(Yan) “Chrollo, why were you crying before? ….Are you alright?”
tags: gn reader, yandere, chrollo being big sad and a little bit unhinged
In the dark shadow of the room, you could almost convince yourself that Chrollo is praying as he glances up at you. Sat hunched on the bed, elbows resting on his knees, hands folded against his forehead as his dark eyes open to meet yours. It would be a funny thought, if it wasn’t so unsettling to see a man of his composure unraveling before you.
For a moment he says nothing, and you wonder if you shouldn’t have said anything about it at all. If you should have stayed in the bathroom and pretended to busy yourself in the shower for another half hour. It feels almost violative to witness him in this state. Your hand itches to flip the switch of the bathroom light, plunge the room into darkness and wipe the image of that expression from your mind.
Chrollo stands and crosses the room in just a few short steps. His hands find rest on the curves of your cheeks, thumbs meandering along the lines of your face.
“I’ve lost someone very important to me,” he says. “Someone I should have been able to protect.”
His eyes are sad, too sad for a man of his kind. It’s wrong on his face, wrong on his body, for someone who’s caused so much grief to be crumbling under the weight of it himself.
“One of your friends again?” you ask.
“Yes,” Chrollo answers with a sad smile. “One of my oldest friends. And there is someone on this boat who is determined to take more from me.”
Your stomach churns nauseatingly. You aren’t sure if it’s the motion of the sea or the man in front of you causing it. Chrollo pulls you into his body, pressing his forehead against yours. He looks at you like he wants to absorb you through his skin. Catalog every detail, every sight, sound, and touch of you in the library of his mind. It feels too much like he’s bracing to lose it. To lose you.
“I see now that I’ve been an idiot,” he says. “Arrogant. An arrogant fool. I didn’t understand how close I was to losing all of you.”
Nausea. Cold, creeping nausea. You want him to drop this unfamiliar act, to become the strong and unwavering force he has always been to you. He can’t be weak. He’s made himself into the only support you have, and he can’t be weak now.
Something sharpens in his gaze.
“But I won’t make the same mistake again. I’ve been weak before, in a long distant past. Did you know that?” He smiles at you as you shake your head. “No, and I won’t be again, now or any time in our future.”
His hands tighten around your face.
“I will be anything, become anything, do anything it takes to keep what belongs to me.”
Nausea. Nausea. Your hands press against his chest in a weak attempt to put space between yourself and this man you don’t recognize. He can’t be this now. Fraying at the ends. He has to be your only constant. Your strong and unbroken constant.
At the pressure on his chest, Chrollo seems to find himself again. The edge in his eyes softens and he’s looking at you again like you’re his favorite dog, shivering while the thunder rages just outside your shelter. Firm hands press your face into the warmth of his chest.
“Chrollo, please. You’re scaring me.” The tremble of your voice muffles into the fabric of his shirt.
“Don’t be afraid, love,” he says. “Nothing is going to to take you from me. And if he tries to—“ his breath catches with a wave of emotion. The fingers in your hair tighten.
The air around you becomes thick with something powerful and suffocating, something cold and cruel that makes your joints lock and skin prickle. It fades as quickly as it comes, and Chrollo breathes slowly, deeply beside you. His hand caresses your hair in slow strokes, an imitation of comfort that does more to ground himself than to sooth you.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t cause you to worry about this.” Warm lips press into the crown of your head before he tugs you away from his body to look into your eyes. “You’re safe with me. You always are.”
There’s a knock on the door. He leaves you to turn and pluck his coat from the bed, taking the warmth of his body with him, and you are left standing in the chill of the room with cold skin and damp hair.
“I’ll only be gone a moment,” he says. “Dry yourself off quickly. We’ll be moving rooms again tonight.”
He steps into the hallway where another voice greets him, and the door clicks shut behind him.
Your hair is dripping onto the tile beneath your feet. Chrollo’s voice fades into the depths of the hallway, further, further, until it’s gone.
You lock the door with shaking hands.