Lucilfer (ChrolloxReader)

Chapter 3

TW: MEMORIES OF PHYSICAL ABUSE/CONNOTATIONS OF SEXUAL ABUSE

The rest of our walk to the freshwater spring was spent in comfortable silence, just the dry sound of our footsteps breaking it as the loose sand turned to sediment the further we progressed. Part of me was slightly nervous about what he was planning on asking me, but another part of me wanted to trust him. I'd already decided that he hadn't been sent by my slave masters, and any other questions I might have, he vowed to answer honestly, so at this point, I really couldn't complain about him.

Chrollo must have noticed me attempting to use Feeler the night before. I remember seeing him tense up and then watch me curiously. His mouth had even opened a few times like he was trying to ask me something, but I was too focused on my Nen and otherwise too groggy to make out what he'd been attempting to say. Perhaps he simply wished to know all I had to tell him about my ability, and about what I knew of the strange dark energy in his heart. I bit my lip nervously.

We began approaching another cliff wall, but this time there was a larger cave-like entrance. My back straightened involuntarily as he led me inside. Craning my neck to look at the cave ceiling above me, I was shocked to see how high it was. The sound of echoing water drops bounced around the damp, rippling rock walls eerily, but there was a strange tranquility in the air.

Chrollo turned to the left at a fork in the path, and suddenly we were in a much smaller hollow, the water in the center seeming to glow just slightly with the little bit of daylight that made its way into the cave. I watched as the dark-haired man pulled the canister out of his interior coat pocket and bent down to hold it under the water, a few bubbles of air releasing as water flowed inside. Silently, I stood behind him, admiring the way this little cave felt separated from the rest of the world and its troubles, when I noticed for the first time a design detail on the back of his coat.

Of course, I wouldn't have noticed this when we were walking because he'd insisted that I walk beside him, but now that I did notice it, a few strange emotions surfaced. Embroidered in a dusty gold stitching over the heavy dark purplish black material was an ornate upside down cross. I tilted my head. Although I wasn't exactly surprised, given his lamentations to me about sympathy for Lucifer, which I didn't even disagree with, this sight made me incredibly and unspeakably sad. I couldn't say why if I had to; the feeling simply washed over my mind. I could see the agonies which had been so matter-of-factly endured by this man that I hadn't even been acquainted with for longer than twelve hours, as if he'd known nothing different, as if he was cursed from birth to endure them.

I hated to add it to my list of questions, because I didn't want him to feel like I was intruding on his personal life, and of course, if he didn't want to answer them, he didn't have to, but I was morbidly curious. He sort of already explained most of his philosophical ideologies the night before, but I felt like there were still some things I wanted to know. As if I even had a right to know them at all--I was lucky he decided to stumble across my passed out body and save me. My cheeks flushed at the memory of his arms holding me tightly to his bare chest.

It hadn't been to use me; it didn't make me feel vulnerable and exposed and weak in a negative way. It made me feel safe. I felt respected, like he really had been trying to bring me back to life.

"(Y/n)?" Chrollo had turned to face me and was now standing, his head tilted and his eyebrows cocked. "Is everything alright?"

I blinked and looked into his piercing gray eyes.

"Uh, yes." I cleared my throat and crossed my arms out of nervous habit. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"You were staring," he gestured to me lazily.