Chrollo heard the littlest of bustles from the hallway; coughing fits carefully muted with covered hands, the feeble chime of stainless steel touching the marble sink, whispers of profanities and soles of shoes lightly skidding the tiled floor. Hurried but cautious sounds he would hear in the kitchen on a daily routine, as soon as the clicks of his shoes would reverberate on the hallway, followed by silence until he reached the front door and left the mansion.
He had played along with this one-sided hide-and-seek for two weeks, but not today.
He proceeded with the lax routine of dragging his feet down the hallway; and turning right to the kitchen.
Kurapika was within his sight as soon as he had arrived in the doorway. He appeared composed, leaning on the sink and; crossing his arms. Ruby eyes centered on Chrollo, shining with subtle vigilance, building up all his defenses for the man.
Addictive. Beautiful. Chrollo would always thought. Staring at Kurapika's eyes never failed to lure him in, like a siren's song. He would lose his rationality, a part of his mind murmuring unspeakable thoughts at times. Gouge them out, it would tell him, especially when they were at their most vibrant glow, the reddest shade where his strongest emotions would reside. He wanted to capture those rare moments and cage them inside a glass container, maybe even including the beautiful head where they were attached. But this morbidity would always be imprisoned within him, not because it was morally wrong, what he'd been doing his whole life paled in comparison to this anyway.
It would be a waste, he concluded, to reduce these valued eyes into a bedroom display that he knew he'd lose interest in sooner or later with its lifeless radiance. They were a better spectacle attached in a living body, producing different shades of red, depicting different kinds of emotions; a sight that he alone could relish.
After all, the owner was worth more than the eyes.
He trudged his feet until he was a meter away from Kurapika, standing across from him. Looking closer, he observed the guilt that the blonde struggled to dull behind those crimson orbs. There was also anger he'd been repressing in vain, perhaps for himself.
He noticed the way Kurapika's fingers fumbled on the fabric of his long sleeves; they were anxious, yet it was his way of relaxing. He might be proficient in veiling his real emotions, but some mannerisms of his ―mannerisms Chrollo had closely observed and memorized― wouldn't die easily.
"You drank liquor, again, I presume," he began.
The slight twitch of Kurapika's mouth didn't escape his eyes, the tell-tale sign of his defenses wavering.
He managed to maintain his coolness, hardening his stare towards Chrollo, "I did not," Kurapika replied.
Denial. It was a common defense mechanism for alcohol dependence. Even when he'd caught Kurapika hiding behind the curtains of his room, chugging down every drop of liquor in his flask; he would refuse to acknowledge his consumption of alcoholic drinks as excessive. 'I need this to calm down' Kurapika had reasoned to him. Chrollo predicted, despite throwing away all of the hidden stash, that Kurapika would still find his way of acquiring more. And it would lead to these sneaking moments where the blonde would secure a solitary drink of this addictive liquid.
He'd been going out, Chrollo was aware of that. But he allowed Kurapika to imagine he still had some freedom, a little hope for the escape he desired, so he gave him some leniency. Kurapika would end up coming back to him after all, and even if one day he didn't, there was always the GPS he'd injected inside the lad's body to track him easily.
Chrollo placed his hands in his pockets, raising his eyebrow. He slipped a tone of authority in his voice, saying, "You're not complying with your medications, or any of your treatments."
"I told you, it is unnecessary. I am not sick, and I don't need your help." Kurapika squinted, stressing each syllable of his words with disdain, "Never."
Chrollo shrugged. It was impractical to continue pressing Kurapika. He was used to the boy's stubbornness every day since he'd 'acquired' him. It had been roughly a month since he'd retrieved Kurapika from his abusive master, who forced the alcoholism on him. The bastard would shove huge amounts of liquor in the boy's mouth, even at a tender age, until he had developed dependence on it, all for his entertainment. There were also signs of physical abuse carved in the boy's body; neglect for his nutrition and other necessary needs. Chrollo settled this by killing every member of that bastard's famiglia.
Thus the right of ownership for Kurapika was transferred to Chrollo.
One would question why someone of Chrollo Lucilfer's caliber, the most influential and most powerful boss in the mafia world, would purchase 'damaged goods.' But most perplexing were the contradictory actions of Chrollo, who was well-known for being inhumane, yet he was concerning himself, even on a personal level, on fixing a slave; someone of the lowest societal status, whose only worth was his obedience.
Oh, if only they knew how much of a treasure this young lad was. How they would kill each other to attain him once they knew his real worth.
"Shouldn't you get going?" Kurapika asked, changing the topic for his own convenience. Chrollo sensed the repressed eagerness of the lad for his departure from the mansion.
"I guess," Chrollo replied. A spark of inspiration then hit him, "I just needed to check something."
Chrollo stepped closer to Kurapika, eliciting a flinch from him. The panic flaring inside the blonde was noticeable even to the naked eye the moment he reached out his hand towards Kurapika. He was about to swat away Chrollo's hand, but the man held both of Kurapika's wrists, pressing his thumbs on the center. He kneaded them lightly in a tight circular motion until the anxiety calmed down for a while.
Chrollo lowered Kurapika's hands, now cupping his cheek with a gentle touch. In a hushed voice, he spoke with reassurance, "I won't hurt you, Kurapika."
Even for a second, Chrollo saw the familiar glint of trust from those crimson eyes. He held the edge of the sink, just beside Kurapika, while he lessened the distance of their faces. Kurapika froze. But Chrollo continued, and carefully brushed his lips against his.
Smirnoff's. He thought. One of the cheapest vodka brands that could be purchased anywhere. Must be the nearest convenience store from the mansion. A keen choice of liquor to hide, given that it is odorless and could pass as water with its appearance. Chrollo had yet to determine how an underage like him was able to buy alcoholic drinks.
It was an unnecessary act, though. Chrollo could have just revealed the hidden flask of vodka in Kurapika's pockets to avoid triggering his traumas. But Chrollo wanted to test if he could go a bit beyond his boundaries, and there was always the curiosity of the blonde's response to his attempts of affection. And Kurapika didn't fail him to entertain him. Before the man could deepen the kiss, the lad had bitten Chrollo's mouth with an abundance of rage and repulsion, and it bled.
Chrollo pulled away, licking the trail of blood from the side of his mouth, wiping its remnants with his white handkerchief. He brought it back to his breast pocket. There was the threat of smirk in his lips, but he chose to stop it.
Kurapika spit the blood on the sink, and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
The stare of Kurapika was now lacking subtlety. He was glaring daggers at Chrollo, sharp enough to be a murder weapon if looks could kill.
"You'd rather destroy yourself further than let me save you," Chrollo said.
He raised the flask of vodka he pilfered while Kurapika was distracted. His eyes widened at the sight. Chrollo took off the cap, and spilled all the contents in the sink. He placed the now empty container beside Kurapika.
"Too bad I won't let you," Chrollo continued, "Not when I finally found you…" He recalled the years he spent searching for him, all those years he obsessed himself gathering information of his possible whereabouts. "…my dearest Kuruta Princess."
It was a landmine, a dangerous landmine for Kurapika which Chrollo would always dare himself to tread. That nickname was the reminder of how he deceived the lad in his younger years before he was turned into a slave, how it had led to this disaster.
"You―" Kurapika's voice was seething with anger, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the sink, "―destroyed me. How dare you tell me that?! You are the greatest threat of my life. Hah. I'd feel safer with that mother*cker you killed, than you. I know you 'saved' me to use me again, all for your own benefit."
Chrollo's hands crept up Kurapika's knuckles, feeling the palpable twitch. He had the lad caged within his arms, while Kurapika leaned back from Chrollo's face, struggling to escape from him but the man's grip was too strong.
"I wouldn't oblige you to call me 'Master.' But I'll have you reminded that you are now my possession and your life belongs to me," Chrollo said.
Kurapika leaned closer to his face, eyes blazing with determination and hatred; "I will have my freedom and avenge my family, Chrollo Lucilfer. I will destroy you ten folds of how you destroyed me."
Chrollo didn't even try to hide his smirk this time. He released his grasp from Kurapika, widening their distance.
Chrollo pat Kurapika's head, an affectionate gesture he used to enjoy the most with Chrollo's strong hands. "Wear your contact lens before sneaking out again, Kurapika."
This time the blonde was successful at slapping away Chrollo's hand. Chrollo deposited them back to his pockets, as he strutted his way to the exit. He stopped in his tracks when he reached the doorway.
"And do remember this." Chrollo turned around to face Kurapika once again. "My goal is to protect your life. It has always been that, even from the beginning, princess."
Credits to my beta reader for editing this!
Danchouswaifu/karamerupanda asked me to finish this, so I did. Ahaha. And to tell you I find it difficult going inside Chrollo's mind so yay for me for trying my un-comfort zone.
Btw, this fic was inspired from a scene in Sempre (Forever) by J.M. Darhower (If you're into mafias you can give this book a try, plus you get to know few Italian words here.)
There's the big possibility of multi chap here (some motivation and inspiration, more brain storming and more more more research then I'll start writing this. man this is so heavy.), and I doubt this scene would be included there (esp the alcoholic part.) So might as well post this.
