Lucilfer (ChrolloxReader)

Chapter 52

I felt my jaw draw tautly in response to Illumi's disdainful acknowledgement of me, almost as though it were some previously made assumption. There was no malice behind it—not in the way I'd been called "pet" before—but it still ground my bones together to hear it at all. It gave the impression of being used, of being less than, of not owning full autonomy from another.

Chrollo doesn't think of me that way, I reminded myself defensively, though my hand at his abdomen still clenched into a loose fist.

Actually, Chrollo remained still, unspoken and staring blankly up at Illumi. He'd told me before that they've known one another for quite a while—perhaps he was gaging the situation, or how dangerous it would be to enter into a conversation with the assassin, especially since he was at that club with Hisoka. But Chrollo didn't know that part; I'd failed to remember to tell him so.

What if Hisoka follows him here?

If it had been terrifying before to wonder if I'd been targeted, that fear would be magnified times ten. Before, he had no idea who I was, or where I came from; now, he would know I was with Chrollo. He would find ways to keep tabs on me, the same way he did with Chrollo. The thought made me feel slightly nauseated, and inwardly, I begged him not to engage in a conversation with Illumi.

Luck was not with me, however—I watched as Illumi's pitch irises shifted back to Chrollo, and felt my body jostle a bit as he slid over on the booth, allowing Illumi more room to sit.

Dammit, I cursed, frantically hoping for an opportunity to to let him know that Hisoka was nearby.

"Her name is (Y/n)," he corrected matter-of-factly, absolutely nothing written in his expression, no emotion etched into his features. "I'd prefer if you didn't refer to her in such a degrading way, Illumi."

I wondered if Chrollo knew of his affiliation with Hisoka, if he might expect that if Illumi was here, Hisoka would be, also—their passionate exchange I'd witnessed at the barstools was certainly warranting of quite the past. If Chrollo knew both of them, perhaps he knew of their acquaintance with one another, though I wasn't sure that the term "acquaintance" would describe what I'd seen.

Illumi blinked, his black voids flitting towards me again, and then back to Chrollo, as if analyzing the two of us. His gaze never strayed from our faces, but I could see the smallest wisp of curiosity dancing within it. He was still for a few more drawn out moments, opening his lips in a contented sigh before lowering onto the booth cushion and moving closer, leaning on his elbows and staring out at the mulling crowds.

"This isn't your type of atmosphere, Chrollo," he stated, pulling a heavy lock of hair over his shoulder. "I'm surprised to see you here."

The way Illumi spoke was interesting—he carried no feelings that I could immediately pick up on, and his energy was very bland and quiet. But that would make sense, if he was Kalluto's older brother. Kalluto was much the same way, but in a slightly more childish manner, perhaps not as experienced. Because of this, I was all the more morbidly mystified by what I'd seen between him and Hisoka.

How far back does their past go?

If they worked together, it must have been quite a different relationship than Hisoka and Kurapika, with quite a few different circumstances. But in an odd way, they fit together—I couldn't tell why.

Chrollo's arm shifted from being propped up on the booth to wrapping around my waist, and he grasped my hand from his abdomen, playing distractedly with my fingers. My head was still laid up against his shoulder, and I watched with a small smile as he looked down at our hands.

"I'm here with a couple Troupe members, and (Y/n)," he mused, his velvety voice faint and diplomatic. "I wouldn't have come alone. But there is also supposed to be some sort of a small auction later on."