaling its final breath before surrendering to autumn.

She continued tending to him in silence, but Chrollo’s gaze unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.

"Why is he looking at me like that… like I’m the only thing keeping him alive", she thought, shaken.

“If something’s bothering you, say it,” Chrollo said calmly, his eyes still fixed on her, waiting.

(Y/N) froze mid-motion, then slowly looked up at him.

It wasn’t anger or resentment like it had been two days ago. It was surprise… and something else she still didn’t dare to name.

She swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in her throat, then finally asked,

“Why are you here? Why did you come back?”

Chrollo lowered his gaze slightly, as if searching for words somewhere between the flickering light and the shadows dancing across the living room. Then he looked up and locked eyes with her.

“I hadn’t planned to come here... And yet, as I walked, my steps brought me back. That’s when I realized...I’d never really left this place,” he murmured.

He paused. His face remained expressionless, but his voice carried a deep, quiet exhaustion.

“Some places I leave physically… but not here,” he added, resting his hand gently against her cheek.(Y/N) stared at him, trying to read the truth behind his words.

“Are you manipulating me again?”

Chrollo held her gaze with a softness she hadn’t expected.

“I’ve never manipulated you, (Y/N). In fact… I’ve never been more myself than I am with you more than with anyone else in this world,” he said, his hand still cupping her cheek.

The young bookseller breathed softly, letting his words sink in.

“Then let me ask you something,” she said, her gaze fixed on his, intense and unwavering.

“All those people you’ve wronged… do you regret it?”

Chrollo was silent for a few seconds. His eyes lost focus slightly, as if pulled into a memory far away. Then he slowly straightened his posture.

“No,” he said simply.

The word dropped into the room like a stone into water: clean, raw, irrevocable.

But he went on, his voice lower now; almost weary,

“To regret… would be to deny what I am. What I’ve built. And I can’t do that.”

He paused, then added, more to himself than to her,“Besides, wasn’t it you who once told me that we shouldn’t regret our actions, but take responsibility for them?”

(Y/N) froze. The confusion in her eyes turned suddenly to ice.

“What are you implying? That I believe people who do horrible things aren’t to blame?”

She straightened slowly, jaw clenched, as if her own memories were rising to strike her across the face.

“You know very well what I meant, Chrollo. Taking responsibility doesn’t erase anything. It’s not an excuse. It’s not a shield.”

“I wasn’t saying it to justify myself,” he replied simply, with that disarming calm of his.

“Just stating a fact.”

(Y/N) closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply; as if holding something back.

Anger, sorrow… maybe both.

“Sometimes I wish I’d never met you,” she said, looking up at Chrollo, her eyes burning.

He took the words without flinching, but his gaze darkened slightly, as if his pupils absorbed every word, every flame.

“I know,” he said quietly.

He didn’t try to defend himself. He didn’t try to change her mind. That wasn’t his style. He simply looked at her; the way one looks at a truth they can no longer escape.

“And sometimes… I wish I hadn’t crossed your path either,” he said at last.

“Because since you… nothing has been simple.”

A flash of lightning split the sky in the distance, casting fleeting, shifting patterns of aquarium light across the walls. The rain still lashed against the windows, but inside the living room, it was a storm of a different kind that rumbled.“

So why did you come back?” she asked.

“Why not just disappear, like you’re so good at doing?”

Chrollo tilted his head slightly.

“Because this time… I wanted to see if there was anything in me still worth staying for.”

A heavy silence settled over the room. Only their heartbeats remained; loud, in sync, almost painful.

Their eyes locked with a searing intensity, as if a single blink might shatter something fragile hanging between them.

Then, suddenly, (Y/N) leaned in, grabbed the collar of Chrollo’s coat, and kissed him; fiercely, with a fury that had been caged for far too long.

He kissed her back instantly, his hands sliding to her hips, pulling her close against him.

There was nothing gentle about it. It was raw, bruising; charged with everything they’d never said: the anger, the longing, the guilt, the want.

A kiss that burned as much as it healed.

(Y/N)’s fingers clutched at the fabric of his rain-soaked coat. She was cold, but she was burning. She trembled; and still she held on, as if letting go would destroy her.

Their lips met again; this time slower, more deliberate. The fire hadn’t faded; it had transformed. No longer violent, it now burned with raw, aching desire.

Chrollo brushed his tongue along her lower lip, a silent request. (Y/N) parted her mouth, and the connection deepened instantly. Their tongues met in a languid, measured, yet hungry dance.

Every movement between them was a quiet confession, a tender challenge. His tongue slid against hers...slow, possessive; as if he meant to taste her, breathe her in, memorize the rhythm of her heartbeat.

(Y/N) sighed into his mouth, her hands threading through his still-damp hair, pulling him closer, closer; as though even this touch, this closeness, could never be enough.

Chrollo rose to his feet, and in a motion both firm and natural, lifted (Y/N) by the thighs. She instinctively wrapped her legs around him, their bodies already pressed together, their breaths tangled.

Without a word, he carried her to the bedroom; guided not by thought, but by something deeper, more sacred than will: a silent need.

Once inside, he laid her gently on the bed, his hands lingering on her thighs, as if reluctant to let go.

They separated, just enough to meet each other’s eyes. The silence was complete. No words. No sounds. Only their gaze, searching, questioning... answering without speaking.

It was a moment suspended in time. A breathless expectation.

A silent affirmation.

(Y/N) nodded softly.

"Kiss me", she said. Then Chrollo leaned in again, but this time his kiss was different: slower, deeper.

His hands moved gently from her waist to her chest, his touch both reverent and charged with sensuality, as if he were trying to memorize every curve with his fingertips.

With near-painful patience, he slid down the top of (Y/N)’s pajamas, revealing her skin inch by inch; as though he were unveiling something sacred.

And then he paused.

He looked at her with a gaze so intense it felt almost unreal.

He wasn’t looking at her the way a man looks at a woman.

He was looking at her the way one looks at a masterpiece, something untouchable, and yet impossibly close.

As if he were seeing her for the first time… or the last.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, not to seduce, but simply because it was true.

(Y/N) looked at him, her eyes dark with desire and emotion, before kissing him again. This time, the kiss was more urgent, more insistent. Her body was burning, vibrating with a tension she could no longer contain.

She slid her hands beneath his soaked coat and pushed it off with a decisive motion, then moved to the shirt he wore underneath. Her fingers trembled slightly, but her gaze never left his.

Once she was bare from the waist up, Chrollo didn’t rush. He let her take control for a moment, his hands sliding up her thighs, caressing her with his signature controlled gentleness.

(Y/N) guided his fingertips up her torso, tracing the curve of her collarbone, until his palm rested flat against her chest, right over her heartbeat.

One by one, their clothes fell away in the hush of the room, like autumn leaves drifting to the ground.(Y/N) found herself bare under his gaze...tingling, breathless.

Chrollo knelt at the edge of the bed, his hands gliding slowly along her parted thighs with that same deliberate tenderness that defined him.

He looked at her as one might gaze upon a hidden garden; sacred, secret, forbidden to all but him.

His fingers brushed the inside of her thigh first, feather-light, then wandered upward, tracing her contours as though he were reading a language written only on her skin.

He touched her with near-reverence, every motion deliberate, almost ritualistic.

She opened to his touch like a flower unfolding in sunlight; sensitive, exposed, beautiful in her surrender.

Her warmth called to him, soft and inviting, and he answered by slipping two fingers between her silken folds.

(Y/N) arched her back slightly beneath his touch, a soft sigh slipping from her parted lips.

Chrollo barely smiled; focused, absorbed. He moved with patient rhythm, listening to her, trying to understand, to give her more than mere pleasure. Then his lips traced a slow path downward, following the line of her fingers.

His tongue brushed the delicate petals of her flesh with disarming gentleness, alternating pressure and softness; like a breeze caressing a field of blooming flowers.

Every tremble from (Y/N) was a response; every sigh, a silent chord.

She had become pure sensation; cradled between his hands and mouth, offered without shame, in complete trust.

A warm, full, unstoppable wave rose inside her.

And in that rising, there was no remorse, no fear.

There was only them.

Only this moment.

(Y/N) panted, her breathing quickening in rhythm with Chrollo’s movements; his expert fingers, his precise, devoted tongue. Her sighs grew uneven, laced with soft moans she no longer tried to suppress.

“Chrollo…” she breathed, trembling, his name slipping from her lips like a prayer.

He answered with a deeper, slower pressure, as if he understood exactly where she was caught between control and surrender.

Her hips quivered, her fingers clutched at the sheets, and a long, fractured breath left her half-moan, half-shuddering sigh. Her head fell back, eyes closed, as a searing heat surged through her, stealing every thought but one: him.

Her body tensed all at once, then melted like a wave crashing gently onto the shore.

The orgasm washed over her in a hush of warmth and light, dazed and silent, almost unreal.

Chrollo gently lifted his head, his hands still holding her; as if trying to keep her whole while she unraveled beneath him.

Silence settled over them again, but this time it pulsed with a different tension; soft, burning, sacred.

Chrollo moved up along (Y/N)’s body, kissing each inch of skin like he was tracing a path only he could follow.

Their eyes met, locked and in that wordless exchange, deeper than language, she gave him permission.

Their bodies found each other again, fitting together slowly, like two pieces of a mystery finally solved.

(Y/N) sighed a faint, trembling sound. Then a soft moan escaped her lips as Chrollo entered her, with deliberate, reverent slowness, almost painful in its tenderness.

She felt full. Complete. As though some ancient emptiness had finally been sealed shut.

Her body opened to him like a rare flower, patiently nurtured under the slow light of long-suppressed desire.

Every movement within her was like warm wind passing through soft petals, making them tremble; claiming a place within them.

(Y/N)’s moans became a gentle melody, carried on breaths that came in uneven waves.

Chrollo’s rhythm was steady, precise...almost choreographed. Each thrust was its own unspoken phrase, a language built in silence.

He never looked away. His eyes were locked on hers, and (Y/N) found herself lost in them, unable and unwilling to escape.

Everything was there in that gaze: the fire, the fragility, the ache of absence...And maybe, though she fought to deny it...a remnant of love.

Her hands framed his face, or sometimes slid down along his hips, matching his rhythm.

Beneath him, she welcomed every movement with instinctive fluidity, her legs bent gently around his waist; as if to hold him there, or never let him go.

Chrollo kept watching her, as though he wanted to carve this moment into memory or perhaps, into oblivion.

(Y/N) let herself drift, submerged by the burning wave rising within her with each motion, each breath.

Her legs tightened around him, her back arched, and her fingers found the nape of his neck before trailing down his back.

She clung to him, gently at first.

But as the pleasure surged like a silent storm, her nails dug into his skin, drawing invisible lines at first... then deeper.

Marks of passage.

Desire scars.

A moan escaped her, louder this time, broken as her body tensed beneath him.

Her climax swept over her like a wave, long and wrenching, sweet and violent all at once.

She clung to him with all her strength, as if his body were the only anchor in the storm.

Chrollo closed his eyes for a brief moment, feeling her tighten around him.

He barely slowed, but his breath grew ragged, his thrusts deeper, more urgent.

(Y/N) whispered his name one last time and that single word, that offering, pushed him over the edge.

He surrendered in silence, one charged with heat and the release of restraint.

His whole body tensed above her, then slowly unraveled, like a taut rope finally allowed to give.

For a long moment, they stayed there, forehead to forehead, breath to breath, still caught in the echo of everything they'd just shared.

The marks on his back, invisible to the world, burned softly like a truth he could no longer ignore.

Chrollo slowly shifted onto his side, taking (Y/N) with him.

She nestled against him without a word, her head resting on his chest, still damp with their shared heat.

Her arms wrapped around him instinctively, as if they already knew exactly where to belong.

The sheets slipped over their bare skin, barely covering their still-burning bodies.

Outside, the rain had stopped, leaving only a few hesitant drops tapping gently against the windows.

(Y/N)’s eyes were closed now, her breath calm and steady, one hand resting over Chrollo’s heart, where it still beat fast beneath her touch.

He slowly ran a hand down her back in a lingering caress.

He remained silent, his thoughts drifting far; but anchored here, in this fragile, fleeting present.

He looked at her with tenderness, with love... and with regret.

He didn’t want to leave.

He wanted to stay.With her. In her arms. In this place.

But he couldn’t.

So he pressed a kiss to her forehead and whispered a quiet “sorry” against her hair.

Morning light filtered softly through the curtains, gentle and hesitant, brushing (Y/N)’s skin still numb with sleep.

She slowly opened her eyes, her heart suspended somewhere between dreaming and waking.

Her arm reached out beside her, exactly where Chrollo had fallen asleep…

Empty. Cold.

The sheet had slipped down, crumpled, bearing the faint imprint of a body already vanishing.

She sat up slowly, her throat tight.

She knew.

Deep down, she had always known.

And then she saw it.

A small, folded piece of paper lay on the pillow where he had slept.

She reached out hesitantly, her heart pounding faster. Her fingers closed around it, unfolding the note with trembling care.

His handwriting. Precise. Elegant.

“Remember me when I am gone away,

Gone far away into the silent land;

Better by far you should forget and smile

Than that you should remember and be sad.”

She knew the poem.

And she knew exactly what he meant.

The words slipped slowly into her heart, and the first tears fell silently onto the crumpled paper.

Then came a sob...quiet, but devastating.

This time, he was gone.

Truly gone.

Just as he had come: silently, between two heartbeats.

A shadow that had passed through her light.

End

Author’s note: The poem is not mine, it's from Christina Rossetti called "Remember"

Tag list: @queenmimis @gurlhere4fluff @chaoticotaku

[nefertiti-wright]

A Story between the Librairian and the Thief

Chapter 20

Author’s note: Okay, so I’m not sure about this one, but I was too tired to keep changing it I hope you’ll love it. If not, I’ll understand.

Warning: This chapter while not explicit, contains some sexual content. It’s more of a love scene than a sex scene, but I prefer to give a warn in case you’re not comfortable with that or if you’re a minor.

I also can't write smut lmao

It was two in the morning. Rain was pouring down hard over Yorknew; though not as hard as her heartbeat.

Chrollo stood there, right in front of her, looking downcast, his clothes drenched.

What struck (Y/N) the most was his hair, half undone and plastered to his forehead... and especially the large wound across his face, as if someone had hit him hard.

“What happened to you?” the young woman asked, unable to hide the concern in her voice. His arm trembled where it rested against the doorframe.

“Just a... minor problem,” he replied simply.Silence fell over the hallway of the building.

“Come in,” she murmured, already heading to the bathroom to grab the first-aid kit.

Without missing a beat, Chrollo stepped into the apartment with a light tread. He looked around as if seeing the place for the first time.

Yet just a few months ago, he had called it home.

Only the lights near the aquarium lit the room. The fish swam like free spirits, their movements forming a quiet, hypnotic dance.

Chrollo slowly approached the aquarium, drawn in by the calm that radiated from it. The soft ripple of the water stood in stark contrast to the violence he had just left behind.

He reached out, almost absently, as if to touch the glass; but stopped just a few centimeters short.He wasn’t sure he had the right to touch anything here anymore.

“Sit down,” (Y/N) said, holding the first-aid kit in her hands.

He nodded, even though she couldn’t see it, and made his way to the sofa. The cold leather and the familiar scent of the living room caught in his throat. A memory, fleeting but vivid, surged through him: laughter, a winter evening, a blanket, a cup of tea…

(Y/N) pulled up a chair and sat down across from Chrollo, examining his wound more closely.

She didn’t need to know who had done this to him. After all, she suspected a man like him had no shortage of enemies.

She took the disinfectant and gently dabbed it on his cheek, careful not to hurt him.

The living room had gone quiet. Outside, the rain still pounded, as if summer were exhaling its final breath before surrendering to autumn.

She continued tending to him in silence, but Chrollo’s gaze unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.

"Why is he looking at me like that… like I’m the only thing keeping him alive", she thought, shaken.

“If something’s bothering you, say it,” Chrollo said calmly, his eyes still fixed on her, waiting.

(Y/N) froze mid-motion, then slowly looked up at him.

It wasn’t anger or resentment like it had been two days ago. It was surprise… and something else she still didn’t dare to name.

She swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in her throat, then finally asked,

“Why are you here? Why did you come back?”

Chrollo lowered his gaze slightly, as if searching for words somewhere between the flickering light and the shadows dancing across the living room. Then he looked up and locked eyes with her.

“I hadn’t planned to come here... And yet, as I walked, my steps brought me back. That’s when I realized...I’d never really left this place,” he murmured.

He paused. His face remained expressionless, but his voice carried a deep, quiet exhaustion.

“Some places I leave physically… but not here,” he added, resting his hand gently against her cheek.(Y/N) stared at him, trying to read the truth behind his words.

“Are you manipulating me again?”

Chrollo held her gaze with a softness she hadn’t expected.

“I’ve never manipulated you, (Y/N). In fact… I’ve never been more myself than I am with you more than with anyone else in this world,” he said, his hand still cupping her cheek.

The young bookseller breathed softly, letting his words sink in.

“Then let me ask you something,” she said, her gaze fixed on his, intense and unwavering.

“All those people you’ve wronged… do you regret it?”

Chrollo was silent for a few seconds. His eyes lost focus slightly, as if pulled into a memory far away. Then he slowly straightened his posture.

“No,” he said simply.

The word dropped into the room like a stone into water: clean, raw, irrevocable.

But he went on, his voice lower now; almost weary,

“To regret… would be to deny what I am. What I’ve built. And I can’t do that.”

He paused, then added, more to himself than to her,“Besides, wasn’t it you who once told me that we shouldn’t regret our actions, but take responsibility for them?”

(Y/N) froze. The confusion in her eyes turned suddenly to ice.

“What are you implying? That I believe people who do horrible things aren’t to blame?”

She straightened slowly, jaw clenched, as if her own memories were rising to strike her across the face.

“You know very well what I meant, Chrollo. Taking responsibility doesn’t erase anything. It’s not an excuse. It’s not a shield.”

“I wasn’t saying it to justify myself,” he replied simply, with that disarming calm of his.

“Just stating a fact.”

(Y/N) closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply; as if holding something back.

Anger, sorrow… maybe both.

“Sometimes I wish I’d never met you,” she said, looking up at Chrollo, her eyes burning.

He took the words without flinching, but his gaze darkened slightly, as if his pupils absorbed every word, every flame.

“I know,” he said quietly.

He didn’t try to defend himself. He didn’t try to change her mind. That wasn’t his style. He simply looked at her; the way one looks at a truth they can no longer escape.

“And sometimes… I wish I hadn’t crossed your path either,” he said at last.

“Because since you… nothing has been simple.”

A flash of lightning split the sky in the distance, casting fleeting, shifting patterns of aquarium light across the walls. The rain still lashed against the windows, but inside the living room, it was a storm of a different kind that rumbled.“

So why did you come back?” she asked.

“Why not just disappear, like you’re so good at doing?”

Chrollo tilted his head slightly.

“Because this time… I wanted to see if there was anything in me still worth staying for.”

A heavy silence settled over the room. Only their heartbeats remained; loud, in sync, almost painful.

Their eyes locked with a searing intensity, as if a single blink might shatter something fragile hanging between them.

Then, suddenly, (Y/N) leaned in, grabbed the collar of Chrollo’s coat, and kissed him; fiercely, with a fury that had been caged for far too long.

He kissed her back instantly, his hands sliding to her hips, pulling her close against him.

There was nothing gentle about it. It was raw, bruising; charged with everything they’d never said: the anger, the longing, the guilt, the want.

A kiss that burned as much as it healed.

(Y/N)’s fingers clutched at the fabric of his rain-soaked coat. She was cold, but she was burning. She trembled; and still she held on, as if letting go would destroy her.

Their lips met again; this time slower, more deliberate. The fire hadn’t faded; it had transformed. No longer violent, it now burned with raw, aching desire.

Chrollo brushed his tongue along her lower lip, a silent request. (Y/N) parted her mouth, and the connection deepened instantly. Their tongues met in a languid, measured, yet hungry dance.

Every movement between them was a quiet confession, a tender challenge. His tongue slid against hers...slow, possessive; as if he meant to taste her, breathe her in, memorize the rhythm of her heartbeat.

(Y/N) sighed into his mouth, her hands threading through his still-damp hair, pulling him closer, closer; as though even this touch, this closeness, could never be enough.

Chrollo rose to his feet, and in a motion both firm and natural, lifted (Y/N) by the thighs. She instinctively wrapped her legs around him, their bodies already pressed together, their breaths tangled.

Without a word, he carried her to the bedroom; guided not by thought, but by something deeper, more sacred than will: a silent need.

Once inside, he laid her gently on the bed, his hands lingering on her thighs, as if reluctant to let go.

They separated, just enough to meet each other’s eyes. The silence was complete. No words. No sounds. Only their gaze, searching, questioning... answering without speaking.

It was a moment suspended in time. A breathless expectation.

A silent affirmation.

(Y/N) nodded softly.

"Kiss me", she said. Then Chrollo leaned in again, but this time his kiss was different: slower, deeper.

His hands moved gently from her waist to her chest, his touch both reverent and charged with sensuality, as if he were trying to memorize every curve with his fingertips.

With near-painful patience, he slid down the top of (Y/N)’s pajamas, revealing her skin inch by inch; as though he were unveiling something sacred.

And then he paused.

He looked at her with a gaze so intense it felt almost unreal.

He wasn’t looking at her the way a man looks at a woman.

He was looking at her the way one looks at a masterpiece, something untouchable, and yet impossibly close.

As if he were seeing her for the first time… or the last.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, not to seduce, but simply because it was true.

(Y/N) looked at him, her eyes dark with desire and emotion, before kissing him again. This time, the kiss was more urgent, more insistent. Her body was burning, vibrating with a tension she could no longer contain.

She slid her hands beneath his soaked coat and pushed it off with a decisive motion, then moved to the shirt he wore underneath. Her fingers trembled slightly, but her gaze never left his.

Once she was bare from the waist up, Chrollo didn’t rush. He let her take control for a moment, his hands sliding up her thighs, caressing her with his signature controlled gentleness.

(Y/N) guided his fingertips up her torso, tracing the curve of her collarbone, until his palm rested flat against her chest, right over her heartbeat.

One by one, their clothes fell away in the hush of the room, like autumn leaves drifting to the ground.(Y/N) found herself bare under his gaze...tingling, breathless.

Chrollo knelt at the edge of the bed, his hands gliding slowly along her parted thighs with that same deliberate tenderness that defined him.

He looked at her as one might gaze upon a hidden garden; sacred, secret, forbidden to all but him.

His fingers brushed the inside of her thigh first, feather-light, then wandered upward, tracing her contours as though he were reading a language written only on her skin.

He touched her with near-reverence, every motion deliberate, almost ritualistic.

She opened to his touch like a flower unfolding in sunlight; sensitive, exposed, beautiful in her surrender.

Her warmth called to him, soft and inviting, and he answered by slipping two fingers between her silken folds.

(Y/N) arched her back slightly beneath his touch, a soft sigh slipping from her parted lips.

Chrollo barely smiled; focused, absorbed. He moved with patient rhythm, listening to her, trying to understand, to give her more than mere pleasure. Then his lips traced a slow path downward, following the line of her fingers.

His tongue brushed the delicate petals of her flesh with disarming gentleness, alternating pressure and softness; like a breeze caressing a field of blooming flowers.

Every tremble from (Y/N) was a response; every sigh, a silent chord.

She had become pure sensation; cradled between his hands and mouth, offered without shame, in complete trust.

A warm, full, unstoppable wave rose inside her.

And in that rising, there was no remorse, no fear.

There was only them.

Only this moment.

(Y/N) panted, her breathing quickening in rhythm with Chrollo’s movements; his expert fingers, his precise, devoted tongue. Her sighs grew uneven, laced with soft moans she no longer tried to suppress.

“Chrollo…” she breathed, trembling, his name slipping from her lips like a prayer.

He answered with a deeper, slower pressure, as if he understood exactly where she was caught between control and surrender.

Her hips quivered, her fingers clutched at the sheets, and a long, fractured breath left her half-moan, half-shuddering sigh. Her head fell back, eyes closed, as a searing heat surged through her, stealing every thought but one: him.

Her body tensed all at once, then melted like a wave crashing gently onto the shore.

The orgasm washed over her in a hush of warmth and light, dazed and silent, almost unreal.

Chrollo gently lifted his head, his hands still holding her; as if trying to keep her whole while she unraveled beneath him.

Silence settled over them again, but this time it pulsed with a different tension; soft, burning, sacred.

Chrollo moved up along (Y/N)’s body, kissing each inch of skin like he was tracing a path only he could follow.

Their eyes met, locked and in that wordless exchange, deeper than language, she gave him permission.

Their bodies found each other again, fitting together slowly, like two pieces of a mystery finally solved.

(Y/N) sighed a faint, trembling sound. Then a soft moan escaped her lips as Chrollo entered her, with deliberate, reverent slowness, almost painful in its tenderness.

She felt full. Complete. As though some ancient emptiness had finally been sealed shut.

Her body opened to him like a rare flower, patiently nurtured under the slow light of long-suppressed desire.

Every movement within her was like warm wind passing through soft petals, making them tremble; claiming a place within them.

(Y/N)’s moans became a gentle melody, carried on breaths that came in uneven waves.

Chrollo’s rhythm was steady, precise...almost choreographed. Each thrust was its own unspoken phrase, a language built in silence.

He never looked away. His eyes were locked on hers, and (Y/N) found herself lost in them, unable and unwilling to escape.

Everything was there in that gaze: the fire, the fragility, the ache of absence...And maybe, though she fought to deny it...a remnant of love.

Her hands framed his face, or sometimes slid down along his hips, matching his rhythm.

Beneath him, she welcomed every movement with instinctive fluidity, her legs bent gently around his waist; as if to hold him there, or never let him go.

Chrollo kept watching her, as though he wanted to carve this moment into memory or perhaps, into oblivion.

(Y/N) let herself drift, submerged by the burning wave rising within her with each motion, each breath.

Her legs tightened around him, her back arched, and her fingers found the nape of his neck before trailing down his back.

She clung to him, gently at first.

But as the pleasure surged like a silent storm, her nails dug into his skin, drawing invisible lines at first... then deeper.

Marks of passage.

Desire scars.

A moan escaped her, louder this time, broken as her body tensed beneath him.

Her climax swept over her like a wave, long and wrenching, sweet and violent all at once.

She clung to him with all her strength, as if his body were the only anchor in the storm.

Chrollo closed his eyes for a brief moment, feeling her tighten around him.

He barely slowed, but his breath grew ragged, his thrusts deeper, more urgent.

(Y/N) whispered his name one last time and that single word, that offering, pushed him over the edge.

He surrendered in silence, one charged with heat and the release of restraint.

His whole body tensed above her, then slowly unraveled, like a taut rope finally allowed to give.

For a long moment, they stayed there, forehead to forehead, breath to breath, still caught in the echo of everything they'd just shared.

The marks on his back, invisible to the world, burned softly like a truth he could no longer ignore.

Chrollo slowly shifted onto his side, taking (Y/N) with him.

She nestled against him without a word, her head resting on his chest, still damp with their shared heat.

Her arms wrapped around him instinctively, as if they already knew exactly where to belong.

The sheets slipped over their bare skin, barely covering their still-burning bodies.

Outside, the rain had stopped, leaving only a few hesitant drops tapping gently against the windows.

(Y/N)’s eyes were closed now, her breath calm and steady, one hand resting over Chrollo’s heart, where it still beat fast beneath her touch.

He slowly ran a hand down her back in a lingering caress.

He remained silent, his thoughts drifting far; but anchored here, in this fragile, fleeting present.

He looked at her with tenderness, with love... and with regret.

He didn’t want to leave.

He wanted to stay.With her. In her arms. In this place.

But he couldn’t.

So he pressed a kiss to her forehead and whispered a quiet “sorry” against her hair.

Morning light filtered softly through the curtains, gentle and hesitant, brushing (Y/N)’s skin still numb with sleep.

She slowly opened her eyes, her heart suspended somewhere between dreaming and waking.

Her arm reached out beside her, exactly where Chrollo had fallen asleep…

Empty. Cold.

The sheet had slipped down, crumpled, bearing the faint imprint of a body already vanishing.

She sat up slowly, her throat tight.

She knew.

Deep down, she had always known.

And then she saw it.

A small, folded piece of paper lay on the pillow where he had slept.

She reached out hesitantly, her heart pounding faster. Her fingers closed around it, unfolding the note with trembling care.

His handwriting. Precise. Elegant.

“Remember me when I am gone away,

Gone far away into the silent land;

Better by far you should forget and smile

Than that you should remember and be sad.”

She knew the poem.

And she knew exactly what he meant.

The words slipped slowly into her heart, and the first tears fell silently onto the crumpled paper.

Then came a sob...quiet, but devastating.

This time, he was gone.

Truly gone.

Just as he had come: silently, between two heartbeats.

A shadow that had passed through her light.

End

Author’s note: The poem is not mine, it's from Christina Rossetti called "Remember"

Tag list: @queenmimis @gurlhere4fluff @chaoticotaku

[nefertiti-wright]

A Story between the Librairian and the Thief

Chapter 19

It had been two days since Chrollo had come to see (Y/N). Two whole days during which she hadn’t been able to sleep or step foot in the bookshop again. Two days during which he had completely vanished from her life.

She slowly stirred her spoon in her coffee, absent mindedly. Her gaze drifted to the clock hanging above the door: opening time was approaching.

“You could’ve let me run the bookshop today, you know,” said a soft voice nearby.

Rio stood casually by one of the shelves, coffee in hand.

He looked at her with a tenderness he hadn’t known he was capable of.

“It’s all right. You’ve been taking care of the shop a lot lately, so it’s my turn,” the bookseller replied, her eyes rimmed with fatigue.

“Besides… I needed something else to think about.”

Rio nodded slowly, his gaze lingering on her a moment longer.

“If you need anything, I’m here,” he said, heading toward the back room.

She cast one last glance in his direction, then turned back to the shop window.

Outside the glass, life was slowly returning to normal. Shopkeepers were opening their stores one by one, parents strolled hand in hand with their children, and pigeons pecked at scraps along the sidewalk.

And yet… inside, she felt empty. Hollow. As if he had taken everything with him.

Her heart, her joy, her confidence… all gone in an instant.

A single tear slid silently down her cheek.

Her gaze drifted toward the street, blurred by the haze of her thoughts.

Then, slowly, a memory began to surface.

It was one evening at the apartment.

Chrollo had stayed a little longer than usual.

He was seated on the sofa, a book in hand, his expression calm.

One leg crossed over the other, he seemed completely absorbed in his reading; as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.

On the floor, Sunny bounced around happily, chasing a little plastic mouse (Y/N) had picked up at a discount store.

Suddenly, the cat made a spectacular jump... and knocked over one of the glass vases (Y/N) treasured. The vase shattered into a shower of sharp fragments.

Startled by the noise, (Y/N); who had just stepped out of the shower, rushed barefoot from the bathroom.

“What’s going on?” she asked as she entered the living room.

“(Y/N), don’t come any closer!” Chrollo warned, but it was already too late.

She cried out in pain. A shard of glass had embedded itself deep in the sole of her foot.

“Ouch!”

In an instant, Chrollo was on his feet. He slid one arm beneath her legs, the other behind her back, and lifted her effortlessly, as if she weighed nothing.

Without a word, his face taut with concentration, he carried her into the bathroom. He gently laid her down on the laundry basket, then quickly searched one of the shelves for the first-aid kit.

He crouched in front of her and looked at her with that rare gentleness he reserved only for her.

“This is going to hurt, so hang into my shoulder, okay?” he said, moving his hand toward her injured foot.

(Y/N) nodded slowly, then placed her hands on either side of his broad, solid shoulders.

When Chrollo gently pulled the shard of glass free, a sharp pain shot through her, and she let out a small cry, her fingers tightening around him.

He said nothing, fully focused, but his gaze remained fixed on her, silently attentive.

He took a small bandage from the kit and slowly, carefully wrapped it around (Y/N)’s foot.

“Your cat is definitely your number one enemy,” he said, looking up at her with a teasing smile.

She laughed softly as she watched him eye the bandage. Her gaze then shifted to her own hands, still resting on his shoulders, clutching the fabric of his shirt.

“Sorry... I must have crushed your shoulder,” she said, loosening her grip.

Chrollo raised an eyebrow, amused.

“I’ve had worse,” he replied simply.

“It’s definitely not your little hands that are going to dislocate my shoulder,” he added, looking her straight in the eyes with a teasing smile.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and laughed again, then gently placed her hands on either side of his face.

She watched him, close beside her. His gray eyes, flecked with chestnut highlights in the warm bathroom light. His soft black hair, held back by a headband that partially covered his forehead. She could even see her own reflection in the subtle gleam of his jade earrings.

Chrollo was handsome. Almost unreal.

And in this moment, he was hers. As she was his.It wasn’t possession. It was a silent recognition, an unspoken promise, one their bodies and silences understood better than words ever could.

He didn’t move. He let her look at him without looking away, as if he didn’t mind... or rather, as if he did the same in return.

He moved one hand closer and rested it on her thigh; a slow, almost hesitant gesture.

His other hand remained gently around her bandaged foot, as if to make sure she was still all right, still there, whole despite the pain.

(Y/N) couldn’t take her eyes off him.

Then, without thinking, without warning, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

A gentle kiss. Soft. Barely a touch.

But it was he who deepened it, responding with a quiet intensity.

The calm, deliberate way he moved contrasted with the fire simmering beneath the surface.

They pulled back slightly, their foreheads still resting against each other’s.

(Y/N) had never felt this way about anyone.

That deep vibration; a delicate blend of desire and tenderness, made her heart beat just a little too fast.

She wanted to feel it with him. And only with him.

“I want you,” she murmured, eyes closed, her breath brushing his lips.

Chrollo smiled; that rare, teasing smile she was starting to recognize.

“Even with your foot looking like battlefield wreckage?” he said, amused. They finally pulled back, their eyes locking in that suspended, in between moment.

And then, like a bubble bursting, they both laughed.

A soft, genuine laugh; as if the whole story of the broken vase had either ruined the romance or made it even more precious.It wasn’t perfect.

But it was real.

“(Y/N),” Chrollo said suddenly, his tone more serious now.

She looked up at him, attentive, almost holding her breath.

“I’m not the kind of man you should trust with something so important…” he said, his voice low, almost rough.

But (Y/N) understood. She didn’t need him to finish; she knew exactly what he meant, even in his silence.

She didn’t let him go any further.

Raising her hands, she gently cupped his face, guiding his gaze back to hers.

“That’s for me to decide,” she said, calm but unwavering.

Something ignited inside her; a sudden, visceral confidence, as if there were no turning back from this moment.

So she kissed him.

Not gently this time.

A burning kiss. Unrestrained.

A gesture of fire that said everything words never could.

Her hand slid up the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, as if to tell him; I want to be yours, completely, without walls.

Chrollo hesitated. Just for a second. A tiny flicker of doubt.

Then he kissed her back; with the same raw intensity.

And then...

Bzzzz...

A sudden vibration pulled her sharply out of the memory.

(Y/N) blinked, startled. Her phone had lit up.

A notification: "I'll come by this afternoon." Haley.

She inhaled softly, letting the memory fade like morning mist.

Just then, Rio emerged from the back room, his gaze brushing her face with a flicker of concern.

“Hey… you okay?” he asked, stopping in front of the counter.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Thanks,” she replied simply, forcing a faint smile.

He gave a small nod; not entirely convinced, before his usual, slightly mischievous grin returned, and he walked away.

“Well, let’s open that bookshop, yeah?” Rio said, pulling back slightly with a grin.

(Y/N) nodded, a soft smile on her lips, ready, finally to get back to work.

As he walked toward the door, Rio suddenly stopped and turned back to her, looking serious… or almost.

“Oh, and if he ever shows his face here again… I’m smashing it in. And don’t even think about stopping me.”

(Y/N) blinked at him, wide-eyed, caught somewhere between shock and amusement.

“Rio… he’s a criminal,” she said softly, almost like a warning.

“I don’t care,” he replied with a proud grin, like a kid delighted by his own recklessness.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, and then burst out laughing.

And that laugh, sincere and unguarded, sounded like a promise.

A promise that maybe, just maybe, not everything was lost. And deep down, she knew she owed him more than she let on.

Rio never really said what he was thinking. He wasn’t the type to give grand speeches or wear his heart on his sleeve. But his presence; quiet and constant was enough.

He had even canceled that trip he’d been planning, without a word. Just to stay.

And she wouldn’t forget that. The morning passed in a calm, almost soothing rhythm. Sunlight filtered through the windows, casting golden shapes across the bookshop’s old wooden floor.

(Y/N) sat behind the counter, a cup of tea in hand, while Rio sorted through a stack of freshly delivered books.

The bespectacled old gentleman, a loyal regular was already settled in his favorite corner, quietly leafing through a collection of poems he would never buy. But today, he had smiled at her when he walked in. And that meant something.

A young, timid customer asked for fantasy novel recommendations. (Y/N) offered her three, with a spark of renewed enthusiasm.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, she felt… at home.

Her fingers gently brushed the letter she had found tucked inside Majan’s relic, hidden between two ancient books. The paper was yellowed, its edges delicately worn, as if it had weathered the passage of time in silence.

And suddenly, her thoughts drifted.

To him.

To Chrollo.

Again. Her heart clenched.

Just for a second.

She could see him standing there again, right in that very spot in the bookshop, hands in his pockets, that enigmatic gaze fixed on her… as if he already knew her.

As if, somehow, he had chosen her.

She shook her head quickly, banishing the thoughts before slipping the letter into the drawer beneath the counter, where she wouldn’t have to see it again.

(Y/N) was finally having a good day; and no ghost, no matter how seductive or dangerous, was going to steal that from her.

The day passed swiftly, carried by the quiet ballet of customers and the comforting scent of turning pages.

As night fell, (Y/N) and Rio closed the bookshop together, sharing one last knowing smile before heading off in opposite directions.

It was already late.

Rain had begun to fall over Yorknew; thin and insistent, drumming softly against the windows of the buildings like a familiar melody.

(Y/N) walked slowly through the darkened streets, her umbrella trembling under the steady rhythm of the downpour. The streetlamps cast a golden glow that danced in the puddles, drawing flickering splinters across the cobblestones.

Each step echoed in the city's hush, softened by the gentle percussion of rain.

And yet… she didn’t feel alone.

There was something comforting about the rain.It washed everything away.

The noise.

The memories.

The fatigue.

The lies.

Arriving home, (Y/N) shed her soaked coat and gently stroked her cat, who greeted her with a lazy meow. The warmth of his fur brought an immediate sense of comfort.

Without a word, she made her way to the bathroom. Tonight, all she needed was to find herself again.

To refocus. To recharge. Out of sight, out of mind.

She turned on the water, letting steam fill the room, then slipped in slowly, like someone retreating into a cocoon.

The raindrops still tapped softly against the fogged window, but in the warm silence of the room, the sound was soothing.

After finishing her bath and eating a simple meal, (Y/N) made her way to her bedroom. She gently pulled back the comforter, like drawing aside a veil, before slipping under the sheets.

The silence of the room wrapped around her immediately.

Two days without real sleep. Two days of seeing his face behind closed eyelids, hearing his gentle words again, feeling his tender gestures like a ghostly warmth against her skin.

And now…There was nothing left.

Just emptiness. Silent. Absolute.

She closed her eyes slowly, letting the weight of exhaustion pull her under.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, she surrendered without resistance to the arms of Morpheus.

Later that night, the shrill ring of the doorbell shattered the silence of the apartment.

(Y/N) struggled to open her eyes, groaned, and glanced at the alarm clock.

2:03 a.m.

“Who the hell is that?” she muttered, voice thick with sleep.

Reluctantly, she rose, bare feet dragging over the cold wooden floor. Without thinking, without even glancing through the peephole she unlocked the door.

And when she opened it, she froze.

Standing there…

Chrollo.

Her heart clenched violently.

Her breath caught.

Her mind refused to believe it, but her eyes saw the face that familiar, enigmatic gaze, that glint she knew all too well.

A face she had tried to erase.

A love she had buried deep.

Until now...

Tag list: @queenmimis @gurlhere4fluff @chaoticotaku

[nefertiti-wright]

A Story between the Librairian and the Thief

Chapter 18

"It can't be..." she kept repeating.

Her eyes stayed glued to the screen. (Y/N) couldn't believe it; the man who had shared her life for the past few months... a criminal? A thief? A murderer?

Her stomach clenched painfully, each word on the screen like an invisible dagger sinking deeper into her gut. A wave of acid nausea rose in her throat.

Her hands were shaking so badly she could barely hold her phone steady. Her icy fingers felt foreign, detached from her will.

Her legs threatened to collapse beneath her weak, unsteady as a cold shiver raced up her spine. Her heart was pounding too fast, too hard, slamming against her chest as if it too were trying to escape.

She was cold. A cold that came from within, a cold that had nothing to do with the room’s temperature.

How could she have been so naive? Letting him into her life… into her heart…

She loathed herself for every smile, every secret she’d shared, every night spent believing his lies.

Suddenly, the tears came. Hot, burning tears streamed down her cheeks; uncontrollable, violent. Her whole body began to shake, wracked with painful, shuddering sobs.

She collapsed to the floor, unable to stand. Wrapping her arms around her stomach, as if trying to hold in the pain, she cried for everything she couldn’t understand, everything she had lost.

“Why… why me…” the bookseller sobbed, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, as if to shield herself from a world that had suddenly turned hostile.

Her voice was a broken whisper, drowned in tears. She rocked back and forth, slowly, instinctively; seeking a comfort no one could give.

The silence in the room was heavy almost suffocating. Only the muffled buzz of phone notifications broke it, absurd echoes in the midst of her anguish.

Sunny, her little ginger cat, padded over quietly. He rubbed against her, pressing his soft body to her trembling side with gentle insistence. A shy, fragile warmth crept toward her crumbling heart.

She lowered her tear-filled eyes to meet his. The only living being who had never lied to her was there silent, faithful.

She glanced up at the TV screen. Images of the Phantom Troupe continued to scroll relentlessly, reigniting the pain etched on every face.

Her gaze hardened. She couldn’t bear to see them anymore, couldn’t bear to see him there.

With a trembling hand, she reached for the remote and switched off the screen. Silence returned instantly, heavier than before, but at least free of their faces.

She pulled her legs close, clutching them like a fragile barrier between herself and the world. Her sobs grew louder, deeper, more heart-wrenching.

The pain refused to fade. It swelled, wrapping tightly around her chest, squeezing until she felt suffocated. Every memory, every word, every glance they had shared came crashing back, striking her right in the soul.

No matter how much she cried, no matter how silently she screamed, nothing eased the ache. The emptiness inside her screamed even louder.

(Y/N) hated herself.

Not just for believing him. Not just for letting him so deeply into her life. But because, deep down, she didn’t even know why she was hurting.

Was it the betrayal? The fact that he’d lied to her, hidden his true nature, played a part?

Or… was it because he was gone?

That thought cut deeper than anything else. Despite everything, the lies, the horrors, a part of her still mourned the man she thought she knew. The man she had loved.

The one she might still love.

And it was that uncertainty, that war inside her, that hurt the most.

As her sobs continued to shake her, the doorbell rang, breaking the heavy silence of the room.

She gasped.

"Rio? Is he here already?" she wondered, confused. She wasn’t expecting anyone else.

Her legs still trembling, she rose slowly and walked toward the door. With the sleeve of her sweater, she wiped away her tears, as if that could erase the traces of her pain.

She glanced through the peephole.

Her heart stopped.

Chrollo.

He was there, standing motionless on the other side of the door.

"No… it can’t be… he’s dead… he can’t be there…"

Her heart thundered in her chest, her hands turned to ice.

Her legs carried her backward; slowly, carefully. She stepped away without a sound, as if even breathing might give her away. Her breaths were shallow, uneven.

Then his voice came, muffled through the door, but unmistakable.

"I know you're there, (Y/N). Open up, please. We need to talk."

Every word rooted her to the spot.

(Y/N) froze. Her back gently bumped against the hallway wall. Her hands trembled. Her mind screamed.It was his voice. Calm. Gentle. Almost pleading. Just like before.

But it was impossible.

She was terrified, paralyzed between the urge to run and the desperate need to open the door, to understand… to believe.

"I’ve got to call someone…" she thought, panic tightening her chest as she turned from the door and hurried toward the living room.

But the moment she stepped across the threshold, she froze.

There, beside the sofa, stood a figure; tall, motionless, perfectly still.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Chrollo.

He was in her living room.

His face was expressionless, his eyes, once gentle and unreadable in her memories; now calm, dark, and chillingly cold. He wore a long black coat, its fur-trimmed edges framing his bare, muscular torso. His hair was neatly slicked back, revealing his forehead… where his headband used to be.

But this time, there was nothing to conceal the tattoo.

A dark cross, etched into his skin, glaring with an almost unreal intensity.

(Y/N) froze; unable to move, speak, or even breathe.

He was there. Really there.

“H-How did you get in?” the bookseller asked, her voice trembling as she faced him.

But she didn’t have time to finish.

Chrollo slowly closed the book he held in his hands; and in an instant, it vanished into thin air, as if it had never existed.

(Y/N)’s heart dropped.

She understood.

That was how he’d gotten in.

Through the book… or rather, through that power.

She had never wanted to believe it, but she wasn’t stupid. In an instant, she understood: Chrollo had been hiding far more than just his identity. More than lies.

He belonged to a world she only knew in fragments; shadows at the edge of understanding.

“I know what you’re thinking. You have questions… a lot of them,” Chrollo said, his voice calm, almost detached.

“And I can answer them if that’s what you want.”

Y/N could have asked anything. Why? Who are you, really?

But only one question passed her lips, fragile, desperate.

“How are you still alive?”

She cursed herself inwardly. There were so many other things to say… to scream.

But this was the one truth she needed to hear first.

Chrollo stared at her for a moment, expressionless, then answered simply,“Those bodies were fakes.”

“So… that was another lie,” (Y/N) shot back, an ironic smile on her lips but fury burning in her eyes.

She locked her gaze with his; hard, fiery. She couldn’t believe that this cold, impassive man standing before her was the same one who had cried in her arms that very morning.

She was in pain. A dull, sharp ache that squeezed her throat with every word.

“You must have had a lot of fun, huh? Playing me all those months. Must have been easy, right? Attracting a girl like me…” she said, her voice dry and almost trembling, not waiting for a reply.

She didn’t want an explanation. What she wanted… was to understand why she had believed him so deeply.

“I wasn’t playing,” Chrollo replied calmly, his voice steady and his gaze unwavering.

“Bullshit.” (Y/N)’s retort was sharp, bitter.

Tears welled up, burning, threatening to spill over. But she clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms. No. Not now. Not in front of him.

He wouldn’t see her break. Not after everything.

She lifted her chin, proud despite the pain tearing through her heart.

Chrollo didn’t move. He simply stood there, arms at his sides, as if his presence alone spoke volumes.

After a brief silence, he continued, his voice calm but with a barely noticeable hint of sincerity.

“What I shared with you… it wasn’t a game. It wasn’t planned.”

(Y/N) clenched her jaw, her gaze still sharp. She wanted to hate him with all her might. But those words; so simple, so calm...disarmed her.

“Nothing was planned, (Y/N). Not you. Not… this.” He lowered his eyes slightly.

“But it did happen. And I regret nothing.”

Her heart twisted once more. Emotions crashed against the cliffs of her mind; anger, sorrow, doubt... and that tiny spark still yearning to believe.

“You have no right to say that,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

“You’re trying to manipulate me again, but it’s not working!” she screamed, her voice shattered by rage and pain.

She took a step forward, eyes blazing, fists trembling.

“You hurt me. You lied to me. You looked me straight in the eye and told me you loved me… but it was all a lie!”

Her voice cracked, swallowed by a sob she could no longer hold back.

“You came back into my arms after stealing… after killing people. And I… I still believed in you.”

Tears flowed, despite herself. Uncontrollable. She hated them, just as she hated him, right now.

But deep down… what she hated even more was that she still loved him.

“You must’ve really thought I was a fool… with all my fairy-tale stories,” she spat out in a bitter, almost mocking tone, as tears silently streamed down her cheeks.

Chrollo took a step toward her; slowly, cautiously.

But she stepped back immediately, eyes wide, breathless.

“Stay away from me!” she screamed, her voice broken, filled with panic and pain.

This time, she could hold nothing back.

Sobs exploded from her; violent, uncontrollable, like a flood long held at bay. All the pain, betrayal, shame, and anger poured out at once, leaving her staggering under the weight of what she’d tried so hard to bury.

She had believed in love.

She had believed in him.

And now, she wasn’t sure of anything; not even herself.

Chrollo stood still, making no move to come closer. He just stood there, watching her; without anger, without defense. Just... silent.

He made no attempt to explain himself. Not a single word.

He watched her cry, facing alone the chaos he had left behind. As if he knew that nothing he could say would change how she felt. As if, at least for now, he accepted the weight of it all.

(Y/N) was still sobbing, her body shaken, broken. But she could feel his gaze on her; heavy, deep, almost painful too.

And despite all the rage, all the tears and fear… a part of her still wanted to understand.

But for now, she just wanted him to leave.

Silence hung between them a moment longer, broken only by (Y/N)’s sobs.

Then, in a low, almost hoarse voice, Chrollo finally spoke.

“I didn’t want you to see this. Not yet.”

(Y/N) slowly looked up at him, her eyes heavy with tears yet filled with disbelief.

He continued, still unmoving, his voice calm but carrying an unusual weight.

“What I am… what I did… I never wanted it to touch what we had.”

He paused, lowering his gaze, as if searching for the right words.

“The moments I spent with you… they made me human. A little. For the first time in a long time.”

His eyes met hers again, and for the first time, (Y/N) saw a crack in them; a break in the impassive mask.

“And that’s what scared me.”

(Y/N) looked at him wordlessly, tears still warm as they traced furrows in her flushed cheeks. Her heart pounded too hard, too fast. But she didn’t move.

Chrollo stepped forward slowly. This time, she didn’t flinch.

He raised his hand with unexpected gentleness, brushing away the tears she no longer had the strength to hide.

“I’m going away,” he murmured, his hand still resting lightly on her cheek.

“Away from you. Away from your normal life. You’ll never hear from me again.”

(Y/N) held his gaze, fierce, even as her throat tightened once more.

“What if I stop you? What if I call the police?”

Her voice was firm. But her eyes betrayed the turmoil within.

Chrollo looked at her as if seeing her for the first time; with that unsettling tenderness, sincere, almost sweet… and terribly dangerous.

“You won’t.”

There was no threat, no provocation. Just absolute certainty.

And (Y/N)… knew it too.

She wanted to stop him. To scream. To force him to stay and face what he’d broken inside her.

He had no right to leave so easily. Not after leaving her alone with the chaos inside her heart. Not after betraying her, manipulating her, using her...

She wanted him to pay. To understand what it felt like to be abandoned; without answers, without truth, without justice.

And yet…

She didn’t want him to go.

Not now.

Not like this.

Not while she could still feel his warm hand on her cheek.

Not while his gaze burned into her with heartrending tenderness.

(Y/N) closed her eyes for a moment, caught between anger and emptiness, between justice and loss.

Just as she was about to answer, her throat still tight, a sudden knock sounded at the door.

“(Y/N)! It’s me, open up!”

It was Rio. His urgent, worried voice echoed down the hallway.

(Y/N) froze, ripped from the moment. She turned her head toward the door, her heart pounding.

Just a second. Just one second.

But when she turned back to where Chrollo had stood… there was nothing.No trace of him. No shadow. As if he had never been there at all.

And yet, his absence filled the room with a deafening silence.

Author's note: Don't worry, I'm not ending it there! There are two chapters left.

Tag list : @queenmimis @gurlhere4fluff @chaoticotaku

[nefertiti-wright]

A Story between the Librairian and the Thief

Chapter 17

After the call, Chrollo left without a word. Just one last look, one last kiss.

He was colder. More distant.

“Maybe it’s his way of mourning,” (Y/N) thought.

She also wondered who this deceased friend could have been.

Chrollo had never spoken to her about his past relationships.

Was it a colleague? A childhood friend? Or someone he’d met recently, here in Yorknew?

(Y/N) recalled that fleeting glimpse of a different side of Chrollo, the moment he held her tight, sobbing like a child.

The memory shattered her heart.

She broke off her train of thought and went back to getting ready.

“I’ll send him a message when I get home,” she murmured to herself.

She made her way to the front door and closed it behind her.

Today was her day off, and Rio had offered to work at the bookshop before his travel.

Between Rio’s departure and Chrollo’s sorrow, she didn’t know which way to turn.

A gentle breeze caressed her skin as she walked toward the local market in Yorknew.

The sky had cleared since morning, and the sun's rays, soft and subtle, warmed the air. It wasn’t too hot or too cool, just the perfect temperature.

She had chosen a small white top with gathered sleeves, decorated with floral patterns, paired with a mid-length skirt that had a slit at the front. On her feet, she wore lightly wedged sandals.

A small bag hung from her shoulder, and she carried a basket in her hand.

She could feel a few eyes on her.It wasn’t something she particularly liked, but she walked on with quiet confidence.

“Pretty girls always attract stares,” Haley had once told her.

She gave a slight shake of her head, brushing off the glances, then made her way toward the greengrocer.

She browsed the stalls carefully, studying them closely before picking out her fruits and vegetables, like a child marveling at a toy aisle.

After paying the vendor, who smiled at her a little too insistently, she wandered off toward a small flea market.

There, they mostly sold old crockery, household items, and even books.

Her attention was caught by a book with a white cover, adorned with a somewhat picturesque image.

Presumption of Innocence that was the title.

A work blending philosophy and law, written in a tone that was both thoughtful and engaging.

“Chrollo might like this,” she thought, a small, melancholy smile touching her lips.

She picked it up gently, leafed through it for a moment, then decided to buy it without hesitation.

It was a small gesture, but she hoped he would sense the care behind the gift.

She also hoped the book might bring her a little comfort too.

She had never been good at consoling the grieving.

All she really knew how to do was to be there, in silence, a discreet but sincere presence.

As she continued her stroll, (Y/N) was drawn to a stall selling handmade clothes. She was about to head toward it when she suddenly bumped into someone, sending the book she'd just bought tumbling to the ground.

“Excuse me…” she murmured, her voice hesitant as she met a hard, cold gaze.

A woman stood before her, blond hair cut just above the shoulders, expression unreadable.

The woman bent to pick up the book.

As she reached out, her fingers brushed Y/N’s.

A fleeting touch.

Brief, but charged, like a current of something unspoken.

“Paku, are you okay? Is that the bastard with the chain?”

The voice came from behind, hoarse, aggressive.(Y/N) looked up to see a tall man approaching. Sharp eyes. Blond hair slicked back.

A hard face… and no eyebrows.

The woman, still frozen in place, finally straightened and handed the book back to (Y/N), her eyes never leaving her.

“Don’t worry, Phinks. It’s nothing,” she said, still watching her closely.

“I’m really sorry… I hope I didn’t hurt you,” (Y/N) said timidly, feeling a bit intimidated by the two standing before her.

“No… But next time, watch where you’re walking,” Pakunoda replied curtly, then turned on her heel, followed by Phinks.

(Y/N) blinked several times, surprised by the sharpness in her tone.

“I know I’m in the wrong, but there are better ways to talk to people…” she muttered under her breath, watching the two figures disappear into the crowd.

She let out a loud huff before continuing her walk.

After all, it wasn’t the first time she’d encountered rude people, she was used to it.

This woman wouldn’t ruin her day. Not today.

Across the market, Pakunoda and Phinks moved briskly through the aisles, eyes sharp as they scanned the crowd for their target.

“Tch, this market’s clueless… Do you really think the chain user hangs out here? The boss could’ve sent Nobunaga and Machi to do the dirty work,” Phinks grumbled, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

Pakunoda only half-listened.

Her mind was elsewhere.

Focused on that girl...(Y/N).

Or rather, on what she’d seen, what she’d felt when she came into contact with her.

Chrollo holding her hand.

Chrollo kissing her.

Chrollo smiling tenderly at her.

But above all... a deeper memory. More painful.

Chrollo, broken, crying in that girl’s arms.

Pakunoda couldn’t make sense of it. She was completely lost.

How could Chrollo have kept it from them, that he was seeing someone?

And a girl without Nen, no less.

She refused to believe he could let himself be distracted.

Chrollo wasn’t a fool, he would never let his feelings get in the way of a mission.

She knew that. She believed it.

And yet… this girl.

What unsettled her most wasn’t his possible weakness. It was the fact that he had shown her this side of himself.

A stranger to their world. A girl who didn’t even know who he really was.

And yet, she had seen what Pakunoda had longed to see since Sarasa’s death all those years ago.

She had seen his smiles, his gentleness…She had been the one he allowed to cry in his arms.

And that... that, deep down, was what broke her.

She and the others had failed where this stranger had succeeded.

Yet another part of her couldn’t truly blame the girl.

She had seen her gentle aura, her simple joy, that fragile spark of life… her humanity.

Perhaps it was that, deep inside, that had drawn Chrollo.

Something real. Something pure.

Something neither of them had known for a long time.

“Hey, Paku, you alright? You’ve been spacing out for a while,” Phinks asked, his tone gruff but tinged with concern.

Pakunoda blinked and turned her gaze away slightly.

“I was just thinking. Just thinking,” she replied, her voice neutral; almost distant.

Phinks studied her for a moment, as if debating whether to press further, then gave a shrug and resumed walking.

Despite her bond with the Troupe, she chose to keep it to herself.

Or maybe… talk to Chrollo first. If he hadn’t told them about this relationship, there had to be a reason.

And Pakunoda would respect that.

She didn’t like it.

But she respected Chrollo more than anyone.

And if he had made that choice, she wouldn’t go against it.

Later that night, (Y/N) had settled into her armchair, snuggled up beside her cat, Sunny, who purred softly at her side.

She wore a sweater far too big for her, soft, comforting, paired with simple jogging pants.

Wrapped in a small blanket, she savored the quiet warmth of the evening.

With a lazy flick of her hand, she turned on the TV and started a movie, not really caring what it was.

She just needed some calm.

A bit of distraction.

Something to fill the silence… and maybe, just maybe, the void left by Chrollo’s absence.

She had sent him a message earlier that evening.

But it still hadn’t been opened.

She hovered over her phone, tempted to send another.

Just a few words. Nothing invasive.

But she didn’t want to come off as pushy...or worse, intrusive.

Surely he needed time. Silence. Solitude, perhaps, to grieve in his own way.

So she pulled the blanket a little tighter around herself, turned down the volume of the film, and simply let time slip by.

She lay back gently on the sofa, the blanket snug around her.

The movie played quietly in the background, its flickering light dancing across the darkened room.

Sunny’s purring, warm and steady beside her, was like a quiet lullaby.

Her eyelids grew heavy and slowly closed, sleep washing over her, carried by the muffled sound of the TV and the comforting warmth of her little companion.

Muffled noises echoed in the distance, somewhere beyond the neighborhood.

But what truly jolted her awake was a faint tremor… followed by a distant, yet powerful, muffled explosion.

(Y/N) shot to her feet, heart pounding.

She swept her gaze around the room, still groggy with sleep.

“What was that?!”

For a moment, she tried to reason with herself. Maybe it was just kids setting off fireworks...Or more likely, a feud between members of the local mafia.

They weren’t exactly strangers to chaos around here.

But a part of her… a more lucid, instinctive part… knew there was nothing normal about that explosion.

There had been something too raw, too real in that tremor.

“That wasn’t normal…” she murmured, pulling herself off the sofa.

She made her way to the terrace, drawn by an unease she couldn’t quite explain.

In the distance, toward the center of Yorknew, several columns of smoke were rising into the night sky.

Her heart sank.

It was there…Where the Mafia headquarters stood.

She gasped, frozen in place, as other residents, drawn out by the noise, began to appear on their balconies.

Curious, worried faces turned toward the smoky horizon.

Suddenly, another explosion echoed through the air.

Less powerful than the first, but close enough to make her jump.

(Y/N) brought a hand to her mouth, her stomach twisting into knots.

She didn’t know exactly what was happening…But one thing was clear...something serious was going on.

The explosions had gradually died down, but chaos still reigned.

In the distance, sirens wailed, voices shouted, and a haze of rumors filled the air in a muffled cacophony.

(Y/N) made her way to the bathroom, her chest still tight, and ran cool water over her hands before splashing it on her face.

She hoped the simple act might dull the quiet fear creeping through her.

She knew this had something to do with the Mafia. That much was obvious.

And yet, despite herself, a thought began to settle in her mind; creeping in like heavy fog.

The Phantom Troupe.

Her mind latched into a single name.

Chrollo.

She hoped with all her heart that he was safe.

Him… and her friends.

For a long moment, she stood in the bathroom, staring blankly ahead, droplets of water still clinging to her cheeks.

Then, slowly, she stepped out and reached for her phone.

As she lifted the blanket, a series of buzzes vibrated beneath it.

Her phone trembled relentlessly in her hand.

Her phone vibrated relentlessly.

She picked it up and found several messages.

Haley: GIRL!!!! TURN ON THE TV !!!! YOU'VE GOT TO SEE THIS !!!!!

Rio: Y/N stay home. I’m coming over. Turn on the news. I told you this Chrollo guy was a scum.

A cold shiver ran through her. Without thinking, she grabbed the remote, turned on the TV, and switched to the news channel.

What she saw chilled her to the bone.

“The Phantom Troupe attacks Yorknew and is slaughtered by the Mafia.”

The red letters spread across the screen...harsh, unreal.

Blurred footage flashed by: burning alleys, fallen bodies, masked figures drenched in blood.

And among them… a sharper, almost frozen image.

Chrollo.

His face...impassive, lit by flames...filled the entire screen.

“Leader of the Phantom Troupe,” read the subtitle beneath it.

The remote slipped from her hand and clattered to the floor.

“This… can’t be…” she whispered, her legs trembling, eyes fixed on the screen.

A vast emptiness opened up inside her, swallowing everything in its path.

Author's note: Did I just make the reader find out on TV that her perfect romantic K-drama boyfriend is a terrorist? Yeah… kinda evil, I know 😈

Hope ur enjoying it!

Tag list : @queenmimis @gurlhere4fluff

[nefertiti-wright]

A Story between the Librairian and the Thief

Chapter 16

Warning: manga spoilers from the beginning of the chapter!

"After these three years I will kill many people"

"Sarasa definitely wouldn’t want that. So if I ever see Sarasa again someday, somewhere...I will beg for forgiveness. However...I will not forgive those killers. For as long as I live! I'll live the rest of my life as a villain...who will make the whole world tremble with fear. Those thugs won't come near Meteor City ever again. Once I'm done with this place..."

He turned to Uvogin, who seemed impressed by his determination.

"Uvo-san...will you join me...as the leader of our Troupe?"

Uvogin smiled, held up a finger, and made a promise.

"Nah. You're the leader, Chrollo. And with you as the head...I'll follow until I died".

When he opened his eyes, Chrollo noticed it was still dark. Rain was beating against the windows of the old building where he stood.

He had just awoken from a dream; one in which he made a promise, a promise born in his younger days.

Back then, Chrollo had been just a child with broken dreams. He remembered the moment Uvogin had named him leader.

For the first time in years, he felt afraid… Afraid that he hadn’t kept his promise to the end.

To the Spider, to Uvo, to Sarasa.

Sarasa… The name haunted him, stirring a pain deeper than he dared to admit.

Their dear friend, tragically, unforgivably gone.

He thought of Uvo. His friend had vanished into the night, taken by the chains.

He had sworn to break those chains, to shatter them, to honor the promise...He rose slowly, leaving the cold stone where he had dozed off.

His footsteps echoed faintly on the ruined floor, punctuated by the relentless pounding of the rain.

Chrollo barely slept anymore. Dreams, lately, had become too cruel. Too honest.

He moved toward the window. Behind the curtain of raindrops, the world looked frozen, as if suspended in the silence of eternal mourning.

A memory surfaced: Sarasa, running through the alleys of Meteor City, a radiant smile lighting up her face.

He had never seen that smile again.

He would never see it again.

He had sworn to protect those he loved. To give meaning to their lives, and to their losses.

But as the years passed, a question lingered: hadn’t he become exactly what he once vowed to fight?Just another monster.

A king without a kingdom.

A ruler of shadows.

His eyes darkened under the weight of these thoughts.

Chrollo had long since buried his humanity; and yet, somewhere deep within, a part of him still longed for something.

A chance to forget.

A chance to atone.

(Y/N)...

A bookseller without Nen, a stranger to his world, to his way of life.

There was nothing extraordinary about her. And yet, she had taken from him the one thing he thought long dead: his heart.

Chrollo loved her, more than he should have.

She was the tether to what was left of his humanity, or what remained of it.

He had even considered giving it all up, everything he had become.

For her.

The raindrops slid slowly down the window, like tears he could barely hold back.

He stared at his phone. The clock read 5:17 AM.

He walked toward the center of the room, where his group had gathered.

Without a word, he turned his back to them, eyes fixed on the door ahead.

“I need to go away for a while. If you hear from Uvo, call me.”

Without waiting for a response, he stepped through the door; calm, deliberate, unwavering, and left the building without looking back.

Outside, the rain was still falling, softer now, as if the sky, emptied of its sorrow, were finally beginning to calm.

Chrollo walked at a measured pace, hands in his pockets, coat collar turned up.

Each step echoed against the damp asphalt, the only sound in the stillness of early morning.

His thoughts, unbidden, drifted to her. (Y/N).

She had never asked for anything, and yet, she had become the fixed point in his chaos.

The anchor for a man who had long since become little more than a specter among his own kind.

She represented everything he no longer allowed himself: peace, gentleness, a future.

But there was also the Troupe.

The promise. The deaths.His shadow family, born of a shattered ideal.

His steps led him to an old, half-ruined building, long forgotten by everyone but him.

He pushed open the rusted door without hesitation.Inside, it was dark, dusty, a place frozen in time.

Chrollo stopped in the middle of the room, his eyes drawn to a corner shrouded beneath a dusty tarpaulin.

He stepped closer, lifted the fabric, and found what he was looking for: an old outfit, simple, black, familiar, and the headband that came with it.

He brushed his fingertips over the cloth.

A heavy silence settled over the room, solemn, almost sacred.He thought of Uvogin.

His brute strength. His thunderous laugh. His unshakable loyalty.

Of the way he fell, fearless, for the cause.

Of the blind trust he had placed in him.

Chrollo closed his eyes for a moment.

"Uvo-san..." he murmured, almost as a breath. "I haven’t forgotten."

He reached for the headband and slowly tied it around his head.

This simple act, insignificant as it might seem, carried the weight of mourning. And of a renewed promise.

Without a sound, he left the room, closing the door behind him, like the closing of a chapter in a long-forgotten memory.

Outside, the city sprawled in damp, semi-darkness.

Street lamps cast a pale light, distorted by the fine raindrops still hanging in the air.

Chrollo walked slowly, now holding an umbrella above him.

This simple gesture; so banal, so human, made him almost invisible in the urban landscape.

Just one man among many, blending into the greyness of a rainy morning.

His footsteps guided him to a familiar building, its weathered facade never having looked so welcoming.

He glanced up at the upper floors before slowly pushing open the front door.

He climbed the stairs, step by step, lacking the usual energy in his movements.

His body moved forward, but his mind seemed weighed down by a thousand hesitations.

Arriving at the door, he paused for a moment. The silence of the corridor hung heavy, almost oppressive.

Then he raised his hand and pressed the doorbell.

A quiet gasp escaped his lips.He hoped she was there.

As if some silent force had heard his unspoken wish, the door opened softly.

(Y/N) appeared in the doorway, her face still touched by the early light of dawn.

Her hair was slightly disheveled, and her face, free of makeup, held that fragile purity that sleep leaves behind.

She wore a dark blue kimono, adorned with delicate pink floral motifs that seemed to bloom in the soft half-light. At her feet, small slippers in muted tones completed the image.

Chrollo stared at her, unblinking.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still. The outside world faded away.

She was beautiful.

Chrollo had never cared much for appearances; he'd seen too many masks, too many facades.

But (Y/N) possessed a natural beauty; gentle and disarming, that captivated him every time.

A simple, sincere beauty, almost unreal in a world as corrupt as his own.

She wore nothing precious, made no effort to seduce.

And that was precisely what moved him.

The calm she exuded, that quiet light she carried without even knowing it.

He lowered his gaze slightly, almost ashamed of his own presence, of what he represented.

"I'm... sorry for coming so early," he finally said, his voice softer than usual.

"I wanted to see you before I left for work."

(Y/N) studied him for a moment, as if trying to read the unspoken words hidden in his silence. Then, with a gentle gesture, she stepped aside to let him in.

She immediately noticed his drawn features, the fatigue in his eyes... but also an unusual sadness.

A rare, almost unsettling vulnerability in him.

"Come on, I was making pancakes!" she said, her smile gentle despite the dark circles under her eyes.

Without waiting for an answer, she gently took his hand and led him into the living room.

The room was bathed in a soft, lukewarm light; simple and warm.

On the table, a cheerful mess of bowls, cereals, juice, fruits, and milk hinted at a morning that had started out ordinary.

From a corner of the carpet, Sunny glanced up at Chrollo, observing him with his usual feline detachment...then, unimpressed, returned to his snack without a care in the world.

Chrollo stood there for a moment, simply watching.

This slice of everyday life; so banal, so distant from his own; he took it in like a breath held too long, like a memory one fears to forget.

"Would you like coffee, tea, or something else?"

(Y/N) asked, already turning toward the kitchen.

But she froze mid-step.

Chrollo’s hand had closed gently around her wrist; not forceful, but firm enough to stop her.

She turned, surprised, and met his gaze.

His gray eyes, usually so unreadable seemed to waver.

There was something rare in them… a bare, unguarded fragility.

"I’d like a hug..." he murmured, his voice low, almost broken.

The world seemed to hold its breath.

(Y/N) stood still for a moment, caught between surprise and emotion.

Then, slowly, she placed her free hand against his chest, feeling his heart beating harder than he let on.

Without a word, she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him, holding him close.

Chrollo closed his eyes, letting his head rest gently on (Y/N)’s shoulder.

His breath slowed, calmed by the closeness he so rarely allowed himself.

The scent of her light soap; that subtle perfume with hints of flowers and cotton surrounded him.

He had never cared for smells. In his world, they were too often tied to grime, sweat, and blood.

But (Y/N)'s...There was something profoundly soothing about it.

Sweet. Warm. Like home.

(Y/N) wrapped her arms fully around his back, holding him close.

Her hands moved slowly over his shoulder blades, massaging gently; as if trying to ease a pain she couldn’t see but somehow felt.

She didn’t understand everything; not yet.

But it didn’t matter.

If he needed her, she would be there.

Without conditions. Without explanations.

Then, suddenly, she froze.

She felt something trickle against her skin, on her bare shoulder, just where the collar of her kimono parted slightly.

Drops… slow… warm…It wasn’t rain.

Chrollo… was crying.

His arms tightened around her, but his head stayed buried against her shoulder, as if he were ashamed to be seen like this.

(Y/N) felt her heart tighten.

She gently placed her hand against the back of his neck, hesitated for a moment... then whispered, barely audible,"Chrollo?" Her voice was a caress.

A timid appeal, as if her words alone might shatter him even more.

"My friend... is gone," he murmured, his voice muffled against her shoulder.

(Y/N) felt her throat tighten.

"Gone? Gone wh—"

But she stopped herself.

She understood.

This wasn’t a departure. It was a loss.

Her arms tightened around him, just a little more, as if to say I'm here, without needing words.

"Chrollo... I’m sorry," she whispered.

He didn’t answer.

He didn’t need to.

A soft silence settled over the apartment, between the walls, between their hearts.

It wasn’t heavy.

It was… peaceful.

Like a fragile refuge, built for two.

After a few minutes in her arms, Chrollo slowly pulled away, though his hands remained on her waist.

A light, yet steady touch, like a silent promise he wasn’t ready to break.

He met her gaze. His gray eyes were softer now, though still clouded with sorrow.

"I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to fall apart like that.

Especially not in front of you," he said with a faint, almost shy smile.

(Y/N) stared at him for a moment, not answering right away.

Then, with infinite tenderness, she raised her hand and placed it on his cheek.

Her fingers slid gently over his skin, brushing the dark, purplish circles under his eyes, as if she could erase his pain with this simple gesture.

"You look so tired..." she murmured, tenderly caressing his cheek.

Chrollo closed his eyes, surrendering to the sensation.

It was just a touch... but it was more than he had received in a long time.

A comfort. A human warmth he thought he no longer deserved.

Chrollo slowly opened his eyes again.

His gaze sought hers, locking with silent intensity.

Then, without a word, he leaned in.

His lips met (Y/N)'s with infinite slowness, as if asking permission without uttering it.

The kiss was gentle, almost shy at first.

But beneath that tenderness, there was a silent fire, a deep, unspoken need.

He kissed her like one kisses a precious memory.

As if this kiss were meant to hold everything he’d never said, everything he’d never known how to show.

As if it were the last time.

(Y/N) responded with the same tenderness, placing a hand on the back of his neck to pull him just a little closer.

Chrollo slowly pulled away from her lips, but not from the closeness.

He rested his forehead against hers, eyes closed, as if holding on just a little longer to this fragile moment.

"I’m sorry," he murmured.

(Y/N) shook her head gently, her fingers brushing against his arm.

"I can't pretend to understand what you're feeling... but I'm here. Even if you don’t want to talk, even if you prefer the silence."

He stepped back then, reluctantly. An almost imperceptible space grew between them.

"I need to make a phone call… then I have to go," he said softly, as if the words themselves weighed him down.

(Y/N) nodded slowly, not adding anything more.

He took his phone, cast one last glance in her direction, then disappeared into the next room.

Just before the door closed, she heard a single word slip from his lips, "Illumi..."

Then, silence fell over the apartment once more.

Chrollo knew.

He knew that until now, (Y/N) hadn’t grasped the deeper meaning of his forgiveness.

But tonight… tonight, she would understand.

For tonight would mark the end.

The end of a parenthesis.

The end of an illusion.

Tonight would be the last time he allowed himself to feel love.

The last time his heart would beat for anything other than loyalty, revenge, or purpose.

Tonight was his farewell... to being human.

He had closed the door to make a simple phone call, but in his mind, he had already shut another, a far heavier one.

The door that bound him to her.

To what he could have been.

To what he would never be again.

Tag list : @queenmimis @gurlhere4fluff

[nefertiti-wright]

A Story between the Librairian and the Thief

Chapter 15

The weather in Yorknew was unusually overcast. Though the sun still shone, the sky hung dark and heavy.

“They did say it might rain this evening,” thought (Y/N), gazing out the bookshop window.

She breathed softly before returning to her reading on the computer. Occasionally, she allowed herself the guilty pleasure of reading fanfiction online, an indulgence she kept to herself, and one that always lifted her spirits.

Summer was a good season for the bookshop. It was usually bustling, but today only a handful of customers wandered through the aisles. The place felt peaceful.

Only the quiet hum of the ventilation and Sunny’s gentle snoring broke the silence.

A tinkling bell rang, prompting her to look up from her screen to greet a potential customer.

She spotted her friend Rio, clad in sportswear, glistening with sweat but still wearing his trademark arrogant smile.

“Well, it’s dead in here today. I’m sure it’s because I wasn’t around,” he said with a smirk.

The young woman rolled her eyes and gave him a mocking smile.

“Well, it’s probably a good thing the shop’s empty, given how you smell,” she teased with a giggle, watching his smile fade into a vexed expression.

“You could’ve showered before coming, you know,” she added.

“Yeah, but I wanted to talk to you about something important before heading home,” he said, his tone shifting to something more serious.

(Y/N) was caught off guard by his expression. A faint feeling of unease stirred in her chest. She’d known Rio for years, and seeing him look this serious...this mature...was rare, and a little unsettling.

“Go ahead, I’m listening,” she said, closing her laptop to give him her full attention.

Rio closed his eyes for a moment, then let out a quiet breath before speaking.

"First of all, I wanted to apologize for how I acted about your relationship with Chrollo. I know I was being a paranoid jerk, but... I was worried about you. And I realize now that my attitude had turned toxic."

He paused, glancing at her to gauge her reaction.

Seeing that she was listening closely, he went on "I wanted to protect you, to make sure you didn’t get your heart broken. But if I’m being honest, I think a lot of it came from guilt... from rejecting you back then. It’s been eating at me, and I think I ended up sabotaging you...your future relationships, because of it."

He paused, letting a heavy silence settle over the bookshop.

(Y/N), still listening closely, looked at him, her eyes softer now.

“I didn’t think you’d ever say all that… so, thank you. It really means a lot,” she said with a gentle smile.

“I still don’t trust Chrollo,” he said seriously, “but… I trust you.”

“And that’s more than enough for me,” she replied.

Rio felt a weight lift from his shoulders.

Gideon had been right, it wasn’t his place to decide how (Y/N) should live her life. She was an adult, and he knew she was more than capable of handling things on her own.

“One more thing,” he added. “I’ll be traveling again for a while. Not sure when I’ll be back, but I’ll keep you posted. And just because I’m out of town doesn’t mean Chrollo gets to do whatever he wants. I’m keeping an eye on him, even from a distance. And if I ever find out he’s hurt you… I swear I’ll drag him back by the ears until he’s begging you for forgiveness.”

At that, Y/N burst out laughing.

“Okay, I’ll let him know.”

She got up from her seat and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around him in a quiet hug.

“Thank you, Rio. I’m going to miss you,” she said, resting her head against his chest.

“Tch, you say that like I’m vanishing for good,” he scoffed, though his tone was half-serious.

“Just make sure you’re not pregnant when I get back, alright?”

She gave him a light smack on the arm and looked up at him, laughing.

“Idiot. Don’t say stuff like that.”

(Y/N) felt unexpectedly moved.

She wasn’t sure why, this wasn’t the first time Rio had gone away. But this time felt different, tinged with a quiet tension and emotions left unspoken.

“Oh, and thank Gide too,” Rio added. “He’s the one who helped me see things clearly.”

She pulled back from the hug, eyes wide with surprise.

“Seriously? I knew Gideon was wise, but now I’m genuinely impressed,” she said with a grin.

"I’ll text him and tell him he’s turned you into a saint," she joked, a wry smile tugging at her lips, which made him raise an eyebrow.

"Hey, I’ve always been a saint!" he shot back, sneering.

"Once, a girl I was dating even called me The Chosen One."

She burst out laughing at his nonsense.

She couldn’t wait to see him again, and hoped that when he came back, he and Chrollo might finally find some common ground.

After Rio left, she found herself alone in the bookshop. The last customers had filtered out, leaving behind an emptiness and a heavy silence that seemed to hang in the air.

Rio had told her he’d be leaving in three days. Until then, she still hoped to spend some time with him. She also couldn’t help but hope to see Chrollo again. He had mentioned he’d been working late the past few days.

He’d promised her that once his job was done, they’d leave the city together for a week, as lovers.

She sighed, opening her computer again and resuming her reading.

“I hope he found my note,” she murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips.

She had slipped the note into one of Chrollo’s favorite books on purpose. It was a simple gesture, but meaningful, something personal, something only the two of them would understand.

She was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of the bell at the entrance. Looking up, she saw two little boys, accompanied by a teenager.

“Wow, it’s beautiful in here!” exclaimed one of the boys. He had spiky black hair with faint green highlights and large, innocent brown eyes. He wore a white tank top and green shorts.

The other little boy, standing beside him, scanned the bookshop with intense focus, as if he were searching for a hidden trap. He had messy white hair and striking electric blue eyes. His outfit consisted of a gray and black long-sleeved T-shirt and a pair of gray shorts.

"How can he not be sweating in that outfit?" thought (Y/N), a hint of disbelief in her mind.

She shook off her thoughts and walked over to them.

"Hello, welcome! How can I help you?"

All three boys turned toward her, but it was the one with the big brown eyes who stepped forward, his face lighting up with a wide smile.

"Hi ! We're looking for comics and manga, if you’ve got any!" he said cheerfully.

(Y/N) gave him a warm smile before replying,“Of course! We’ve got everything: comics, manga, fantasy books, even some rare and antiquarian editions.”

“Awesome! I’m Gon, by the way,” he said cheerfully, pointing to the white-haired boy beside him.

“And this is Killua.”

Killua gave a small nod, his sharp blue eyes still watchful.

“And that’s Kurapika,” Gon added, gesturing toward the taller teenager with medium-length blond hair, dressed in traditional clothes.

(Y/N) was a little surprised by how openly the boy introduced himself and his friends to a stranger.

Must be the innocence of youth, she thought, offering them a gentle smile.

Kurapika stepped forward, his expression calm, a polite smile on his lips.

"Hello."

"Hi, nice to meet you," (Y/N) replied.

"I’m (Y/N), and I own this bookshop."

"Are you new in town?" (Y/N) asked, gesturing for them to follow her toward the comics section.

Gon nodded eagerly.

"Yeah! We’re here for a few days. Doing some sightseeing, and Killua’s been desperate to find a manga he can’t get anywhere."

Killua, still a bit guarded, crossed his arms.

"I just want to see if they’ve got Dark Apocalypse. I heard it’s nearly impossible to find."

(Y/N) raised her eyebrows slightly, amused by how serious he sounded.

"You’d be surprised. I sometimes keep rare copies in a special section. I can check for you."

Kurapika, who had been quietly taking in the surroundings, spoke up gently.

"This is an impressive bookshop. We didn’t expect to find such a peaceful, welcoming place right in the center of town."

(Y/N) smiled, clearly touched.

"Thank you. It’s kind of my sanctuary… and now, it’s yours too, at least for as long as you’re in town."

She rummaged through the manga section for a moment, then pulled out a copy and handed it to Killua with a small, proud smile.

“Here! Just for you,” she said.Killua took the book carefully, his eyes widening with surprise and a flicker of childish excitement. He turned it over in his hands, then looked up at her with a faint blush.

“Thank you,” he murmured shyly.

(Y/N)’s smile softened. She could sense why he kept his guard up around strangers; after all, the world had become a dangerous place, especially for children.

Gon quickly hurried over to Killua, peeking over his shoulder with excitement.

“Wah, lucky you, Killua! That manga looks awesome!” he exclaimed with a wide grin.

Then he turned to (Y/N), clasping his hands behind his back, his expression a little shy.

“Um… do you have a manga with adventure, weird creatures, and…maybe a bit of humor too?”

(Y/N) let out a soft laugh at his oddly specific request, it sounded almost like he was ordering a meal at a restaurant.

“Of course! I think I’ve got just what you need.”

Kurapika stood slightly apart, quietly browsing the shelves in the fantasy section. He let out a soft sigh, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

It had been a long time since he’d allowed himself the simple pleasure of getting lost in a good book.

For years, his every thought had been consumed by the Phantom Troupe… and by the relentless discipline of Nen training.

Sometimes, he regretted no longer having moments of respite.

To forget, even for a single heartbeat; had become a distant, unreachable luxury.

But he knew that yearning was useless.

His clan had been wiped out, and now, he lived for one purpose alone: vengeance.

And tonight, he was finally going to take a step closer to it.

“Are you looking for anything in particular?”

A soft voice broke through his thoughts, anchoring him back in the quiet of the bookshop.

Kurapika turned toward the bookseller, a little startled, and slightly embarrassed.

“Sorry, I… no,” he stammered, realizing he’d been standing there, staring blankly at the shelves without really seeing them.

(Y/N) chuckled softly at his flustered state, then glanced at the nearby books. Without hesitation, she pulled one out and handed it to him.

“Here. I’ve got a feeling you’ll like this one,” she said with a warm, reassuring smile.

Kurapika, surprised, glanced down at the book now resting in his hand. He examined it with a calm curiosity, as if rediscovering the quiet thrill of interest, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

The title, Silver Knights, gleamed in delicate silver letters across the cover.

“It’s a mix of strategy and fantasy,” (Y/N) explained, her tone light.

“My boyfriend’s obsessed with it. I have a feeling you’ll enjoy it too.”

She gave him a knowing smile, one that seemed to read deeper than the moment let on.

Kurapika studied the cover for a moment, his fingers gently tracing the embossed title.

“Strategy and fantasy…” he murmured, his tone thoughtful. He looked up at (Y/N), a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“Sounds interesting. Your boyfriend clearly has good taste. Thanks.”

(Y/N)’s smile deepened, a warmth spreading through her at the rare flicker of genuine interest in his usually guarded eyes.

As Kurapika gently closed the book, a subtle glint in his eyes caught (Y/N)’s attention. She watched him quietly, noticing the intense, thoughtful look on his face. For a brief moment, something about his expression reminded her of Chrollo: a blend of nostalgia, suppressed anger, and that nearly imperceptible emptiness; like a part of him that could never be filled.

The comparison startled her. She had come to know both men so differently: Chrollo, with his unnerving calm, and Kurapika, who hid his emotions behind a mask of serenity. Yet, in their eyes, she could almost see the same thing: a profound sorrow they both kept buried deep inside.

(Y/N) glanced away slightly, sensing the fragility of the moment. Kurapika likely hadn’t noticed the subtle shift in her expression, but she couldn’t shake the comparison that had formed in her mind.

Unaware of the tension in the air, Kurapika continued in his usual calm tone.

"I’ll take it, thanks."

(Y/N) returned his smile, though a quiet heaviness settled within her, like she had brushed against a memory too painful to fully acknowledge.

Midnight.

The city had fallen silent under the weight of the night, the cool air settling over the streets like a shroud. But inside an abandoned building, ravaged by time and dampness, the atmosphere was thick with cold, almost suffocating in its stillness.

A heavy sense of failure lingered in the room, hanging like an invisible fog. Several figures stood in front of their leader, rigid and silent, the tension in the air palpable. The only light came from two flickering candles perched on a rough stone slab, their flames casting long, warped shadows across the cracked, mildew-stained walls. Pale moonlight filtered through the jagged holes in the collapsed ceiling, bathing the room in a ghostly, silver glow.

“Shit... I should’ve gone with him,” Shalnark muttered, his fists clenched tight. The usual smile that danced on his lips had vanished, replaced by a shadowed expression twisted with guilt and simmering anger.

“Stop beating yourself up, Shal. We’re talking about Uvo. He’ll come back.”

Nobunaga’s voice cracked against the cold air, harsher than he intended. But his eyes gave him away, filled with a worry he struggled to contain behind a clenched jaw and a tone forced into firmness.

Seated across from them, Chrollo remained locked in a stony silence, his gaze absorbed by the restless dance of the candle flames. His stillness was absolute, almost unnatural.

Uvogin, their most formidable force had gone alone to confront a chain user... and hadn’t come back.

Deep down, Chrollo knew. As powerful as Uvo was, brute strength meant little against a Conjurer or Manipulator who had planned every move. And this enemy had clearly prepared.

As a leader. As a friend. He had made his choice. He had to; for the Spider, for Uvo... and for the promise they’d made as children.

“If Uvogin isn’t back by dawn, we change the plan,” he declared, finally raising his eyes to meet his comrades.

His voice was calm. Razor-sharp.

There was no fear in his gaze. No doubt. Only a cold, unwavering clarity.

Chrollo knew he’d been naive, making promises to (Y/N) as if he were just an ordinary man. But he wasn’t. And if he had to give her up to stay true to his purpose. He would.

Without hesitation.

Tag list : @queenmimis @gurlhere4fluff

[nefertiti-wright]

A Story between the Librairian and the Thief

Chapter 14

September 1

Summer means sports and a healthy body. The gym was packed. Muscles bulged, concentration was at its peak. Beads of sweat slid slowly over warmed-up skin. Breathing came in steady bursts, driven by effort and determination.

It was a familiar scene for Rio. He watched the athletes come and go, their intense workouts unfolding before him, his gaze a mix of admiration and quiet competitiveness.

He worked the machine relentlessly, a gleam of inner rage in his eyes. But his mind was elsewhere, still haunted by the conversation he'd had the day before with (Y/N) and Haley. He couldn’t believe he’d said something so idiotic about Chrollo.

Chrollo.

The name alone made him shudder. There was something wrong with that man, he was sure of it. But he still couldn’t quite put his finger on what.

What frustrated him even more was that he hadn’t found anything suspicious about her. It was as if he were dealing with the perfect guy. Too perfect.

No social media, no criminal record, a stable job, and a perfectly decent salary. Even the way he spoke and behaved irritated Rio. Polite, measured, almost too gentlemanly.

But what truly set off Rio’s alarm were his eyes; cold, calculating; as if he were watching for the slightest slip-up, ready to bend him to his will.

And then there was that strange sensation. That nearly imperceptible shiver Rio felt every time Chrollo walked into the bookshop. Like a muted alarm; unseen, unheard, but impossible to ignore.

Rio wasn’t a fool. He could sense that Chrollo was hiding a darker side, something buried, something dangerous. And what worried him most was the thought that (Y/N) might fall victim to it… or worse, get dragged down with him.

A sharp hiss broke his focus.

“You’re still thinking about that guy, aren’t you?” said a familiar voice beside him.

He turned his head. It was Gideon, his loyal gym partner and one of the few people he truly trusted.

"Not at all."

Rio looked away and resumed his exercise, the lie hanging weakly in the air.

“Stop lying, man. You get that look every time you think about that Chrollo guy. If I didn’t know you better, I’d swear you had some personal vendetta against that machine.”

Gideon’s voice was calm, but his smirk gave away the teasing beneath the words.

He froze mid-rep, shooting his friend an irritated look. There was no point in lying, especially not to Gideon. They’d known each other for years. Gideon was the only person Rio could really confide in, the only one he could share his doubts about Chrollo with, without fear of judgment or ridicule.

“I just keep thinking that guy’s hiding something shady,” Rio admitted, his expression tight.

“We investigated, Rio. Found nothing. I even hacked into some private data to check out his profile. As far as we can tell, the guy’s just… ordinary,” Gideon said, his tone pragmatic.

Rio grunted in frustration. He was sure of it, Chrollo wasn’t just some average guy.

Or maybe... that’s just what he needed to believe.

“You know, I think you’re so set on finding something shady because you’re scared… and because you’re protective of (Y/N),” Gideon said, his tone suddenly serious.

“I don’t blame you. I know you see her like a little sister. But honestly? You’ve got to let her make her own choices. Stay out of her love life. (Y/N) isn’t that kid who used to trail after you anymore. She’s a young woman now. She needs to live her own experiences, even if that means making mistakes.”

He locked eyes with Rio, hoping the words would hit home.

Rio didn’t respond. Deep down, he knew Gideon was right. He was always right. Unlike him, Gideon was straightforward, uncomplicated, grounded, more mature. Rio knew he wasn’t trying to hurt him or prove a point. He just wanted to open his eyes. Nothing more.

He’d always acted like a watchdog when it came to Y/N: protective, loyal. He’d seen her grow into the woman she was today.

Of course, he knew she’d had a crush on him. And deep down, that broke his heart.

To him, she’d always been like a little sister. A precious friend.

He never wanted to hurt her, even though; sometimes, he did. Without meaning to. Just by being himself.

Maybe it was his protective instincts or the guilt of having hurt her, whether directly or not, that sometimes made him paranoid. He just wanted to see her happy. Safe.

And (Y/N) did seem happy with Chrollo.

He had to accept that. Learn to live with it…Even if, deep down, a part of him still doubted.

He sighed, then turned his green eyes toward Gideon.

“You know, man… you should really take up Buddhism.”

The comment was teasing, but full of affection.

Gideon let out a short laugh and gave him a friendly slap on the back.

“Yeah, maybe… but let’s be honest, you could use it more.”

They both laughed; one of those rare, genuine laughs that lifts the weight off your shoulders.

Despite their disagreements and doubts, they knew one thing for sure: they could count on each other. Always.

Further ahead, in an abandoned, dilapidated building on the outskirts of the city, the atmosphere was strange; thick with tension, yet strangely... calm. Almost friendly.

Two men were talking casually, their voices echoing off the cracked, crumbling walls.

One wore a kimono and wielded a katana with a disquieting ease, his movements fluid yet unsettling. The other was massive, with a bestial appearance, grinning widely as he listened.

“I can’t wait for tonight! Can’t you, Nobunaga?” Uvogin exclaimed, grinning like a child before a fight.

Nobunaga smirked, casually adjusting the blade of his katana against his shoulder.

“Of course I’m looking forward to it. It’s been too long since we had some real action!”

He shot Uvogin a knowing glance, his eyes glinting with something dangerous.

“Besides, the Boss said it would be entertaining.”

On the other side of the room, the other members watched them. Some with cold indifference, others with barely concealed excitement, almost as if they were waiting for the night with a quiet, restrained eagerness.

Perched atop a pile of rubble, Chrollo sat in the half-light, silent and still. His face was unreadable, his focus absorbed by the book in his hands.

He turned the pages with an almost ritualistic concentration.The noise of his comrades below seemed to barely reach him, as if chaos itself was just part of his routine.

As he turned the page, a small note scribbled in the margin caught his eye: I know you're working late tonight, but don't forget to eat. — (Y/N)

A faint smile tugged at his lips; brief, quickly masked by his usual impassive expression.

But inside, his heart beat a little faster. That small, sweet, delicate gesture from (Y/N)… it touched him more deeply than he cared to admit.

He couldn’t wait for the mission to be over.

He couldn’t wait to see her again.

To shut the world out and lose himself in that quiet little cocoon they’d built together; discreet but warm, a fragile intimacy he had slowly, but inevitably, grown used to over the past few months.

Downstairs, a tall blond man with no eyebrows murmured to the group,“Is it just me, or does the boss seem to be in a better mood than usual?”

“Maybe it’s the mission,” Feitan replied flatly, not even bothering to look up.

Shalnark, who had caught the comment, smirked mischievously.

“Or maybe he’s got a girlfriend here in Yorknew…” he said in a teasing tone, letting the words hang in the air.

“The boss? A girlfriend? What kind of tasteless joke is that?!” Phinks growled, clearly annoyed.

“And what next? A civilian with no Nen?”

Shalnark burst out laughing at Phinks’s indignant reaction, earning a dark glare from Feitan.

“What the hell are you laughing at, idiot?” Phinks snapped, both irritated and confused.

Unbothered, Shalnark shrugged with a sly grin.

“Sometimes I wonder if you’ve got a hidden Nen ability… like materializing pure bad faith.”

“Huh?!” Phinks barked, arms now firmly crossed.

“You really do spend way too much time on your damn screens…”

A little further back, leaning against a wall, a slender woman in a suit watched the scene in silence. Her blonde hair framed a sharp, focused face.

Pakunoda had heard everything. But she didn’t need her ability to sense it, something had changed in Chrollo.

She knew him better than most.Behind that cold, unreadable mask, he seemed… different. More human.And more than anything, he seemed happy. Quietly, cautiously...fragile, even; but undeniably happy.

Her eyes drifted upward, discreetly, to where Chrollo sat. She observed him calmly, yet with deliberate focus.

At her side, Machi followed her gaze, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

“Do you think what Shalnark said is true?” she asked softly, almost as if afraid someone might overhear.

Pakunoda didn’t respond right away. Her eyes stayed fixed on Chrollo, still lost in his book.

Then, in a low murmur, she said “I don’t know if it’s true…But something has changed in him. He’s different. Calmer. More… peaceful.”

Machi didn’t reply right away, but a flicker of surprise passed briefly over her usually impassive face.

“As long as the boss doesn’t put us at risk…” she muttered, her voice cold but with a faint edge of tension that didn’t go unnoticed.

She turned her gaze away, distant.

She probably didn’t care if Chrollo had someone in his life.

And yet… a part of her saw it as a flaw. A vulnerability. Something that could be exploited. Against him.

Against them.

Pakunoda turned her head slightly toward Machi, saying nothing.Then her gaze drifted back to Chrollo, calm and steady.

She understood what Machi meant. And she shared her concern.

They didn’t have the luxury of attachments.

Not in their world. The Spider came first. Before feelings. Before bonds.

Still perched high above on the concrete block, Chrollo appeared as impassive as ever.

But beneath the surface, a quiet frustration was beginning to rise.

He could hear everything. The laughter. The whispers. The doubts.

This fascination for his private life irritated him, not because he had something to hide, but because he had never asked for anyone’s approval.

He had known the Troupe since childhood. He considered them his family. Part of him loved them.

But another part understood that their bond rested on one thing: the survival of the Spider.

And that would always remain his priority.

No matter his feelings.

No matter (Y/N).

Author's note: No reader in this chapter, I wanted to focus on my OC Rio's POV.

Honestly, I originally intended for him to be a kind of love rival for Chrollo, but then I thought… nah! Too cliché. So instead, I decided to have Rio act more like a really protective friend.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Tag list : @queenmimis @gurlhere4fluff

[nefertiti-wright]

A Story between a Librairian and a Thief

Chapter 13

August 31st

Summer in Yorknew was hot, dry, and stifling. The humidity clung to the skin, turning every movement into an effort. The trees, once cloaked in snow just a few months prior, now flaunted thick green foliage, proof enough that the city had indeed slipped into a new season.

The park where (Y/N) used to hang out was bustling with life. Tourists posed for photos near the fountain statue, children shrieked with laughter as they played in the sandboxes, and athletes trained relentlessly, counting their reps and dripping with sweat under the oppressive heat.

Yorknew had become a bustling, vibrant city under the relentless sun. As she crossed the streets, she took in the colorful signs advertising cold drinks; mostly ignored by the crowds, the noisy cars hurtling past like rockets, and the passers-by walking briskly, unfazed by the sweltering heat.

But despite all the commotion, she felt happier than ever; as if the city's rhythm had breathed new energy into her life.

Months had passed since Chrollo’s arrival in Yorknew and his encounter with (Y/N), the bookseller. They had taken their time, slowly and sincerely getting to know one another, moving forward with caution, as if afraid to disturb the delicate thread forming between them.

Yet despite their shared inexperience, they had found a quiet balance. Chrollo knew how to put her at ease, offering a sense of safety without ever imposing, without ever rushing.

They didn’t just take their time, they moved with an intimate lightness, like a feather drifting on the breeze.

They had learned to respect each other’s space while remaining quietly present. Like two pieces of a puzzle, they fit together not with force, but with gentle certainty, slowly finding where they belonged.

She was jolted from her thoughts as she arrived outside the café where they had agreed to meet. Haley had invited her for a friendly catch-up; a moment to unwind, chat, and share the latest gossip with the group.

"Honestly, I thought I was going to have to order for you! I told you I’d come pick you up, but no! Mademoiselle prefers to walk to reconnect with nature!" exclaimed Haley, flopping back into her chair like an actress in a comedy-drama.

The bookseller rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips, and let out a soft laugh.

"I just felt like walking today. And you know what? It actually feels good," she said, settling into the seat across from her friend.

Haley raised an eyebrow, feigning scandal.

"Good? At thirty degrees? With this humidity? You're crazier than I thought."

She reached for her iced drink and took a long, theatrical sip.

"I'm reconnecting with air conditioning and iced coffee, thank you very much."

(Y/N) chuckled softly.

"Not all of us have your urban survival elegance."

Haley tapped the table with her fingertips, eyes gleaming with amusement.

"It’s not about elegance. It’s strategy. And I’ll bet you came here without a hat. Or a fan. Completely oblivious."

(Y/N) raised her hands in mock surrender.

"Guilty."

They laughed softly before diving back into their conversation. Despite the heat, Haley radiated with the energy of an erupting volcano. She punctuated her stories with grand gestures and exaggerated imitations, especially of a colleague with a laugh that could only be described as... relentless.

(Y/N) listened intently, doing her best to stifle her laughter, which rang out through the café.

Heat seeped through her, pressing against the light fabric of the dress she had chosen that morning. She wore a sleeveless dress, open-toed shoes, and sunglasses carelessly perched atop her head.

She fanned herself gently with her hand, then leaned forward to sip her cold drink, as if she had just discovered the very concept of drinking for the first time.

Haley continued to debate her colleagues, her words flowing easily, before suddenly pausing and growing serious.

"That reminds me... have you heard of the Phantom Troupe?" she asked, her gaze shifting to (Y/N).

Intrigued, (Y/N) raised an eyebrow.

"No, why?" she asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

Haley stared at her, a slightly mysterious smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"They're a group of thieves, but not the simple one, if you catch my drift. The kind that would loot, kill, and terrorize an entire neighborhood. At least, that's what a colleague of mine says, someone who’s got ties with a few Mafia types," she added, rolling her eyes, as if this kind of information didn’t even faze her anymore.

"They’ll be coming for the Yorknew auction."

She paused for a moment, taking a slow sip of her drink as she studied (Y/N), her expression growing more serious.

"If anything ever happens to me..."

She stopped, letting the silence hang in the air, making (Y/N) flinch.

"I'll leave you my car," she finished, bursting into laughter.

"Damn it, Haley! Don’t even joke about that!" (Y/N) retorted, tapping her on the shoulder.

"Ouch! I’m kidding, I’m kidding... But seriously, nothing’s going to happen to me. They're after the Mafia auction, not mine," Haley said, rubbing her arm and pouting with mock indignation.

The auctions Haley took part in were perfectly legal, a far cry from the underground sales run by the Mafia.

(Y/N) knew that. She had no reason to worry.And yet...She couldn't shake the thought of that group of thieves she’d never heard of before: the Phantom Troupe.

"Well then, how about something more cheerful?" Haley chimed, flashing a broad smile as she straightened in her chair, her mischievous gaze locking onto her friend's.

"So... how’s it going? Chrollo? Any progress?" she added teasingly, one eyebrow arched like she’d just played the ace of conversation.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, a smirk tugging at her lips.

"Do you want the full report or the censored version?" she asked, sipping her drink with feigned nonchalance.

Haley leaned in, eyes sparkling.

"Oh, don’t tempt me. I’ve got the whole afternoon."

"It’s coming along… slowly," (Y/N) admitted with a shrug. "But not in a bad way. He’s… thoughtful. Calm. Too calm, sometimes."

Haley burst out laughing, tapping the table.

"Like a romantic monk?"

(Y/N) laughed with her.

"Something like that. But… I like it. It’s different. And it makes me feel... safe. Truly."

Haley's laughter faded into a gentle smile. She rested her chin in her hand, her gaze suddenly softened.

"You talk about him like he really matters."

(Y/N) lowered her eyes, as if her thoughts had spoken before her voice could.

"I think he does."

Her fingertip traced slow circles on the condensation of her cold cup, a quiet rhythm to match her words.

"He has this... silence that’s never empty. And even when he says so little, I feel like he sees me. Not just what I show... but what’s underneath."

Haley smiled, softer this time.

"You sound like something out of a novel, you know."

(Y/N) arched an eyebrow, a spark of amusement in her eyes.

"Maybe I’m writing one without realizing it."

Before Haley could reply, the café bell rang out sharply. A group of boys walked in amid light chatter and the clatter of chairs and, of course, at the center of it all: Rio.

"Well, well… look who we have here," he declared with his signature arrogant grin, hands in his pockets like he was making a red-carpet entrance.

At his arrival, (Y/N) couldn’t help but chuckle softly, while Haley rolled her eyes, already visibly exasperated.

"Hi, Rio. Long time no see," she said with a falsely bright tone, not a drop of warmth in her voice.

"I knew you missed me, dollface," he shot back, sarcasm oozing from every word.

"Don’t call me that," Haley growled, jaw tight.

"Whatever you say, dollface," Rio replied, flashing that infuriating grin.

"You son of a—"

"Rio," (Y/N) cut in calmly, her voice steady but firm. "Maybe you should head back to your friends and let us girls enjoy our chat in peace."

Rio glanced briefly at his group, deep in a lively discussion, before turning back to the two women with a careless shrug.

"Nah, I’ll sit with you for a bit. Being surrounded by pretty girls is way better than listening to those idiots talk about soccer," he said, pulling out a chair with confidence, a smug grin plastered on his face.

Haley rolled her eyes. (Y/N) sighed softly, already resigned to the inevitable.

"So, what were you two gossipers talking about?" Rio asked, settling into a chair next to Y/N with the ease of someone who thought he was at home.

Haley flashed a wry smile, already looking forward to the chance to get under his skin.

"Well, we were talking about how Chrollo makes (Y/N) happy," she said, her tone falsely innocent, as if she were commenting on the weather.

Rio froze, his smile faltering slightly. Slowly, he turned his head toward (Y/N).

"Wait, Chrollo... you mean the guy who reads too much and never smiles?" he asked, his face twisting into an exaggerated grimace.

(Y/N) let out a small laugh.

"He reads a lot, yes. And he smiles sometimes. Just... not at you."

Rio rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed by (Y/N)'s response.

"He only smiles at me to threaten me, mostly. Seriously, am I the only one who thinks this guy's weird? Why do you women always trust the wrong guy?" he exclaimed, frustration and confusion lacing his words.

Haley didn’t miss a beat, her devilish grin widening.

"I hope you speak for your exes too?" she shot back, her tone sharp with mischief.

Rio's eyes widened, caught off guard by his own words. He lowered his gaze, discomfort creeping in, but his pride kept him from replying immediately.

"Ah, very funny," he muttered, trying to regain his footing. Then, turning to (Y/N), his smile faded into something more serious.

"You should be careful with him."

(Y/N) held his gaze for a long moment before answering, her voice calm but resolute.

"Rio, we've had this conversation more than once. Chrollo is a good man."

She paused, her tone sharpening ever so slightly.

"Has he ever done anything to you? Made you feel uneasy... aside from his barbs?"

Her eyes locked on his, unwavering, as if daring him to come up with something real.

"Yes, he threatened me… with black magic," Rio declared, his voice a mix of sincerity and embarrassed defiance.

A heavy silence fell, hanging in the air like a held breath.

Then Haley exploded with laughter, doubled over in her chair, tears brimming in her eyes.

"That is...oh my God...that is the best thing I've heard all year!" she gasped.

"Stop laughing! I'm serious!" Rio protested, blushing to the tips of his ears. "The first time we talked...and at the bookstore the other day...I felt it! There’s something dark about him, I swear!"

(Y/N), caught somewhere between amusement and exasperation, rolled her eyes.

"You really need to stop partying with that much alcohol, Rio."

"Oh great, not you too," he grumbled, crossing his arms like a sulky child, though the offense on his face was far from convincing.

Haley finally caught her breath, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

"I'm telling everyone about this. 'Rio, Victim of Black Magic at the Bookstore' honestly, it sounds like a shitty movie."

(Y/N) let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head at the absurdity of it all.

Somewhere, in the ruins of an abandoned building with shattered windows and crumbling walls, a group of figures waited in eerie silence.

The air hung heavy, almost tangible, as if the atmosphere itself were holding its breath.

Some of them leaned against decaying walls or perched on broken concrete slabs, their restlessness barely contained; a kind of feverish impatience flickering in their eyes.

A tall, broad-shouldered man, more beast than human in appearance growled in annoyance. Dressed like a barbarian torn from another era, he paced impatiently.

"The sun's about to set and Hisoka still hasn't shown! Next time I see him, I'm wringing his neck."

Not far off, a young blond man with a boyish smile raised both hands in a calming gesture, unbothered by the rising tension.

"Come on, Uvo. You know how he is. He’ll show up...eventually."

"Oh dear… I see we're talking about me."

The voice slithered out of the shadows; soft, drawling, laced with venomous amusement. Two bright eyes glinted in the gloom, their gaze both enticing and dangerously erratic.

Hisoka emerged with deliberate slowness, as if savoring the stir he caused. His smile was wide, feline, almost too perfect, and his nonchalant posture clashed deliciously with the intensity in his eyes.

"Hisoka!" Uvogin roared, springing to his feet, his fists already clenched in fury.

"You think it's funny making people wait!?"

Hisoka shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, moving closer with slow, deliberate steps, the mocking glint never leaving his eyes.

"Everyone’s here, boss!" Shalnark chimed in cheerfully, his gaze lifting toward the upper floor of the crumbling building.

A respectful silence rippled through the group as a silhouette emerged from the shadows. It moved without a sound, yet its presence was undeniable calm, precise, almost ceremonial.

Chrollo Lucilfer stepped into the light, clad in a dark coat, hands tucked into his pockets, his gaze serene yet razor-sharp.

"Good."

His voice was soft, nearly tender, but each word cut through the air like a blade.

"We’ll take the treasures from the Underground Auctions."

Shalnark, still wearing his eternal smile, raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Which ones?"

A little further away, Machi leaned against a wall, arms crossed, watching Chrollo with a piercing gaze. Her pink hair was hastily tied back, and though she seemed detached, her attention never wavered.

"Ancient books, maybe. The boss loves books, doesn’t he?" she said in a dry, almost mocking tone.

A smirk curled Feitan’s lips as he crouched on a chunk of concrete, draped in his long black coat. His face remained half-hidden, only two dark, gleaming eyes piercing through the shadows.

"No. Just games, I bet."

Chrollo walked slowly to the building’s raised ledge, hands still tucked into his pockets. His gaze, sharp as steel at first, softened just a touch, the faint shadow of an almost amused smile playing on his lips.

"Everything."

He let the word hang in the air, heavy with intent.

"We’ll take everything."

The atmosphere shifted in an instant. The once heavy, stagnant air now crackled with a new, tangible energy. Tension hung thick, like a rope stretched to its limit; yet beneath it surged a raw, electric thrill that seemed to dance along the cracked walls of the abandoned building.

"GIVE US YOUR ORDERS, BOSS! HERE! NOW!"

Uvogin erupted, his voice ragged with anticipation, trembling at the edge of violence.

Chrollo, ever composed, merely watched them, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. His icy gaze held a relentless coldness, but behind it shimmered a flicker of amusement.

They had waited years for this mission. Wiping out the Mafia. Making enemies.It wasn’t a risk: it was a luxury. One they were finally ready to indulge in, like a long-promised sin coming due.

In the corner of his mind, a face flickered.

(Y/N).

He cast the thought aside, replacing it with silence. A void. A cold, unwavering resolve.

For her, he might have wished to become a better man.

But it was too late.

He was already a murderer. A fallen soul.

A spider.

A spider crouched in its web, waiting for prey.

"I give you permission to kill them all," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper; yet each word struck with the weight of final judgment.

He let the silence linger, then swept his gaze across the group, sharp as a blade.

"Kill every person who interferes".

Tag list : @queenmimis @gurlhere4fluff

[nefertiti-wright]

A Story between the Librairian and the Thief

Chapter 12

(Y/N) was in a good mood. Chrollo wasn’t working, and she had taken the day off, which meant they could spend the day together.

Since they had started their relationship, they had spent almost all their free time exploring each other’s likes and dislikes, a gentle, unpredictable adventure, just like them.

Chrollo was everything she had ever dreamed of in a man. Handsome, intelligent, attentive, respectful. Sometimes, she found herself wondering how someone like him could settle for dating a girl as ordinary as her.

She shook her head, brushing away these parasitic thoughts. Haley kept telling her that she was far more valuable than she realized, that she was brilliant, unique, and deserved to be loved fully.

She looked out of the window of her house, watching the snow slowly melt under the golden glow of the sun. Inside, the peaceful warmth contrasted with the silent cold outside, like a protective cocoon.

She had invited Chrollo to spend the day with her. He didn’t show it much, but she had noticed how much he appreciated the calm of her apartment. The soft silence, the books piled here and there, the subdued lighting, everything seemed to soothe him, almost in spite of himself.

She saw her ginger cat, Sunny, approaching the door, meowing. Chrollo was sure to be back soon. She took one last glance in the mirror to check her appearance.

The doorbell rang. She walked to the door and opened it with a quick motion, a big smile on her face.

"Hello," he greeted her with a discreet smile.

"Hi," she replied, excitement clearly showing onher face.

Chrollo stepped inside, calmly removing his coat, which she took from him to hang on the coat rack near the entrance. He looked around the warm interior of the apartment for a moment, his eyes catching Sunny as she came toward him. Chrollo leaned down to stroke her, triggering a satisfied purr.

"He heard you coming," (Y/N) laughed.

"I think he likes you," she added with a small smile, watching the scene.

Chrollo laughed softly before straightening up and moving toward his girlfriend. He slipped his arms around her waist and kissed her tenderly in greeting.

"So, what's on the agenda?" he asked, a playful twinkle in his voice.

(Y/N) laughed at his enthusiasm before wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Well... how about The Scarlet Lovers? I'd love to watch it with you... and we can swap opinions afterwards," she offered playfully.

"Haven't you already seen this movie a few times?" Chrollo asked, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Yes, I have! But watching it with you would be even better than all the times I've seen it. And besides... I made popcorn," she added proudly.

Chrollo looked at her blankly for a moment, his smile softening slightly. He gently brushed her cheek with his fingertips, as if to emphasize the sincerity of his words.

"You know... you make everything more interesting, even a movie you know by heart," he murmured.

Then, almost teasingly, he added in a breath,

"And popcorn is a very convincing argument."

She blushed at his words before pulling away. Clearing her throat in an attempt to calm her nerves, she drew a soft laugh from Chrollo.

Since they'd been together, she'd discovered a new side of him. He liked teasing her, throwing her off balance and every time she tried to keep her composure, he effortlessly managed to unravel it.

"Well... I’ll... I’ll get the popcorn. Make yourself comfortable, won’t you?" she stammered, turning away, clearly still flustered.

Chrollo watched her walk away toward the kitchen, an amused smile playing on his lips. He said nothing, but his eyes followed her every move with quiet, almost tender attention.

He settled carefully onto the sofa, his gaze drifting around the room. The ambience, the soft lighting, the sweet smell beginning to waft in from the kitchen... it all painted a picture he’d never imagined sharing and yet, he felt strangely at home here.

He murmured to himself, barely audible,

"It’s amazing how precious you make the simple things..."

(Y/N) appeared in the living room, a tray of popcorn in her hands.

"Here we go!" she announced cheerfully, setting it down on the table, clearly proud of her preparation.

She was about to start the film when her phone rang, briefly shattering the hush of the room. The sudden sound made her jump slightly.

Chrollo looked up at her, silent, as she grabbed her phone in one swift motion, a faint crease forming between her brows.

She let out a quiet sigh before answering the call.

"Yes, Rio? What’s wrong? Is everything okay at the bookshop?" she asked, bringing the phone to her ear.

At the mention of his first name, Chrollo froze. A slight frown crept across his forehead as he watched the scene in silence, his gaze darkening almost imperceptibly.

"What?! You can’t be serious!" the young bookseller exclaimed, her frustration clear in her voice.

A tense silence followed, broken only by Rio’s distant voice crackling through the phone.

"Okay… fine. I’ll be right there," she replied more curtly, before hanging up.

She stood still for a moment, the phone still in her hand, then looked up at Chrollo with an apologetic expression.

"Is everything all right?" Chrollo asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

She sighed, clearly upset.

"Rio lost the spare key to the bookshop… and I’ve got to go help him open up."

She ran a hand through her hair, glancing apologetically at the still-steaming tray of popcorn.

"I’m sorry," she murmured.

Chrollo remained silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on her with calm attention. Then he let out a quiet sigh, as if to release any unnecessary tension.

"I understand," he said softly.

"If Rio really needs you, then you don’t have much of a choice.

"He stood up slowly, a faint smile forming on his lips. He didn’t want to add to her stress but he couldn’t help wishing there had been no interruptions to their moment.

"Be careful," he added with unexpected gentleness. "I’ll be waiting here."

(Y/N) gave him a small smile before stepping into his arms, hugging him briefly.

"I promise I’ll be quick," she said, her voice soft and reassuring.

She then pulled away, heading to the coat rack, where she grabbed her coat and quickly slipped on her boots.

Once she was gone, Chrollo let out a heavy sigh of irritation. He’d known Rio would be a problem, but he hadn’t expected him to become such a persistent parasite.

He had been right to ask Shalnark to build a complete identity for him. And Shalnark had uncovered something troubling: someone had managed to break into a private server and had been digging for information about him.

“Either he’s very good with computers, or he’s got a friend doing the digging for him,” Shalnark had said, a flicker of concern in his voice.

He ran a hand through his hair, his gaze hardening at the thought of a stranger showing such interest in him. The thought of Rio only fueled his irritation.

While he hadn’t taken any concrete action yet, he knew it wouldn’t be long before this problem grew into something more significant than he wanted.

Chrollo froze for a moment, his thoughts flowing with cold precision. He knew full well he could get rid of Rio in the blink of an eye. It would be nothing more than a formality, an easy obstacle to eliminate.

But every option came with a price.

If he acted brutally, if he chose to remove this nuisance from the equation, he risked destroying everything he had started to build with (Y/N). The fragile relationship they had begun to form; this delicate balance he could hardly admit to cherishing, would shatter in an instant.

And that, he simply couldn’t allow.

Chrollo massaged his temples, as if trying to banish the pressure building in his mind. He focused on staying calm, refusing to let the growing agitation inside him take control.

"Maybe reading something will help me relax," he thought, as he made his way to the (Y/N) shelf, where his books were neatly arranged.

He chose a book at random, flipping quickly through the pages before settling onto the sofa. Chrollo adjusted his position, trying to relax, but his eyes kept drifting to the clock.

His mind was still clouded with thoughts of Rio, though he knew the wait was inevitable. He only hoped that (Y/N) would return soon. He needed to see her, to find her, to chase away the dark clouds that lingered in his mind.

Fifteen minutes had passed since she left, and (Y/N) was completely exhausted. All she wanted now was to relax in her boyfriend’s arms, away from the stress of the bookshop.

She opened the door to her apartment, her muscles sore from the day. But as soon as she stepped inside, she froze, taken aback by the scene before her.

Chrollo was lying on the sofa, his eyes closed as if he’d fallen asleep. A book lay carelessly on his chest, and Sunny, the ginger cat, had settled comfortably on top of it, his head tucked against his belly in a deep sleep. The calmness of the scene was a stark contrast to the bustle outside, and an unexpected smile spread across (Y/N)’s face.

She slowly moved toward the sofa, silently approaching Chrollo. A faint smile played on her lips as she gently waved her hand near his face, as if testing whether he was really asleep.

“He’s asleep…” she murmured, surprised by the sight.

As she drew a little closer, she studied his face with renewed attention. In the subdued light of the room, his features seemed unusually relaxed; a stark contrast to the often tense or calculating expression he usually wore. He seemed... human.

A subtle detail, but one that warmed her heart.

Sunny stirred gently, his ears twitching before he yawned widely, his jaw dropping in a full stretch. The sight drew a soft laugh from (Y/N), a quiet sound that hardly disturbed the calm of the room.

She turned back to Chrollo, still asleep, and as if guided by a gentle impulse, slowly reached out her hand toward him. With her fingertips, she brushed his dark hair, slipping a lock between her fingers.

"They're so soft," she thought, a tender smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

She paused her gesture, her gaze drawn to the headband covering Chrollo’s forehead. This seemingly simple piece of cloth seemed to hold far more than just a habitual accessory.

Part of her had always been curious.

Her hand hesitated, suspended in the air. She knew it might not be the best idea… but the impulse was stronger.

Her fingers barely brushed the fabric when a hand shot up and caught hers.

Firm, but not harsh.

Chrollo had opened his eyes.

His dark gaze rested on her, calm, unfathomable, yet charged with a quiet intensity. The silence between them felt heavier than any words. He didn’t seem angry. Just… present. Whole.

(Y/N) felt her cheeks flush under the warmth of Chrollo’s gaze. She bit her lip lightly and looked down, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry…” she murmured.

“I… I know I shouldn’t have. It’s just that…”

She slowly looked up at him, her eyes reflecting a mixture of apology and quiet sincerity.

“I see you every day with that headband, and sometimes I wonder what you’re really hiding. Not just physically… but you. The parts of you you keep locked away.”

She gave a small, sheepish smile.

“I guess I had a moment of… careless curiosity.”

She took a breath before adding, gently,

“But I don’t want to force anything out of you. If you’re not ready to share it, I’ll respect that. I’m sorry.”

Chrollo remained silent for a moment, his gaze steady, locked into hers. Then, a slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips, subtle, almost invisible, but undeniably there.

“If I show you,” he said softly, “you might end up falling even more in love. Are you sure you’re ready to live with that?”

His voice, deep and calm, carried a hint of amusement, teasing, but without a trace of cruelty. He gently squeezed her hand in his.

“I’m joking,” he added when he saw the mix of confusion and stifled laughter on her face.

A pause.

“Well… half-joking.”

He gently released her hand, only to draw her back toward him with an unexpected tenderness.

“There are things I’ll tell you,” he murmured. “Maybe not now. But one day… I think you’ll understand why I keep certain things hidden.”

(Y/N) looked at him, slightly taken aback by his words, the way they balanced humor and quiet sincerity. Something in her chest tightened, gently, but not painfully.

She nodded slowly, a faint smile curving her lips.(Y/N) gently reached for the book resting on Chrollo’s chest, closed it without a sound, and placed it on the table beside the forgotten popcorn tray.

Then, with careful movements, she bent over and nudged Sunny, who let out an indignant little mewl before curling up at their feet, clearly resigning himself.

She slowly lay down on top of Chrollo, her head settling just above his heart. Eyes closed, she let herself be lulled by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat; quiet, but firm. Like a silent promise, pulsing through him.

Chrollo said nothing. He simply slipped an arm around her waist, holding her close with a tenderness that stood in quiet contrast to everything she thought she knew about him.

The silence was soothing, almost lulling. The warmth of their bodies, pressed close, seemed to melt away the fatigue of the day. In his arms, everything felt right. Safe.

"Chrollo?" (Y/N) called softly, gently breaking the quiet.

"Yes?" he replied, his voice low, intrigued.

"I didn’t know you read comics," she said, her gaze drifting to the book she’d just placed on the table.

A small, mischievous smile tugged at Chrollo’s lips.

"Why? Did you think I was the kind of man who only reads dusty old classics?"

(Y/N) rolled her eyes with a smile.

"You’re really not going to let me keep my assumptions, are you?"

He gave a small shrug, amusement dancing in his gaze.

"Not when you set them up so perfectly for me to knock down."

Chrollo let out a muffled chuckle, his fingers absently playing with a lock of her hair.

"Would you like me to read you a passage?" he offered in a mock-serious tone. "I’m convinced my voice would add a whole new dimension to this epic battle between a mutant bird and a gang of rebellious earthworms."

(Y/N) burst out laughing, her cheek still resting against his chest.

"You have absolutely no respect for the art of comics," she murmured with a smile.

"But… yes. I'd love that. Just to hear you do ridiculous voices."

"I never do ridiculous voices," he protested, feigning indignation.

She looked up at him, a playful spark in her eyes.

"Oh no? I think Sunny would be willing to testify otherwise."

Chrollo stared at her for a few seconds, then sighed theatrically.

"Very well, then. But if I start reading you this story, you have to promise me you won't fall even more in love."

She looked up at him, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Too late. Way too late."

They looked at each other for a moment, as if suspended in time, the atmosphere around them unreal, as if the rest of the world no longer existed. Their hearts seemed to beat in perfect harmony.

(Y/N) gently leaned towards him, and without a word, their lips met in a kiss that was both sweet and passionate. A kiss that spoke of desire, tenderness, everything they had shared so far, and everything they had yet to discover together.

Chrollo knew it was wrong. He didn't deserve this fragile happiness, this quiet peace he found in (Y/N)'s presence.

His past, his actions, and his commitment to the things that had shaped him into an uncompromising man... all of it stood in stark contrast to what he was feeling now.

A man like him had no right to experience pure love, love without conditions.

And yet... just for a moment, he wanted to be selfish.

Maybe it wouldn't last. Maybe, one day, reality would catch up with him. Maybe, sooner or later, he'd have to confront the choices he'd made.

Author's note: I'm doing my best to capture Chrollo's personality in my story, so I hope you like it!

Tag list: @queenmimis @gurlhere4fluff

[nefertiti-wright]

A Story between the Librairian and the Thief

Chapter 11

It had been two weeks since they had decided to start a relationship. Both (Y/N) and Chrollo were new to it, but they were doing surprisingly well, and things seemed to be moving along gently.

It was sweet, reassuring, and above all, new for Chrollo. He had never imagined that being in a relationship could actually be something he would enjoy.

He had never, in his entire life, believed that something so simple could have such a profound effect on him.

For a moment, he had forgotten who he was… and why he had come.

When he was with (Y/N), time seemed to stand still. They moved within an impenetrable bubble, where even the shadows of his past seemed to crumble at his touch.

Sometimes, he was afraid it would all come to an end. He dreaded the day she would find out who he truly was… and what he had done.

Chrollo had never known fear as intensely as he did in those moments. A dull, piercing anguish twisted in his stomach like an invisible blade he couldn't will away.

He had tried, more than once, to reassure himself. After all, he was a ghost to public records and legal systems. The people of Meteor City had been forsaken by the rest of the civilized world, left to disappear without a trace.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” he muttered inwardly.

He shook off his thoughts as he made his way to the bookshop, eager to see his sweet, adorable girlfriend.

The bell chimed softly as he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

“Good morning, welcome...” a male voice called out from the office, trailing off as its owner recognized the newcomer.

Chrollo froze as his eyes landed on Rio, (Y/N)’s friend.

“Hello… (Y/N) isn’t here?” he asked in a neutral tone, though a faint note of disappointment crept in.

Rio let out a quiet sigh.

“No, she went to see her friend Haley… I figured you’d know, since you’re together,” he replied, sarcasm barely hidden behind a tight smile.

At that, Chrollo raised an eyebrow, his gaze darkening ever so slightly. The atmosphere shifted in an instant. He didn’t like what the man behind the desk was trying to imply.

“Well, I must have missed that detail. After all, when we’re together, we rarely talk about work,” Chrollo answered with a polite, almost innocent smile.

Rio rolled his eyes, clearly irritated by the gentlemanly tone of the man before him. He paused for a moment, then straightened up, crossing his arms. His gaze turned colder, more serious.

“(Y/N) mentioned you work in import-export. What kind of business are you involved in?” he asked, his voice laced with an icy undertone.

Chrollo remained perfectly still, his smile unchanged, but his gaze sharpened, becoming more calculating as he sized Rio up, trying to decipher the real intention behind the question.

“Import-export, yes...” he began slowly, his voice soft and measured.

"Let’s just say I’m in a field where opportunities are as varied as the people you meet. You just have to know how to make the right connections."

He allowed the silence to stretch, his gaze locking with Rio's.

“Why do you ask?” he added finally, his composure intact, but a subtle threat laced his tone.

“Did (Y/N) give you the impression that I owe you an explanation?”

Rio gritted his teeth, clearly unprepared for such a response. He could feel the tension thickening in the air, a veiled threat that seemed to make the very atmosphere around them shiver.

“No,” he replied coldly, unfazed.

“But I suppose it’s just my way of ensuring she’s surrounded by the right people.”

Chrollo raised an eyebrow. His smile remained, but it had grown more enigmatic, like an actor preparing for his final scene.

“You look preoccupied, Rio,” he remarked quietly, leaning forward slightly, his voice lowered.

“It would be a shame if misunderstandings were to stain this beautiful friendship you seem to have with (Y/N).”

A heavy silence settled between them, Chrollo’s gaze intense and calculating, as if he were waiting for a reaction… or a mistake.

“Look, I’ll be honest.” Rio paused, his green eyes locking onto Chrollo’s, sharp as daggers.

"I don’t like you, and I’m more than certain you’re hiding something. Your little gentleman act might fool (Y/N), but it won’t work on me."

He straightened up, crossing his arms defiantly, his gaze as razor-sharp as ever.

“I’m not as naive or kind as she is.” Rio approached slowly, leaving his desk to stand directly opposite Chrollo, his eyes boring into him.

“And if you ever try to hurt her in any way...” His voice deepened, the menace clear now.

"I’ll personally make sure you regret ever stepping foot in this place. Do you understand?"

His words were sharp, like threats whispered in the shadows, but the intensity in his gaze left no doubt about the sincerity of his promise.

Chrollo didn’t flinch. A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He slowly raised his eyes to Rio, his gaze calm yet inquisitive. A heavy silence settled between them, the tension palpable.

“Oh... I see.”

His voice, soft and quiet, was in stark contrast to the intensity of the moment. He paused for a beat, as though savoring the weight of the threat in the air.

"It’s touching, really. But you see, Rio..."

He leaned forward slightly, his smile widening just a fraction.

“Perhaps you should worry more about what you stand to lose by continuing with these... little threats.”

He let the words linger in the air, an almost amused tone creeping into his voice, before sitting back with his usual upright composure.

Chrollo’s aura slowly began to fill the bookshop, an invisible yet undeniable pressure that made Rio squint, startled by the sudden shift in the atmosphere. The air seemed to tighten around them, thickening as the tension between them grew heavier.

“Well, I think it’s time for me to go.” Chrollo turned on his heels, his smile still in place, though his gaze had turned icy.

“It’s been a pleasure having this little chat with you, Rio.”

Chrollo made his way slowly toward the exit, leaving a completely perplexed Rio behind. The confusion and frustration in his eyes were unmistakable, as if he’d been caught in a current he hadn’t seen coming.

Rio froze for a moment, his gaze still fixed on the door that had just closed behind Chrollo. A shiver ran up his spine. The pressure had lifted, but the weight it left in the air lingered, slow to dissipate.

“Who the hell is this guy?” he thought, his jaw clenched, unable to shake the uneasy knot tightening in his stomach.

For his part, Chrollo let out a long, measured sigh. His gaze, once polished and relaxed, had turned cold, hardened, charged with silent anger. It was a rare emotion for him, almost alien. Yet something about Rio irked him deeply, enough to disturb his usual calm.

He knew that Rio and (Y/N) shared a friendly, almost brotherly bond. He also knew that, despite (Y/N)’s feelings for him, a part of her still clung to that closeness with Rio.

And it was precisely that attention, that constant preoccupation Rio seemed to have for her, that irked him. A dull, uncontrolled irritation; almost instinctive in its intensity.

Chrollo knew he’d have to keep a closer eye on Rio from now on. The green-eyed young man wasn’t the type to give up easily. Chrollo could already feel it; Rio would search, dig, ask questions. Sooner or later, he’d stumble upon something.

And Chrollo couldn’t allow that. He had to act. Quickly.

He pulled out his phone, his face set, thoughts already in motion. His finger slid across the screen to find the contact he needed. A second later, he pressed the device to his ear.

The dial tone rang only twice before a familiar voice answered.

“Shal, I need you to do something for me,” Chrollo said, his tone dry, authoritative, cutting straight to the point.

A brief silence lingered on the other end, the kind of silence that always followed important orders.

“It’s as good as done, boss,” Shalnark replied before hanging up.

As usual, he didn’t ask any questions. It wasn’t his place, and he knew it well. Yet, lately, his curiosity was becoming harder to suppress, especially after the odd request he had just received: to fabricate a complete identity for Chrollo and conduct thorough research on a certain Rio.

Shalnark frowned slightly, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.

Rio... The name didn’t ring any bells.

Since passing his Hunter’s license, Shalnark had gained access to official databases, a true goldmine for someone with his skills. With a few quick clicks, he brought up Rio's identity card. A photo appeared on the screen, and something stirred inside him.

“He looks familiar...” he murmured, his curiosity piqued as he studied the image.

Following his hunch, Shalnark reached for his phone and opened the social networks. His fingers moved swiftly across the screen until a smirk spread across his lips.

"There you go!"

On (Y/N)'s profile, an old photo appeared: she and Rio, both younger, grinning. Beneath it, the caption was simple, yet telling:“Happy birthday to the most boring and important person in my life♡”

Shalnark raised an eyebrow, his head tilting slightly in amusement.

“Interesting…”

He left (Y/N)’s profile and went straight to Rio’s. Scanning through the posts, he quickly noted the photos: neat, well-composed, often taken in foreign or urban locales, sometimes with unfamiliar but elegant faces.

“Hm. Public profile, professional photos, clean filters... He clearly enjoys the attention,” Shalnark muttered, a mocking undertone to his voice.

He continued scrolling. Beaches, mountains, European alleyways, vibrant rooftops. Rio seemed to travel a lot. Popular, obviously well-liked, and clearly comfortable in the spotlight. Nothing in his posts suggested anything dangerous or even remotely unusual.

He continued his search, delving into archives, cross-referencing data, exploring every digital nook and cranny of Rio’s past... but found nothing. No records, no shady connections, no pretensions. Just an ordinary, sociable guy who liked to travel and throw loud birthday parties.

“Seems like a perfectly normal guy... like (Y/N),” he muttered, squinting at the screen.

But as the words left his lips, he froze.

A click.

A small laugh escaped him as he leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head.

“Oh... I see now.”

A mocking smile tugged at his lips.

“Never thought you were the territorial type, boss...” he chuckled to himself, amused by the realization.

He took one last look at Rio’s profile, then closed all the open windows with a nonchalant flick of his fingers. Not a hint of danger. Just a young man, too normal. Too close...to (Y/N). And that, Shalnark mused, was the real problem.

He smiled again, gently shaking his head in amusement. Chrollo might have been impassive on the surface, but clearly, certain topics concerning a certain bookseller had the power to make him... lose his calm.

Shalnark couldn't wait to get to Yorknew and take a closer look at this little love triangle.

“It promises to be entertaining,” he murmured, settling into his seat with a falsely innocent expression.

In Yorknew, the atmosphere had shifted. Chrollo, still unsettled by his encounter with Rio at the bookshop, couldn't shake the lingering frustration.

On a whim, he’d asked Shalnark to dig into the young man’s background, but deep down, he’d already known it would lead nowhere. And that lack of clarity only worsened his mood.

The absence of answers gnawed at him, feeding a slow-burning irritation he wasn't used to.

Helplessness was not an emotion Chrollo allowed himself and yet, there it was, clawing at the edges of his usually composed mind.

“Are you okay? You seem... strangely annoyed today,” (Y/N) asked gently, concern lacing her voice as she settled beside him on the living room sofa.

After her meeting with Haley, she’d invited Chrollo over, hoping they could spend some quiet time together.

But it was clear something was bothering him something deep, something that refused to be brushed aside.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry,” he replied, offering a reassuring smile though the unrest in his eyes betrayed the calm he tried to project.

(Y/N) watched him quietly for a moment.

“I’ll make us some tea. It’ll help you relax,” she said softly, before getting up and heading toward the kitchen.

She began gathering the utensils, her movements calm and precise but before she could start, she felt Chrollo's arms wrap gently around her from behind.

He leaned in and placed a soft, delicate kiss on her shoulder, his breath warm against her skin.

"You don’t have to go to all this trouble. I’m fine," he murmured, his forehead resting lightly against (Y/N)’s shoulder.

"Actually... I stopped by the bookshop today. You weren’t there, but Rio was," he added, his voice trailing off, as if unsure he wanted to say more.

She let out a quiet sigh, immediately understanding what he was implying. She’d known Rio for years and she knew better than anyone how difficult he could be when he felt the need to play the guardian.

"Don’t pay attention to whatever he might’ve said," she replied gently.

"Rio’s always been very protective... and sometimes that makes him come off a little harsh."

She turned to face him, gently placing her hands on his broad shoulders before leaning in to kiss him tenderly.

He returned the kiss with a warmth she had never felt so clearly before: steady, sincere, and grounding.

“If you’d like, I can talk to him,” she offered, her fingertips brushing softly against his cheek.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” Chrollo replied, wrapping his arms around her in a gentle embrace.

“He didn’t say anything too unpleasant. He’s just… concerned about you. I can understand that.”

She nodded, then gave him a tender smile.

“Do you want to help me make the tea? I feel like making up for today.”

He smiled, and in an instant, the weight in his chest seemed to lift, scattered by the light in her eyes.

“With pleasure.”

Tag list : @queenmimis @gurlhere4fluff

[nefertiti-wright]

A Story between the Librairian and the Thief

Chapter 10

Masterlist

"Rio?! You're already back?" (Y/N) exclaimed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

The dark-haired young man stopped at the door, an uncertain smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah... I wanted to surprise you. But I think I'm the one who's surprised now... I didn't know you were in a relationship."

His eyes shifted from (Y/N) to the man standing beside her, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. Chrollo, as calm as ever, held his gaze without blinking.

A shiver of anxiety ran through (Y/N). She opened her mouth, but no words came out immediately, torn between embarrassment, confusion, and the beginnings of panic.

"It's not what you think," she finally stammered, her gaze flicking between Rio and Chrollo, whose figures seemed oddly frozen in the room's suspended silence.

Now that she was observing them more closely, (Y/N) couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast between the two men.

Rio exuded a natural, almost solar warmth, both in his personality and appearance. He was tall, athletic, with tanned skin and curly brown hair that fell loosely over his forehead. But what drew the most attention were his eyes: bright green, luminous, almost golden in the light.

In contrast, Chrollo seemed to have stepped out of an elegant shadow. His paler skin contrasted perfectly with the neat blackness of his hair. His deep gray eyes reflected a cold light, like the moon's silent glare on a calm surface.

He exuded a singular aura, at once distant and delicate. A measured, almost gentle coldness that intrigued rather than frightened. There was something unreal and inaccessible about him, like an angel of darkness fallen among men.

They were like night and day. Yet the aura radiating from them seemed almost the same… wary, even threatening.

"This is embarrassing… I’ve got to say something", she thought, her heart beating a little too fast.

She was about to open her mouth, but Chrollo beat her to it.

"I’m going to go now," he said simply, his tone dry, almost distant.

The slight change in Chrollo’s behavior shocked her more than she cared to admit. He didn’t wait for her to reply. Without another word, without even a backward glance, he headed for the door, his quiet but determined steps sounding like the discreet closing of a chapter.

Once the door shut behind Chrollo, (Y/N) let out a frustrated grunt, then, in a mixture of annoyance and frustration, kicked Rio’s leg lightly.

"You just blew it, you idiot!"

"Ouch!" Rio cried, bending down to massage his leg, his face contorted in a grimace.

"Are you serious? I'm the one who screwed up? I didn’t even know you had a dark, mysterious guy hanging around the bookshop in the middle of the night!" He straightened up, staring at her with a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

"And besides... who the hell is this guy?!"

(Y/N) exhaled loudly, weariness flooding her as she buried her face in her hands. She massaged her temples, as if hoping to chase away the chaotic thoughts buzzing in her mind.

"He's a customer. He came to town a few weeks ago," she answered simply, not looking up.

"A customer?!" Rio choked, his eyes widening. "Since when do you kiss customers you’ve only known for a few weeks?!"

His voice had risen a notch, betraying either an almost comical surprise or perhaps an annoyance he was trying hard to hide.

The bookseller looked up at him, clearly annoyed.

"You've got a lot of nerve saying that to me. You, who do it all the time."

Rio rolled his eyes, feigning outrage.

"This is me. Don’t try to compare yourself or copy," he replied with theatrical aplomb.

Then, his tone shifted, suddenly more serious, less playful.

"And... I had the impression something serious was going on here."

Seeing that she didn’t answer, Rio insisted, his gaze growing more serious.

"Do you even know him? I mean... apart from the fact that he's a customer? Do you know what he does for a living? Or even if he's a good guy?"

"My God, Rio... you're not my father," she breathed, clearly exasperated.

"No, but you're like my sister," he replied, his expression now serious. "So yeah, it’s normal for me to worry about you. And to wonder about the people you let into your life."

She sighed again, resigned. She knew he wouldn’t let it go.

"All right, if you must know... It's the customer. The one who buys my antique books. You know, the one I told you about the other day."

Rio’s eyes widened in disbelief.

"What?! You mean that guy actually reads that kind of book?" he exclaimed, almost shocked.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, her patience wearing thin.

"And not only that..." she added, a little hesitantly. "Chrollo’s very intelligent, and... we have some really interesting conversations. So... one thing led to another, I suppose."

"Chrollo? Is that his name? Weird name," Rio said, raising an eyebrow.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes wearily once more.

"You're one to talk, with your pet bird name?"

"Hey! My name is beautiful, original, and easy to remember," he replied with mock pride, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"You're disgusting," she said, laughing despite herself.

"But you love me anyway. I mean, who couldn't love me?" he added with a wink and that cheesy grin he had perfected over the years.

(Y/N) burst out laughing.

"Okay, enough about me. Tell me about your trip."

She then listened as he happily rambled on about his many adventures, his more or less dubious discoveries, and his countless conquests. At times, she laughed out loud; at others, she rolled her eyes, wearing that exasperated yet amused smile that only Rio could pull from her.

But deep down, a part of her remained elsewhere.Her thoughts kept drifting back to Chrollo.

To his cold voice. To that look or rather, the absence of one when he’d walked away without so much as a glance.

The sudden distance tightened around her heart like a silent ache.

And after that kiss... there was no real doubt.

She knew what she felt.

Several days had passed since Rio’s return and since the kiss she had shared with Chrollo.

It had also been several days since she had seen him. No message. No visit to the bookshop. Nothing.

The days moved slowly, but every minute without news from him carved out an emptiness she hadn’t anticipated. She kept herself busy as best she could, yet every quiet moment, every glance toward the door, every silence too heavy, brought her back to him.

(Y/N) was well aware of her lack of self-confidence. She had learned to live with it, to camouflage it behind smiles and silence.

But the fact that a man like Chrollo had kissed her… and then disappeared for days, only fed her most persistent, most corrosive doubts.

"It's not your fault. He’ll be back. I’m sure he will," Haley had whispered, with that soft, reassuring smile that had always calmed her.

She wanted to believe her friend. She really did.But despite those kind words, doubt had crept in quietly, deeply.

And it weighed on her like a cloak far too heavy to shrug off. The winter chill seemed to seep right through the walls of the bookshop, making the atmosphere even colder… and lonelier than it already was.

Even the books, usually so comforting, felt silent.

As if they too were waiting for something. Or someone.

"Well, I’m off," said Rio, slipping on his jacket.

"Right, then. See you tomorrow... and be careful on the road," (Y/N) replied with a distracted smile.

It was his turn to close up the store tonight, but he had to stop by the bank first.

As for her, she still had a few things to finish in the bookshop, filing, sorting...And above all, not thinking too much.

Once Rio had left, (Y/N) gently closed the door behind him and returned to the bookshop.

She resumed her usual tasks those mechanical, slightly tedious gestures... but ones that, at least, kept her busy. Helped her forget, if only for a moment, the storm of thoughts swirling in her mind.

She tidied, filed, and dusted, her gaze occasionally lingering on a familiar page or title.

She was simply waiting for closing time to come.

As if it might bring, along with the quiet, a little peace.

The entrance bell tinkled, jolting her from her thoughts.

"Hello..."

Her voice caught halfway through.

She froze.

Chrollo stood there upright, silent, his gaze fixed on a shelf. He ran his fingers slowly along the spines of the books, as if searching for something specific… or simply taking his time.

Her heart skipped a beat.

After all these days, he was back. But why now?And more importantly… why without a word?

"Are those new books?" Chrollo asked, his voice calm, almost neutral.

Taken aback, (Y/N) stammered slightly, not expecting such an… ordinary entrance after so much silence.

"Yes... Rio brought them back from his trip. And there are some rare items too, if you’re ever interested..." She paused.

Chrollo had stopped moving. His fingers left the books, and he turned slowly toward her. His gaze was neither cold nor warm. It was unfathomable. And for the first time since they’d met... (Y/N) realized she couldn’t read him.

"I’ll go and get them for you, if you like..." she began, taking a step backward.

"There’s no need," Chrollo cut her off, his voice suddenly sharper.

"I’ll just look at the books." His tone, icy and impenetrable, fell like a cleaver.

(Y/N) felt a shock course through her body. It was as if the cold of winter had seeped into her heart. She froze, unable to understand, let alone respond.

She wanted to disappear. Anywhere, as long as she no longer had to endure this brutal distance.

"All right..." she replied simply, her voice barely audible.

She turned, taking a few steps away from him. But her heart refused to go any further.

A part of her wanted to stay. To understand. To let him explain. Why he had disappeared. Why he’d been so cold to her, when he had been the one to kiss her. Why now... he was acting as if nothing had happened.

She stopped. Slowly, she turned to face him.

She knew she was probably going to regret it. Maybe he’d even look at her like she annoyed him.

But she didn’t care.

After all... she was the one who’d said you shouldn’t regret what you dared to do.

"Why haven’t you been to the bookshop the last few days?" she asked, her voice barely shaking. "Why do I get the feeling you’re avoiding me, Chrollo?"

She paused, her heart pounding."

Especially after you kissed me..."

She inhaled deeply before continuing, her tone gentler this time,

"You know, if you didn’t really want to... or if you regretted this gesture, I’d understand."

She lowered her eyes for a moment, then raised them to meet his.

"I’m not a fragile person. You can tell me what you think, without fearing I’ll break down."

A slight silence passed.

"After all... you wouldn’t be the first to reject me."

At last, she stopped, staring straight into his eyes, ready to take his answer, whatever it might be.

But Chrollo didn’t answer.

He just stood there, his eyes still fixed on her. His gaze, cold and unfathomable, betrayed nothing. Nothing but an icy, heavy silence that fell on her like an invisible wall.

(Y/N) felt a shiver run down her spine. The look in his eyes made her feel uncomfortable, as if she’d bared herself to a marble statue. She had hoped for a reaction, a word, a gesture. But nothing came.

This silence... was worse than any answer.

She felt tears welling up in her eyes, burning, uncontrollable.

"I’ll leave you alone now..." she murmured in an almost broken voice. Without waiting for an answer, she turned and walked away, disappearing into the back of the bookshop.

Once the door closed behind her, the silence was finally broken. A sob escaped her, muffled by the palm of her hand, which she immediately pressed against her mouth. She’d known rejection, more than once.

But this... this hurt more than she cared to admit.

She let herself go for a moment, her face buried in her hands, her breath broken by emotion. Then, slowly, she wiped away her tears with her fingertips, inhaled deeply... and stood up.

With a discreet but determined gesture, she opened the door.

She froze when she saw him.

Chrollo stood there, just in front of her, motionless. Their eyes met, and without a word, he slowly reached out his hand, gently brushing her cheek with his fingertips.

"You've been crying..." he murmured. His voice was no longer cold; it was almost a breath, imbued with a strange gentleness.

It wasn’t really a question. It was an obviousness he could read in her. And in his gray eyes, she no longer saw the ice of before. Only something... more human.

"If I ignored you, it’s because I didn’t want to get you more involved... But I think it’s too late now," he said simply.

His words resonated within her, but (Y/N) didn’t really understand what he meant.

Her gaze sought answers in Chrollo's, but he continued, in a lower voice,

"Since I met you... many things have changed in me. It wasn’t planned. None of it was. I’ve always been... detached. Focused. Feelings, attachments... they weren’t in my plans. It was never meant to be."

He paused, then raised his eyes to hers, darker, but truer too.

"I think I like you more than I wanted to admit, (Y/N)."

And without giving her time to reply, Chrollo leaned in. The kiss he placed on her lips was tender, but burning with a passion contained for too long. His fingers slid delicately against her cheek, as if he feared breaking it. There was no urgency, no hesitation; just this silent need to be true at last.

She responded to his kiss, eyelids closed, heart beating wildly.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, as if to anchor him a little more to her, and prolonged the kiss. Their momentum tipped them slightly, until her back gently met one of the bookshop shelves.

Chrollo supported her, his hands resting on either side of her hips, like a soft prison in which she felt strangely safe.

The kiss gained in intensity, but remained imbued with that feverish tenderness.

They parted breathlessly, their gaze intense and imbued with desire, but also tenderness. Their breaths intertwined in the silence, each trying to regain their composure.

Chrollo looked into her eyes, a gentle gleam in his dark irises, as if waiting for her next word with unexpected patience.

"Chrollo... I'd like us to go slowly," she said, her voice trembling, almost shy.

She blushed, feeling suddenly vulnerable, almost ashamed to reveal such fragility.

"You know, I've never been in a relationship before... so..." She paused, embarrassed, lowering her eyes. Confessing something so intimate made her feel exposed.

"You know... to be honest, this is my first real relationship too, so you're not the only one," Chrollo admitted, a small smirk gracing his lips.

(Y/N)’s breath caught for a moment, surprised by this revelation. She looked at him for a moment, surprise turning to gentle understanding.

Then, without a word, he plunged back to her lips, with that infinite gentleness he hadn’t let show before.

He kissed her slowly, almost as if savoring every moment, every sensation he offered her. There was no rush, no pressure, only the warmth of a connection unfolding, each breath shared between them a silent promise.

Deep down, Chrollo knew he was playing a dangerous game. He felt that if he invested more in this relationship, he risked losing control over who he really was.

But the moment their lips met again, that thought vanished in the immensity of what he felt for her.

Maybe if she never knew the truth about him, everything would be all right.

Author’s note: I'm not great at writing kissing scenes... but I'll do my best in the next chapters.

Tag list : @queenmimis @gurlhere4fluff

[nefertiti-wright]

A Story between the Libriarian and the Thief

Chapter 9

It had been a particularly trying day for (Y/N). The endless tidying and dusting of books and objects around the shop were wearing on her nerves and today, she didn’t have much patience to spare.

She hadn’t had a moment to breathe earlier, not after Haley’s sudden appearance.

And then came the unexpected lunch with Chrollo unplanned, unusual, and lingering in her thoughts long after. The moment she’d stepped away from him, she had called her friend, eager to recount everything.

Haley, true to form, had burst into the bookshop the very next morning with a thunderous “TELL ME EVERYTHING!”

(Y/N) had rolled her eyes, already on the verge of a migraine.

Still, she'd told her everything, every last detail. From the surprise of running into him by chance to the unexpected warmth of their lunch together.

The way time had seemed to slow, how his gaze had lingered a moment too long, and how, against all odds, she'd found herself smiling more than she had in days.

And then she’d finally admitted what she hadn’t dared to say out loud until now: that she felt something for Chrollo.

And, more than anything… that for a fleeting moment, she’d thought he was going to kiss her.

“I knew it!” Haley had cried, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “I swear, I’m certain he feels something for you too! I could tell the second I saw him!”

(Y/N) had rolled her eyes at her friend’s theatrics, but even now, hours later, Haley’s words still echoed in her mind.

She doubted Chrollo harbored any romantic feelings for her. And yet, she couldn’t shake the image of that burning look on his lips.

Had he really looked at her like he was about to kiss her? Or had she simply imagined it, swept away by a moment that had felt too gentle, too intimate to be real?

The questions circled endlessly in her mind, spinning like a storm she couldn’t quiet.

She shook her head, as if to banish the thoughts, and glanced at the clock: 5:44 p.m. She’d closed the bookshop a little early today, giving herself the rare luxury of tidying up at a gentler pace.

She made her way to the shelf where Majan’s false relic sat. Her gaze lingered on the strange object, and inevitably her thoughts drifted back to Chrollo.

“What the hell is happening to me…” she muttered under her breath, snatching up the dusty piece to clean it.

As she turned the relic over in her hands to clean it, a soft thump broke the silence. Startled, she looked down.

Something had fallen to the floor.Frowning, she crouched and picked it up: a small piece of paper, yellowed with age, folded with deliberate care.She studied it closely. The ink, though faded in places, was still legible.

Delicate, almost elegant handwriting traced its way across the surface of the parchment.

"On the burning sand, before his hesitant steps,

Rested a jewel, dazzling, captivating.

He reached out, heart pounding with envy,

Unaware that this desire would seal his madness.

He wanted it all, no sharing, no delay

And in his pursuit, he forgot love.

The one who loved him, he saw her slipping away

Only once the cold jewel was clenched in his hand.

For this diamond, splendid yet cruel,

Was the price of a heart turned artificial.

And if he knew its terrible secret,

It was that he had lost what should never have been forsaken."

“It’s a beautiful poem…” she murmured, her eyes still fixed on the delicate script.

She read it again.

Then a third time.

As if each line peeled back another layer.

“How could such an intimate text, so heavy with regret, have ended up hidden inside a fake old relic?”

She couldn’t shake the feeling that this poem wasn’t there by chance.

She turned her head at the sound of the door opening and froze.

Chrollo stood in the doorway, calm as ever, his coat dusted with the cold of the evening.

“Chrollo? What are you doing here at this hour?” she asked, startled.

He raised an eyebrow, that familiar, amused smile tugging at his lips.

“I thought you'd be delighted to see your favorite customer.”

(Y/N) let out a soft laugh.

"I'm always glad to see you, you know that. I just closed a little early to reorganize the shop. Besides… it's rare to see you at this hour. You usually stop by in the morning or early afternoon."

Chrollo nodded slowly, his gaze settling on her with a quiet kind of warmth.

“I had work to do,” he said simply.

She nodded gently, though a familiar question tugged at the back of her mind one that surfaced every time he mentioned his “job.”

Chrollo had once told her he worked in import-export, but he’d never gone into detail.

He rarely spoke about himself. Aside from his love of books and philosophy, she knew almost nothing about what he actually did… or who he really was.

And yet, she could feel it, he was opening up. Slowly, cautiously, in small, almost imperceptible steps. But it was there. And somehow, that already meant more than she cared to admit.

“What’s this?” he asked, gently pulling her out of her thoughts.

She looked up, then followed his gaze fixed on the piece of paper still clutched between her fingers.

“It’s… a sort of poem,” she said, handing it to him. “I found it hidden inside Majan’s fake relic.”

Chrollo stepped closer, his movements as calm and precise as ever. He took the paper from her hands without a word, unfolding it carefully. His eyes moved slowly across the lines, attentive, silent, his focus so complete it was almost disconcerting.

“It’s beautiful,” he said at last, his voice quieter than usual.

“I thought so too,” she replied, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

Her gaze wandered briefly to the now empty relic.

“I wonder who could’ve slipped that inside…”

Chrollo stepped forward and gently took the relic from (Y/N)’s hands.

He studied it in silence, turning it slowly between his fingers. Something about it bothered him. A detail… or perhaps a fleeting sensation he couldn’t quite place.

Faint, elusive but persistent. Without a word, he activated his Gyo. Just a subtle flicker in his gaze, his pupils sharpening with quiet intensity.

Nothing. No Nen flow, no hidden trace.

On the surface, it was exactly what it claimed to be: a simple imitation.

Harmless. Empty.

And yet… that uneasiness wouldn’t leave him.

“You seem unusually interested in this relic,” (Y/N) remarked, stepping closer to glance over his shoulder.

Chrollo stared at the object a moment longer, then turned his head toward her, thoughtful.

“Not particularly,” he said calmly.

“But don’t you find it strange… that such a personal poem ended up here? By mistake?”

She hesitated, then gave a small shrug.

“Well… maybe the person who made the relic was inspired by Majan’s story. Who knows.”

She paused, her gaze drifting back to the poem.

“It doesn’t really matter who wrote it, or why it ended up there... This text speaks about something deeper. About the consequences of our choices.”

A faint, almost wistful smile curved her lips.

“A beautiful life lesson,” she said softly.

Chrollo fell silent again, her words lingering in the quiet. Then, as if thinking aloud, he murmured,

“The consequences of our choices, hmm…”

The bookshop was immersed in a soothing silence, wrapped in the stillness of the night.

Outside, snow fell in a graceful veil, gently covering the streets bathed in the warm glow of lanterns.

Inside, time felt suspended held between shelves of forgotten stories and the quiet rhythm of two hearts, perhaps beginning to understand one another.

“Chrollo…” she said softly, breaking the silence.He turned to her, unhurried, his gaze steady and attentive anchored in hers.

“I think that… no matter the choices we make, or the consequences we face… we shouldn’t regret what we do.”

A nervous little laugh escaped her lips.

“Which is kind of hypocritical coming from me, honestly… I do it all the time.”

She paused, searching for the right words, then continued, her voice lower, more fragile.

“But I believe that our actions, even our mistakes help us grow. Help us move forward. They push us past the fear we feel every time we’re forced to choose. We shouldn’t try to erase them. Or regret them.”

Chrollo remained silent for a few seconds, his gaze steady on her. Then he spoke, his voice lower and softer than usual.

“What you say is true. But not everyone has the strength to face their mistakes… let alone accept them.”

He paused, his eyes dropping briefly to the relic still in his hands.

“There are choices we believe we’ve mastered.And then one day, we look back… and realize they’ve redrawn an entire life. Not just ours.”

His gaze returned to her more intense now, almost troubled.

“That’s when regret becomes dangerous. Because it doesn’t let us move forward. It keeps us chained.”

Chrollo had never regretted anything in his life.The mass murders, the thefts, the creation of the Spider… every act had always held meaning. A logic. A place within the order he had crafted for himself.

And yet, in that moment in that silent bookshop, facing a young woman who still believed mistakes could make us better, something inside him cracked. Just a little.

For a moment, he regretted everything he had built. Everything he had sacrificed to become what he was.

The chaos, the blood, the cold convictions that had shaped him, all suddenly seemed distant.

Almost absurd.

In that instant, he wished he could erase it all.

Go back to who he had been, before the shadows swallowed him whole. To live a simple life. Ordinary. Quiet. A life without secrets, without violence, without lies.

Just… for her.

“You know… sometimes I think maybe I’m a little naive about some things,”

(Y/N) admitted, a faint, nervous smile tugging at her lips.

“After all, everyone’s different. So I guess our choices and what we take from them, it depends a lot on what we’ve lived through.”

Chrollo looked at her for a moment, as if trying to read what she wasn’t saying.

Then, in a voice softer than usual, almost a whisper, “it’s not naivety. It’s a form of strength.”

He looked away, lost in thought.

“Still seeing the good… believing our mistakes can mean something…Maybe that’s what people like me are missing.”

His gaze returned to her, calm but intense, an unreadable glint in his eyes.

“You… you don’t have to change.”

(Y/N) looked at him, eyes slightly wide, breath caught in her throat.

Her heart was beating so fast she feared it might betray her.

Chrollo, so enigmatic, so meticulously controlled seemed suddenly… human. Vulnerable, even.

There was no calculation in his gaze. No mask. Only this naked truth, laid bare in his words.

And that look steady, unflinching anchored to hers, like a silent tether.

Chrollo’s thumb slowly traced the curve of her cheek, as if he were discovering something precious for the very first time.

There was a tenderness in the gesture unexpected, almost unreal, coming from him.

(Y/N) closed her eyes, letting herself drift in that simple touch that spoke more than words ever could. She could feel his breath close, calm… almost hesitant.

She held her breath, her heart beating so fast she was certain he could hear it.

His lips brushed hers so light, so delicate, it barely felt real. Like a dream you don’t dare rush, afraid it might slip away.

Then the kiss deepened. Still tender, still unhurried but charged with an emotion neither of them could name. It wasn’t wild passion. It wasn’t fire without control. It was something rarer. Something quieter. Something profoundly intimate.

Suddenly, a loud thud echoed near the door.

Chrollo and (Y/N) sprang apart, as if reality had just struck them in the face.

Her cheeks flushed crimson, and she avoided the gaze of the newcomer.

Chrollo, outwardly calm again, had already masked his emotions but a cold light flickered in his eyes as they settled on the boy.

The brown-haired young man stood frozen, travel bags still at his feet, mouth agape.

“What the fuck!?” he blurted out, clearly in shock.

“Rio! You’re back already?!” (Y/N) exclaimed, her voice a mix of surprise and panic.

She wished she could vanish on the spot.

Author’s note: I love poetry but goddamn it was so hard to write it in English 🤣 I hope it's understandable. I've started writing the next chapter if I don't end up changing it again it should be ready by Saturday

Tag list : @queenmimis @gurlhere4fluff

[nefertiti-wright]

A Story between the Librairian et the Thief

Chapter 8

The winter chill slid across the skin like an icy caress, gently stinging cheeks and fingers even through gloves.

The air was filled with the quiet typical of Yorknew's residential neighborhoods at this time of year. The snow, which had fallen earlier in the day, crunched softly beneath their feet.

Weekends were usually rather peaceful, most people preferred the comfort of their homes or the buzz of the city center.

(Y/N) and Chrollo walked side by side, shopping bags in hand, wrapped in a peaceful silence. Not a word was spoken, yet there was no awkwardness. Just a soft, knowing stillness, as if their mere presence was enough to warm the cold air around them.

(Y/N) kept replaying these new feelings, still discreet when it came to the handsome man. They crept into his thoughts like mist in an alleyway, slowly, without warning, until they shrouded everything.

She glanced at him discreetly. Chrollo's face, bathed in the soft golden glow of the streetlamps, looked calm. There was nothing rigid in his expression. It was peaceful, almost serene, like someone walking through the world without bearing its weight, or just enough not to show it.

(Y/N) found his enigmatic allure almost... charismatic. He exuded something rare, a quiet assurance, laced with mystery, that captivated without effort.

As she watched him walk beside her, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was aware of the effect he had on others. That quiet magnetism, that calm yet commanding presence... It wasn’t just his appearance. It was everything he was.

Chrollo wasn’t just handsome. He was remarkably intelligent. Every conversation with him, no matter how trivial, seemed to feed his mind. He had a way of speaking about everything: literature, philosophy, art, even strategy, with a disconcerting ease that never came off as pretentious.

He listened as much as he spoke, and every word felt deliberate, chiseled with precision.

She had never met anyone so profoundly cultured. And the words, along with that earnest glow he’d given her back at the grocery store, made her heart beat in that warm, quiet way she was starting to recognize.

“We’ve arrived,” Chrollo said, looking up at her.

“That’s strange… You didn’t say a word the whole way. Usually, you always have something to say,” he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow “Are you saying I’m a chatterbox?” she asked, feigning offense.

Chrollo let out a soft laugh.

“I never said it bothered me.”

Boom.

Her heart made that sound again. She lowered her gaze slightly, unable to suppress the discreet smile that had just escaped her lips. It wasn’t much, just a sentence, yet it was enough to shift something, quietly but surely.

She didn’t fully understand what she was feeling, not yet. But it was there, unmistakably present. She felt foolish for reacting so strongly to something so small.

And yet… it wasn’t small to her.

“Could it be that I lov...”

Her thought was cut short by Chrollo’s calm voice.

“ You should go home. You’ll catch a cold.”

She nodded slowly in agreement, then turned to face him.

“Thank you for helping me carry my groceries,” the young bookseller said with a smile.

“You're welcome. Have a nice weekend,” Chrollo replied, setting the bag down by his door.

He turned to leave, but (Y/N) called out almost immediately, her voice carrying a note of hesitation.

“Wait, Chrollo… What if you… came over for dinner?” she asked, shyly.

He looked at her for a moment, as if weighing his answer, then nodded slowly.

“Okay… why not.”

(Y/N) blinked, slightly surprised. She’d almost prepared herself for a polite refusal. And yet, he had accepted. She didn’t know exactly why, but it warmed something inside her.

A quiet certainty that he was, in his own way, beginning to open up. Unable to help herself, she let a discreet smile form on her lips.

She opened the door and stepped inside.

“Come in, make yourself at home,” she said with a smile, before disappearing into the kitchen.

Chrollo stepped inside with quiet ease, his gaze sweeping over the room with calm, precise attention.

As always, he observed everything in silence. The living room before him was just like its owner: warm, lively, and full of softness.

The walls were tastefully decorated, adorned with softly colored paintings, a few photographs, and shelves filled with neatly arranged books.

Plants, some tall, others more discreet, occupied the corners of the room, adding a touch of freshness and quiet life to the space.

A small aquarium sat on a shelf near the window, bathed in a soft, subdued light. Tiny, brightly colored fish swam lazily inside, adding a hypnotic touch of serenity to the space, like a quiet rhythm, pulsing gently in the background.

This simple detail gave the room a quiet charm, as if time itself were slowing down.

In the center stood a soft sofa, draped in colorful cushions, while a warm lamp cast a gentle, comforting glow across the space.

Everything here seemed to breathe serenity, calm… and a kind of intimacy Chrollo wasn’t accustomed to.

It was the kind of place where the outside world felt far away. And, strangely enough, he felt at home here.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by something brushing gently against his leg. Looking down, he met the watchful gaze of a bright-eyed ginger cat: Sunny.

Chrollo slowly crouched down, his movements measured, and reached out to stroke him. The feline immediately began to purr, clearly pleased that his manipulation technique had worked to perfection. A discreet, almost imperceptible smile touched Chrollo’s lips.

“Would you like something to drink?” (Y/N) asked as she stepped into the living room.

Chrollo shifted his gaze from the cat to her. His attention lingered for a moment on the apron she was wearing, purple, with a white-lettered message that made him smile faintly: "Food is life."

A quiet chuckle escaped him. He couldn’t help but find her adorable in that apron, almost endearingly so.

“Just water will be fine. Thanks,” Chrollo replied, then added with a small smile,

“You know, it’s really nice of you to invite me. You didn’t have to. I could’ve just eaten at home.”

“Well… I wanted to thank you for the groceries,” she said with a light shrug.

“Besides… instant noodles, while good, don’t really count as a real meal.”

She paused, then tilted her head slightly, a curious note in her voice.

“Though honestly, I didn’t expect you to eat that kind of stuff.”

Chrollo raised an eyebrow, visibly amused.

“What do you mean?”

She waved her hands, struggling to find the right words.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, it’s just… you kind of seem like the type who would eat…”

She stopped mid-sentence, realizing where she was going.

Panic. Too late.

Chrollo looked at her, his smile slowly widening.

“Would eat what?”

She lowered her gaze, cheeks slightly flushed, and mumbled under her breath, “…salad?”

Chrollo remained silent for a moment, then let out a soft laugh.

Sincere. Unexpected.

(Y/N) stared at him, startled. It was the first time she’d seen him express anything other than his usual impenetrable calm… or that quietly calculating gaze he so often wore. This wasn’t a mocking smile, nor a sarcastic one.It was real.

Light, genuine, almost warm.

And strangely enough, she didn’t feel embarrassed by what she’d just said.

For once, she didn’t feel like running away or apologizing.

On the contrary, she felt good. Light. Maybe even a little proud.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to laugh in your face,” Chrollo said, his smile lingering.

“It’s just… it’s the first time anyone’s ever said that to me.”

(Y/N) shook her head, amused.

“No, it’s okay. It’s my fault… Thinking that about you was really cliché.”

She looked up, met his gaze, then let out a soft, genuine laugh.

Chrollo looked at her in silence, but couldn’t help smiling again. There was something about this girl. A disarming simplicity. And for once, he wasn’t trying to guard himself against it.

“I’ll go get you that glass of water. Be right back. Make yourself comfortable…” she said, already turning toward the kitchen.

But his voice stopped her.

“Wait a second. I’d like to come with you… and help, if you don’t mind.”

He added with a soft, teasing chuckle,

“It’s been a while since I cooked a real meal.”(Y/N) looked at him for a moment, slightly surprised, then gave a soft nod.

“Okay… follow me then,” she said simply, motioning for him to step into the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, (Y/N) pulled a few ingredients from the fridge: ready-made ravioli dough, some grated vegetables, ginger, garlic, and a bit of minced meat.

Chrollo watched her with curious eyes.

“What are we making?” he asked.

“Homemade ravioli,” she replied, beginning to arrange everything neatly on the counter.

“It’s simple, but you’ll need a little patience.”

She quickly showed him how to mix the ingredients for the stuffing, then how to moisten the edges of the dough and fold it in half.

Chrollo, focused, imitated her gestures with almost surgical precision.

Having grown up in Meteor City, a place of waste and the forgotten, he had never really had the chance to prepare rich, or even decent meals.

As a child, he made do with whatever scraps he and his friends could scavenge. Sometimes, he would walk all the way to the church, hoping for something a little more substantial.

“You’re doing pretty well,” (Y/N) said with a smile.

“That’s because I have an excellent teacher,” he replied, his eyes still fixed on her.

Her heart skipped a little at the words, so casually spoken, yet warmed by the calm intensity of his gaze.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the tension became almost tangible. It was as if time had stilled, just briefly, holding its breath.

Chrollo’s gaze drifted, almost imperceptibly, to (Y/N)’s lips. Her heart responded instantly.

Harder. Faster. As if it wanted to leap out of her chest.

Feeling the warmth rising to her cheeks, (Y/N) looked away for a second, trying to steady herself.

“You… want me to show you another way of folding them?” Her voice was a little softer than usual. Almost shy.

Chrollo raised an eyebrow, the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“You mean… a secret ravioli master technique?” His voice had taken on a slightly teasing tone, but it remained soft, almost charming.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes with a smile, trying to mask the flutter in her chest.

“Maybe so, yes. But I only share it with highly motivated apprentices,” she replied, matching his tone.

Chrollo let out a quiet breath of amusement, then stepped a little closer.

“In that case… I’m all ears.”

Tag list : @queenmimis @gurlhere4fluff

[nefertiti-wright]

A Story between the Librarian and the Thief

Chapter 7

Masterlist

From the top of a building, Chrollo stood erect, his gaze cold and calculating. Below, a gang of mobsters was unloading several trucks, carefully carrying crates covered in white sheets. He assumed they contained valuables destined for the Underground Auction.

His eyes scanned the scene, taking note of the cameras and the guards posted at every corner of the building.

The Cemetery Building was one of the most secure places in the city. It was where the top mafia bosses held their auctions and most important meetings.

Chrollo needed to find a way for the Troupe to get in and out without drawing too much attention.His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden flutter of wings, a bird flying close to him.

"If we could fly, it would be perfect," he mused, his gaze still following the bird.

A sudden ring broke the moment. He turned away and reached for his phone.

He picked up the phone and asked, “So, Shalnark, did you find what I asked for?”

Shalnark, as enthusiastic as ever, replied, “Yes, except I didn’t find anything interesting. I checked everything, even her social media, but she seems like a perfectly normal girl. No Nen, no criminal record… nothing at all.”

Chrollo made a slight sound of assent.

He had asked Shalnark to investigate (Y/N). He had been almost certain nothing would come up, but still, he couldn’t stop wondering about her.

Something about the young bookseller unsettled him… or perhaps he envied her.

It was rare for him to feel anything like this toward someone and it irritated him deeply.

Chrollo had spent his life erasing every trace of the kid he had once been. That part of him, naive and innocent, had vanished long ago with his childhood.

Seeing it reflected in (Y/N) stirred a disturbing curiosity within him. Her jovial smile, sharp mind, and disarming kindness… he didn’t want any of it to fade. He wanted to keep watching, to understand. Perhaps even to preserve it.

He had always believed all human beings were the same, monsters devoid of humanity, selfish, greedy, proud, and manipulative.

Growing up in Meteor City had taught him that kindness and compassion were weaknesses best hidden, if not forgotten entirely.

Finding those human emotions in (Y/N) did him more good than he cared to admit.

He had spent years eradicating anything resembling tenderness or empathy, but she… she shook that detachment with disconcerting ease.

“Is she important to our mission?” Shalnark asked on the other end of the line, his tone neutral.

Chrollo paused. “No,” he said at last. “It’s just… a personal curiosity.” His voice remained calm, controlled. But even he could hear how thinly veiled the lie sounded.

On the other end of the line, Shalnark looked intrigued. It wasn’t the first time his boss had asked for information about a woman, but usually, it was tied to a mission or a target meant to be manipulated.

This girl, (Y/N), felt… different.

"Could it be the boss has a crush? " he wondered silently, an amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He picked up his phone again and began scrolling through the girl’s photos. It didn’t take long to notice she had a certain talent for photography. The images were sharp, well-composed, sometimes even artistic. One series caught his eye in particular: shots of a shelf filled with old books, all perfectly arranged.

“I've got it!” he quipped, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

He continued, almost laughing, “You’re planning to steal the books from her bookshop, aren’t you, boss?”

A brief, weighted silence followed. Then Chrollo replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips, “Let’s just say… I might take an interest after our mission. That bookshop seems to hold more than just books.” He said no more, deliberately letting the mystery hang in the air.

Shalnark recognized that tone, the one Chrollo used when something, or someone, had truly caught his attention.

Raising an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips, he added, “Hmm… you know, boss, it’s the first time I’ve seen you linger this much on a personal curiosity. You’ll have to tell me one day what draws you more? Her bookshop or...her ?”

He laughed softly, more intrigued than concerned, fully aware that Chrollo likely wouldn’t answer. But that only made him more curious.

After all, Shalnark was a Manipulator. He knew the signs when Chrollo was gearing up to manipulate someone. And the fact that he’d known him for years gave him a distinct advantage.

“I’ll send you everything you need to know about her. Oh, and I’ve already informed the rest of the Troupe that a mission’s coming up.They’re eager for action… especially Uvo,” he added with a chuckle.

Chrollo knew this was a mission the whole Troupe had been waiting for. After all, it had been three years since their last full-scale heist.

“Very well, then. Tell them to meet on August 31st, in Yorknew,” he replied, his tone calm but commanding.

Once the call ended, Chrollo strolled out of the building, hands in his pockets, and made his way to a small local grocery store.

He wasn’t particularly hungry, just in the mood for a snack. Reaching the instant noodle aisle, he grabbed a packet, his eyes discreetly scanning the store.

He watched the cashier, distracted by her phone, and the few customers scattered among the shelves.

After all, he was a thief. Why pay for something when you can take it without being seen?

“Chrollo?”

The voice was soft, familiar and laced with genuine curiosity.

He froze.

Slowly, he turned around, surprised he hadn’t sensed her presence earlier. He was always so careful… so aware. How had he let her get this close without noticing? His gaze landed on her.

(Y/N) stood there, pushing a full shopping cart. She wore a large white wool sweater, gray sweatpants, and worn brown Uggs. Her hair was hastily tied up, framing a face that clearly showed her nervousness. She was used to shopping in casual clothes… but right now, she bitterly regretted it.

"Damn it! I should’ve dressed better than this…Why did I have to run into him today?!" she thought, mortified.

Without giving anything away, Chrollo lifted the noodle packet slightly.

“I was a little hungry… figured I’d stop by since I was in the neighborhood,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

His eyes drifted to (Y/N)’s cart.

“And you? Planning to carry all that on your own?” he asked, gesturing subtly toward the overflowing cart.

The young bookseller glanced at her cart, slightly flustered. “Well… normally, Rio helps me with the groceries. But since he’s out of town, I’m on my own,” she said with a small shrug.

At the mention of the name, Chrollo couldn’t suppress a flicker of curiosity. “Rio… you’ve known him since childhood, haven’t you?”

Surprised by the question, (Y/N) stared at him for a moment before shifting her gaze to the shelf beside her. “Yes. We grew up in the same neighborhood and went to school together,” she said, a soft, slightly wistful smile on her lips.

A detail that didn’t escape Chrollo ’s notice. “Do you love him?” he asked, bluntly.

The question hit her like a jolt. Her eyes widened.“ No! Of course not… I mean…”

She looked down, searching for the right words. “I had a little crush on him back then. But he never saw me as anything more than a friend.”

She let out a soft, slightly nervous laugh.“I’m not really the kind of girl guys always go for, you know?”

She tried to say it casually, but the embarrassment in her voice was unmistakable.

Chrollo looked away slightly, his tone turning more serious.“I disagree,” he said simply.

“You have many qualities. Qualities anyone could be drawn to. Don’t doubt yourself.”

(Y/N) stared at him, caught off guard. She hadn’t expected that. She tried to read his expression, to grasp the meaning behind his words.

Was it a compliment? A simple observation?Or… something more?

“What do you mean…” she began, still confused, but he cut her off.

The serious expression had already vanished from Chrollo ’s face, replaced by that small, enigmatic smile of his.

“Why don’t we get back to your shopping? I could help you carry all this,” he offered, his tone light, almost disarmingly casual.

She blinked a few times, trying to keep up with the sudden shift. Was this really the same man who, just seconds ago, had unsettled her with his words?

“There’s no need, really. I wouldn’t want to bother you,” she said, her voice tinged with hesitation.“

If I offered, it’s because I don’t mind,” he replied calmly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Realizing she couldn’t argue any further, (Y/N) let out a soft sigh before leading the way toward the fruit and vegetable aisle to finish the last items on her list.

They walked side by side, exchanging occasional word, letting the silence fill the rest.

Not far from them, two elderly women were whispering and smiling.“Did you see that young couple over there?” one murmured to her friend. “They’re so cute.”

“Reminds me of my husband and me when we were their age,” the other sighed, her voice tinged with nostalgia.

(Y/N) blushed slightly at the words, stealing a quick glance at Chrollo, who, for his part... showed no reaction at all.

Sometimes, she found herself wondering what it would be like… to be in a relationship. Sharing likes and dislikes. Talking for hours about anything and everything. Simply feeling at ease in someone’s presence. Being...loved.

Her gaze drifted to Chrollo’s back, a few steps ahead of her. And without even realizing it, she imagined living all those moments...with him.

Boom.

Her heart skipped a beat.That rhythm... she hadn’t felt it in years.

Not since Rio.

Author’s note : I reread the manga recently, and Chrollo and the Troupe deserve a bit of love 🥹

Tag list : @queenmimis

[nefertiti-wright]

A Story between The Librairian and The Thief

Chapter 6

At the sound of her waking alarm, (Y/N) let out a heavy growl. If there was one thing she hated with every fiber of her being, it was waking up.

"Good thing I love my job," she muttered to herself as she got out of bed.

he headed to the kitchen, where she found her cat, Sunny, sitting beside his bowl of kibble, impatiently waiting for breakfast.

"You're really greedy, aren't you?" she sighed at her four-legged companion.

After finishing her own breakfast, she headed to the bathroom. Settling under the warm stream of the shower, she let her thoughts drift back to the conversation she'd had with Chrollo in the park the day before.

Had she gone too far with what she'd said? After all, she was just a stranger in Chrollo ’s life. They had only known each other for a week, and yet she’d asked him to be sincere with her.

"What a stupid girl I am," she growled.

Snapping out of her thoughts, she turned off the shower, grabbed a towel, and got dressed.

After tidying up a few things, she left the appartement, her cat trotting alongside her on the way to the bookshop.

She couldn’t help but think she had probably made Chrollo uncomfortable… and that he’d never set foot in her bookshop again.

The thought made her chest tighten.

Chrollo was the only person with whom she truly shared her passions, the only one who listened to her ramblings without finding her boring or cheesy. He was also incredibly intelligent, and their conversations were always filled with something new and exciting.

She felt good in his presence. And the thought of never seeing him again... terrified her.

She desperately wanted him to stay. To talk with him about the latest books he had read and loved. To dive into topics no one else ever thought to explore. To debate philosophical questions, and to hear him laugh, even when her jokes weren’t funny.

She wanted to discover Chrollo in all his complexity, not just the polite man with the calm gaze and impeccable clothes, but the man beneath the masks.

“You like him, don't you?” Haley’s words suddenly echoed in her mind.

She shook her head sharply, trying to shake off her friend’s words.

No, she couldn’t love Chrollo. Not like that. She had only just met him.

What she felt was a connection… a kind of complicity, maybe. Nothing more than that. Or at least, that’s what she was trying to believe.

When she arrived at the shop, she settled Sunny comfortably on her desk, as usual, before heading to the back to dust the shelves.

She cleaned each item with care, moving slowly and patiently. When she reached the next shelf, she let out a heavy sigh, it was a particularly tedious and meticulous task.

But deep down, she didn’t really mind.As usual, she took her time inspecting each object, amusing herself by guessing its value, its origin, and above all… its history.

She imagined the hands that had held it, the lives it had touched. This was her favorite part of cleaning. Even though she often indulged in this little ritual, it always brought her a strange, almost soothing sense of satisfaction, as if, through these objects, she were traveling just a little.

She froze when her eyes landed on a strange, damaged golden relic. Drawn to it, she picked it up and turned it over in her hands, intrigued by the worn, timeworn details etched into its surface.

"This relic represents the hidden location of Majan’s treasure, doesn’t it?"

The sudden voice behind her made her jump.

"Jesus Christ, Chrollo ! You’re going to give me a heart attack, one day!" she exclaimed, pressing a hand to her chest.

Chrollo laughed, clearly amused.

"I'm sorry. So, did I get it right?" he asked, nodding toward the object with a slight tilt of his head.

"Not really. It’s just a loose interpretation of Majan’s story. Honestly, it’s not even a real relic," she replied, carefully placing the item back on the shelf.

Then she turned around… and froze.

Chrollo was standing right behind her, so close their noses nearly touched. Her heart skipped a beat. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks, burning, uncontrollable. And suddenly, like a wave crashing through her thoughts, Haley’s words echoed again “You like him, don’t you?”

She opened her mouth to speak, desperate to break the silence, to say something. But the words died on her lips when she met Chrollo’s gaze.

Burning. Piercing. Unreadable.

His dark grey eyes seemed to pierce straight into her soul. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest, she was sure he could hear it. Sensing the tension thickening, almost suffocating, she abruptly turned her face away.

Then, in a slightly nervous voice, she asked, “So… you know the story of Majan?”

"For God’s sake, why am I stuttering? He’s going to think I’m such weirdo! "she thought, irritated by her own confusion.

But Chrollo didn’t seem to mind at all.In a calm tone, he replied, "Yes, I’ve heard of it. They say Majan was a pirate as cunning as he was feared, and that he hid his treasure on a forgotten island, one wiped from all maps. An island that can only be reached through a special power."

He paused, his gaze still fixed on her. "Some say the treasure isn’t made of gold… but of something far more precious. A truth. An ancient artifact. No one really knows.That mystery, that possibility, is what makes it so fascinating, don’t you think?".

Stunned, (Y/N) shook her head and let out a small huff. “Wow… I didn’t expect you to know so much. You��re a real scholar.”

Chrollo couldn’t help but laugh at her words. “I’m flattered. But I could say the same about you. Your bookshop is a true sanctuary of discovery.”

(Y/N) smiled softly. "I’ve always loved pirate stories," she said with a spark in her eyes. "So the legend of Majan really fascinates me."

She continued, more animated now, "Some versions even say he used magic, not just to hide his treasure, but to defeat his enemies too."

“Magic, huh?” Chrollo repeated softly, his gaze drifting into the distance, as if momentarily lost in thought.

"Could it be… that Majan was a Nen user?" he mused silently.

(Y/N) broke the silence with a small shrug. “Well… no one’s ever been able to prove it. Or witness it with their own eyes, really.”

Chrollo stared at her for a moment, then suddenly asked, his voice lower, more serious, “And you? What do you think?”

Caught off guard, she hesitated before answering. “Well… I think the treasure exists. But personally… I wouldn’t want anyone to find it.”

She looked up at him.

Chrollo tilted his head slightly.“Why?”

(Y/N) drew in a slow, steady breath. “I think the treasure meant something deeply personal to Majan. Why else would he go to such lengths to hide it? If it was just to feed his ego or his greed… that would be pointless. No, I think it was something more. Something that mattered to him.”

Chrollo absorbed her words in silence, letting each one sink in slowly. Then, a faint smile curled at the corner of his lips. "I didn’t expect such a perspective… but thank you for sharing it. I, too, believe the treasure he protected held a meaning far greater than gold or riches."

His gaze lingered on her for a moment, soft, almost tender. "And I intend to find out why," he thought, a mischievous gleam flickering in his eye.

He glanced at his watch, then said with calm courtesy, “I’m sorry, but I have to go. It was a real pleasure talking with you.”

He turned and began walking quietly toward the door, but (Y/N)’s voice stopped him in his tracks.“Chrollo, wait!”

He stopped and turned around, surprised, his eyes quietly searching hers. (Y/N) took a deep breath before speaking, her voice a little unsteady. “About yesterday… I just wanted to apologize again. I think I might’ve been a bit too direct. Maybe I said things that made you uncomfortable, and that really wasn’t what I meant to do.”

She paused, her eyes locked on his, refusing this time, to look away.“ It’s true that we barely know each other, and I’d understand if you wanted to keep your distance. But… I really enjoy spending time with you. Your conversations are different. Refreshing.”

A small smile tried to form, but her voice remained steady. “I do have friends, of course… but with you, it’s… something else.” She drew one final breath. “So… I’d like us to be friends. For real.”

She fell silent, heart pounding, watching closely for the slightest flicker of expression on the grey eyed man’s face.

Chrollo stepped forward slowly, his gaze never leaving hers, unusually soft, almost tender. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. On the contrary…I’m grateful that you’re interested in what I have to say. And as you said earlier… it’s refreshing.”

At his words, (Y/N) felt warmth rise to her cheeks, but a wide smile spread across her face. “So let’s be friends, Chrollo !” she said brightly, holding out her hand with cheerful determination.

Chrollo stared at it, momentarily taken aback. His eyes widened slightly, as if the simple, honest gesture had caught him off guard.

Then, slowly, a small smile curved his lips, and he took her hand, with a lightness that felt almost symbolic.“Let’s be friends, (Y/N).”

Tag list : @queenmimis

[nefertiti-wright]

A Story between the Librairian and the Thief

Chapter 5

(Y/N) observed the restaurant where it was located. It was an elegant, chic place with art deco decorations.

The walls around her were adorned with stylised floral motifs, along with mirrors in decorative metal frames. In the center, there was a bar with a large marble table and vintage-style lights.

The jazz music floated through the air, evoking the feeling of being transported into a movie straight out of the 60s.

"So why did you bring me here, of all places?" asked (Y/N), looking at her friend Haley, who was sitting opposite her.

Haley looked up from the card she was inspecting and flashed a broad smile at her friend. "Guess who's going to present the September auction?" she said simply, her excitement evident.

(Y/N)'s eyes widened at the news. "No way!" she exclaimed happily.

"Yes, you're looking at the auctioneer who will be in charge of the famous Yorknew auctions in a few months," the blonde said proudly, puffing out her chest.

"But the auction isn't until September, and it's only January! How did you find out so quickly?" retorted the bookseller.

"Well, it's not that far off, and besides, I have to study the items we're going to sell," Haley replied, followed by a sigh.

"In fact, I've already started my search, and among those treasures will be the famous Greed Island game," she continued.

"You mean the game that's almost impossible to play, the famous Greed Island?" exclaimed (Y/N), just as excited as her friend.

"Yeah. Although I don't understand who would buy it, seeing as it's almost impossible to play. To think this game is worth over 100 million," Haley replied playfully, her glass of champagne in hand.

"100 MILLION!" cried the bookseller, putting her hand over her mouth as she realized they were in a restaurant.

"Now who's shouting, huh?" her friend said with a mocking smile.

"Well, congratulations Haley, you totally deserve it! I'm so happy for you!" replied (Y/N), beaming with pride.

"Thank you! Now, enough about me," she paused with a serious look before breaking into her sly smile. "When were you going to tell me about that guy from earlier?" she continued, still wearing that goofy grin.

"That guy... you mean Chrollo? Well, he's just a new customer who’s recently arrived in town, I suppose. I don’t know much about him, except that he likes old books, like me," replied (Y/N) awkwardly.

"You like him, don’t you?" Haley asked bluntly.

Upon hearing these words, the girl in front of her blushed and stammered, struggling to find an answer. "Of course not! I hardly know him, and besides, you know I still have a crush on Rio, so..." she stammered, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

Hearing Rio’s name, her blonde friend couldn’t help but roll her eyes before replying, visibly annoyed "Him again... You really should move on, you know. That loser doesn’t deserve you, and you know it," Haley scolded her.

(Y/N) had expected this reaction, as Haley and Rio simply didn’t get along. They didn’t particularly dislike each other, but they were like oil and water, totally incompatible.

Haley thought Rio was arrogant and too flirtatious, exactly the kind of guy she couldn’t stand. As for (Y/N), she couldn’t entirely blame her, because, after all, Rio could be a real jerk when he wanted to be.

"Anyway, this Chrollo seems much more polite and intelligent, and he likes older books, so that's cool. You should go for it with him; you never know, it could lead to a beautiful love story," Haley insisted, looking at her friend as if trying to send a message.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm clearly not his type..." She didn't finish her sentence before her blonde friend snatched her glass of champagne and plate.

"If you talk about yourself like that again, you'll be without dinner and champagne for the rest of the evening, understand?" Haley growled, her beautiful features twisted in displeasure.

The bookseller couldn’t help laughing at her friend’s exaggerated gestures.

The evening passed smoothly, full of good spirits. (Y/N) was grateful to have a friend like Haley in her life. Haley had always been there to reassure her about her insecurities.

"Are you sure you don’t want a ride?" Haley asked from behind the wheel of her car.

"It’s fine, don’t worry about it," her friend reassured her. "I feel like going for a little walk, and the weather’s perfect. Might as well make the most of it."

Haley huffed at her friend's words, knowing there was no way to reason with her. "Fine, but text me when you get home, okay?"

(Y/N) nodded and waved goodbye to her friend.

Yorknew at night was alive. It was fascinating how the city never seemed to sleep. The neon lights and billboards flashed, bursting with bright colors, casting an almost unreal glow over the avenues.

The young woman continued her walk to the park near her home. She looked at the lanterns adorned with Christmas ornaments, which gave them a whimsical, childlike appearance. She made her way towards the small lake in the center of the park, admiring the magnificent reflections of the moon and stars.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” said a voice, startling her.Turning around, she saw that it was Chrollo. He stepped up beside her to take a closer look at the lake.

"Chrollo, you scared me," (Y/N) replied nervously.

Chrollo laughed for a moment as he looked at her, a mischievous glint in his beautiful grey eyes.

"Sorry," he replied simply. "I was out for a walk when I spotted you, so I approached you," he continued, his gaze now resting on the lake.

(Y/N) kept her gaze on Chrollo. Now that he was so close to her, she couldn't help but admire his features.

"He's really handsome", she thought.

Of course, she had seen handsome men before, but Chrollo was different. He was as beautiful as an angel. His pale skin contrasted with his dark hair, so black yet so soft. His emerald earrings reflected light in the darkness. What intrigued her even more was the headband that covered his forehead.

"Why does he wear that? He'd look better without it. Maybe he's hurt himself, and it's covering it up..." she wondered to herself.

"Is there something on my face?" Chrollo asked, cutting her off.

Surprised, she blushed deeply and began to stammer, "No... no, sorry, I... I didn’t mean to stare at you for so long, it’s just that..." The young bookseller stopped, searching for the right words.

"I can't tell him I was checking him out...",she thought."

Actually, I was wondering..." she began before stopping and swallowing.

"Chrollo, I’ve got this impression about you," she said calmly, causing one of his eyebrows to raise.

"What impression?" Chrollo insisted, trying to get her to continue.

"The impression that you're trying... that you're trying to bury a part of yourself," she answered at last.

There was a heavy silence, like a thick, suffocating blanket.

Chrollo continued, asking calmly, "And what makes you say that?"

She turned her gaze back to the lake, then spoke more assertively.

"I don't really know, but I had this uneasy feeling that you were searching for something. I can't explain it exactly, but it just feels... I don’t know how to put it into words." She paused, then turned her gaze back to him. "Chrollo, you don’t have to pretend. You can be yourself with me; I’ll never judge you."

(Y/N)'s intense gaze locked onto Chrollo's.

He froze, unable to answer. He never would have believed that the perfect mask he had spent years crafting would crack in the presence of a mere human.

"Does she have some special Nen that I haven't been able to detect, or something?" he wondered.

"I'm sorry if I’ve made you feel uncomfortable. I just want to get to know you better, and... and I’d like to be your friend," (Y/N) said shyly.

A silence hung in the air, quickly interrupted by the laughter of the man beside her.

"I'm really sorry if I gave you that impression. I promise, it's all right; I'm not hiding anything," he told her.

"I can sometimes be a bit cold, and I find it hard to open up to others. So, I understand why you might think that about me."

(Y/N) looked at him silently before offering him a gentle smile.

"I see. I apologize if I insulted you in any way. Sometimes I can be a pain about certain things," she said with an embarrassed air.

Before Chrollo could reply, the sound of breaking glass echoed through the air.

"Be careful, you idiot, you've spilled it everywhere!" shouted one man at the person who had broken the glass.

"I do what I want; you're not my mother, Yippee!" shouted the other, visibly drunk.

They watched in amusement as the drunken men argued before finally deciding to leave.

"I'll take you home; it'll be safer," Chrollo told him.

"There's no need to bother you, I don't live far," replied (Y/N), trying to reassure him.

"I insist. You never know with all these bad people hanging around," he replied convincingly.

Seeing that she could not argue further, they continued walking, their conversation filling the light silence of the night.

Tag list : @queenmimis