I don't like coffee. It's bitter and leaves a strange aftertaste in my mouth. The weird drink never fails to make my stomach hurt. Nevertheless, I drink a mug full every morning and don't complain a word of it. I'll always pay some three dollars to get a large cup, with cream, at Starbucks. It's more habit than anything else, really.

I don't like the cashier at the local grocery store. He's always slipping his number in with my change and chasing after my invisible skirt. Yet every week when I go to buy some food, I settle with a polite smile and giggle at the lame attempts he passes as jokes. He'll grin and whistle at my retreating back, and I'll hold back the urge to shout my actual gender to his face.

I don't like spiders. They're creepy and stupid, not to mention their symbolism in my past. My brother and I used to catch them in jars to scare the tribe girls. He had gone off to befriend a spider and hadn't come back. He never would. No matter how long I decided to hopelessly search for him. There are spiders crawling all over the house.

I don't like the color black. In my culture, it meant 'tainted' or 'impure'. Brother used to call it 'mysterious' and had taken to investigating anything black. Again, he befriended a black spider, he still couldn't come back. Even if I chose to go the ends of the Earth to look for him. Sadly, though, the house is painted almost entirely black.

I don't like Mondays. Getting up early after the weekend and dragging myself to work. But I'll urge my aching body to pull itself together to worm myself through another torturous day.

I don't like being told what to do. I understand that there are rules to follow in order to maintain peace. But by somebody who suddenly decided they had power over my own life? Sleep with one eye open.

Which brings me to the top of my hate list; I don't like Kuroro Lucifer. He's a roommate of mine and, though he's quite withdrawn every now and then, never lacks a teasing comment. Sly and fickle. Unpredictable. But annoyingly thoughtful at times. I also don't like the fact that he fancies sleeping in my bed over his. Have I tried sleeping on the couch? I woke up trapped between a Kuroro and a hard place. Along with a few dozen spider eyes staring shamelessly at us.

If I had to choose between living with Kuroro and in a cardboard box, I most definitely would have chosen the latter. But apparently, I didn't get that choice. This man just had to be the repetitive factor in my joyless life. There are five major reasons for my unfathomable hate:

One, he's not the roommate of my choice. He had been forced upon me by four of my friends, my only friends, when they decided I should get over my thirst for revenge. They had pleaded and pleaded until I reluctantly gave in.

Two, he has spiders. Not just one, but millions. He doesn't even put them in tanks, not that it was possible to house that many tanks. Just to further my irritation, Kuroro claimed that he didn't find the spiders, the spiders found him. They also kept Senritsu, my mother-figure, from visiting too often. She had quite the reaction when one chose to crawl into her line of sight.

Three, his favorite color is black. He wears black, has black eyes, black hair, black books. Heck, I bet he'd bathe in black if he possibly could. Whenever none of his Spiders are to visit and he has nothing to do or anywhere to go, he simply must have some black licorice. Sometimes, it'll temporarily stain his lips. That stain seems to always pass itself onto me one way or another. A stain on my clothes, a hue on my hair, a mark on my book, even a smudge on my cheek. Go on; choose a card, any card.

Four, he likes to whisk me away on a trip to get coffee. We'll end up at some place that serves coffee, which is pretty much anywhere, no matter where I want to go. I won't complain. The bill is on him, after all. I refuse to complain. Not even when he sits much too close as we drain our mugs.

Five, he loves to tell me what to do. He'll tell me to go the grocery store, where I will most likely run into that cashier, if he wants to be alone. He'll tell me to go with him to the library and, putting aside the book I wasn't even half-way through, I will obey. He'll tell me, with a whimsical laugh, that I overreact too much or look too deeply into things.

I do try to resist obeying without a thought. I do try resisting his wandering hands that always end up on my very ticklish body. I attempt to object to the way his lips attach themselves to mine. I'm not fond of his advances, nor the fact that I'll give in exceedingly quickly.

Now, I'm trying to keep my eyelids from dropping as my sweaty forehead falls against his chest. Kuroro's tongue flickers across my ear before he, with that smug chuckle, whispers, "Kurapika, tomorrow's Monday."

-END-

Yuuki: I have the weirdest dreams…and that's why I love drabbles! Anyways, do they even have Starbucks in Japan? Or…wherever in the HXH world Kura lives?

Killua: *sweat drop*

Yuuki: I'm too lazy to proofread *yawn* Llua-tan, do it for me.

Killua: it's not even 1000 words -_-

Yuuki: it's like 900 words! D8

Gon: Ne! I made an alien bat! ^;O;^

Yuuki: …review if you like the alien bat? =D ARIGATOU!