Chapter XXXIX

"What are you reading?"

Judging by the furrow of her brows, he will not get an answer.

He doesn't.

Sipping his coffee, Chrollo crosses the small apartment and sits himself on the end of the couch, with his little lady curled up on the other end, biting at her lip as she immerses herself deeper into the story. He watches her from the corner of his eyes, hiding a small smile behind his cup. It has been a very quiet night since they both picked up their books and started reading. It is now pushing towards midnight, the room illuminated by a lone orange lamp at one corner.

He shifts just so, putting his weight on the couch so that the young woman, unsuspecting and quite oblivious really, also shifts and rolls towards his end. She hisses and scrambles back up to her side, ignoring him. He chuckles, bemused.

"What are you reading?" he tries again. This time, she answers by putting up the book's cover so he could see the title. Another sip of coffee. He hums. "Paradise Lost, finally."

"You reproached me for not really reading," she counters, eyes flitting once, and then down to the pages again. "Now leave me in peace and let me finish."

"Of course. I have no intentions of distracting you anyway. I have my own book to read." To prove his point, he takes the volume from the round table and also shows the title cover to her.

"What's it about?" she asks, idle.

"Social revolutions?" he suggests and she wrinkles her nose. He laughs and lays across the length of the couch, his head coming to rest on her lap. "No, it's about two houses of families fighting for a throne. Half a century worth of battles and politics, of course."

"Of course," she mumbles, and once again, they fall into silence.

He settles himself on the couch, reading his book, while Valtiel is still occupied in her own. Nothing else sounds in the room but the constant quiet flipping of pages, quiet breathing, and the ruffle of fabric as Chrollo rolls, trying to get comfortable.

Valtiel's left hand strays from her book and down to his head, tangling her fingers through his silky raven locks. He all but purrs, basking at the lazy attention, as her fingers twist and pull gently at his bangs.

A few more page-flipping, and she goes: "Puissance, Danchou?"

Dark eyes flick cheekily at her. He grins. "It means power, darling. Prowess. Strength. Something along those lines."

She ignores his arrogance. "Isn't that a bit too archaic?"

"It's not that archaic," he says. "You're simply not that well-read."

She bonks him on the head.

"Ow!" He flinches and covers his forehead. "That's not very nice."

"Well, you didn't have to be so rude," she shoots back. "I was only asking. Besides, the word is indeed very archaic. What if a child picks up this book and reads it? He would not know what puissance means."

"And what would you do about it?"

Valtiel reaches to a drawer and produces a ballpoint pen. She starts scribbling on the book, despite the quiet protest coming from below her. She raises her eyebrow at him and puts down the pen with a rather proud smile.

"There," she says. "From puissance to power. Better, right?"

He takes her left hand and laughs against her palm. "You're impossible."

"You like me for it," she fires back, smirking down at him.

"Perhaps I do," he answers in his usual enigmatic way, though she does not seem to be paying any attention to him anymore.

He presses his lips into a thin line, trying to focus on his book, but finds himself distracted by her hand−rolling his bangs, tapping his forehead, fingertips lightly grazing and tracing over the curve of his jaw. He glances at her face−she's still too engrossed in her book−and wonders if she knows what she is doing.

He puts up a show of reading, but deep down, his paranoia washes over him in tidal waves. He knows Valtiel has misgivings about the Kurta Clan. That is not so surprising. With her need to know about every little thing, she is bound to research. What worries him most is the extent of her knowledge about the topic.

Does she know, are her memories back, does she remember anything else, did that monk's ability fail, she cannot be so good at lying, Paku should know, Paku will find out−

Again, he rolls, smoothing his cheek over her thigh. His book is now quite forgotten as he divulges deeper in his anxiety. He knows Valtiel, analyzed her long enough to know that she cannot lie to him, not like this. She is everything but a liar. Helpless in dangerous situations, but useful to ease his paranoia. Even if her words lie, her eyes cannot lie to him. He knows that much. Confidently knows, even.

If she somehow knows and she is putting on a brave face, then Chrollo is in trouble. He cannot let her go; he cannot simply watch her go on her merry way back to Lukso Province. He spent months taking care of her, this rarest piece of Kurtan treasure, and he would not lose such a specimen.

He needs her close again. She cannot go where he couldn't follow.

His dark eyes go back to her face. The orange light of the lamp illuminates her face in a soft golden glow. Under such light, her platinum blonde hair glistens, her own golden eyes brighter. Framed with thick pale lashes. Pale lips pursed as she reads. Set in a pretty head, she looks stunning.

Chrollo pushes himself up on one elbow. "Let's go out tomorrow."

As expected, her eyes flicker at him. "Out?"

"Yes. I remember there's a park at the center of town. Let's go tomorrow."

"Why? It's been a rainy week. You don't like the rain."

"I want to go out with you," he says simply. "We can read our books there. A good change in scenery."

"Mm-hmm. Right." She drawls out the last word, painstakingly unconvinced. She lets him stare at her for a moment, as she seems to draw out her options. She flips to another page, and: "Is this you trying to ask me out for a date, Danchou? If so, you're very hopeless."

"Hopeless?" He could not remember a time when someone turned down his advances.

"Whenever you seduce someone, you have your charm all the way to the max," she points out, curling on the couch again and pressing her knees to her chest, leaving the Spider head laid out on his stomach and pushed up on his forearms. "I have seen you at your finest works: all smooth and suave. Yet here you are−" She steals a glance and frowns at his ever growing grin− "asking me out so casually in your pajamas and bed hair."

"You want me to be formal?" he asks, tasting bile on the next word. "Romantic?"

"You know the word, but you don't understand the meaning."

"You women and your romanticizing everything." He chuckles and receives a pillow thrown at his face as a counter measure. He rests his chin on the heel of his palm and sighs. "I can be romantic, if you want," he says in mock challenge, earning another quick glare. "Here. I'll show you."

"Where are you going?" Valtiel narrows her eyes at him. He smirks over his shoulder and disappears inside the kitchen. She snorts and tightens her knees, toes wiggling in her socks.

A few moments later, he returns through the front door.

She glares at the things he has in his hands. "Are you for real?"

"What?" He blinks, tone very innocent. He settles back beside her with a cup of steaming chocolate drink in one hand, and three stargazer lilies in the other.

Smiling his most enchanting smile, he offers the cup first, and then the lilies. "Now, my lady, forgive me for the poorness of my gifts, but it is midnight and there is nothing to offer you but these tokens, unless I were to steal somewhere−"

"These are quite fine, thank you very much," she interrupts in a rapid undertone. She accepts the lilies and puts them down on the table. A hint of blush blooms over her pale cheeks. "Where did you get the flowers?" she murmurs under her breath.

"Ah, from the neighbor. She has quite a lovely garden."

"Oh, Danchou! Really!" She throws up her hands, exasperated.

"Should I put them back where I found them? I am afraid they'd wither in the morning."

"Tch." She clicks her tongue and buries her nose back to the book. "Never mind them."

He tilts his head, blinking like a curious black cat. He offers the cup and watches her take an experimental sip. He leans closer, arm resting on the seat's back. "Okay?"

"You're quite good at making chocolate drinks now."

"For good reason." He smiles. "You're the only one I know who loves chocolate drinks."

"Mm-hmm." She hums−eyes on the book, lips on the mug.

"We will leave for the park at sunset tomorrow," he rules as he returns to his previous position. He takes his book again and gently tugs at her thighs, pushing them down so he could rest his head. His dark hair fans out across her lap, and her fingers go back to combing through them.

He needs her close. He needs her where he could follow.

The silence starts again.

Sunsets are quite beautiful in this part of the world. With the historical buildings and their imposing domed and spiked roofs, they make the sunset look more enchanting, breathtaking. Well, he is certainly breathless now.

He follows behind his eager Kurta, a few steps behind her, as he takes his time to drink in the sight, admiring the old-fashioned architecture of the park, its trimmed hedges, flagstone pathways, and artfully carved statues and fountains. The trees are also in bloom, pale cherry blossoms creating a canopy over their heads. With a thoughtful hum, he knows these trees are the kind bred to bloom so late in the autumn, the kind that needs moist, well-drained soil. Cherry blossoms. Beautiful.

From this distance, he admires how his Kurta seems to blend with the scenery. Valtiel wears a short sundress, with flimsy spaghetti straps over her shoulders and crisscrossing her back. The white dress blends well with the pale roseate tinge of the cherry blossoms. She has her hair up in a half-ponytail, tied by a white silk ribbon. She looks as if she belongs in the scenery, so at ease with herself.

He contrasts her in his dark clothes: a dark grey shirt with another navy blue underneath, black pants and shoes, his raven hair loose over his forehead. Against this so much light, he could be a void, a black hole trying to suck everything.

Well, in either case, he is only here to enjoy the view.

Valtiel blinks excited round eyes at him. "Can we sit under that tree over there? Near the lake?"

He could not help but chuckle at her childlike enthusiasm. "As you wish," he says and follows behind her as she runs over the pathway and to the grass, skidding to a halt near the sloping lake's shores. He nods to himself, appreciating how the cherry blossoms and lake's glimmer frame the reddening sun. "Would you like to have your book now?"

"Yes, please." She stops idling by the shore and joins him on the grass. He spreads out a blanket and puts a basket beside him. "I finished Paradise Lost last night. Do you have anything new?"

"Hmm. I have something about Latreian theology."

She shakes her head no.

He produces another book. "Study of human evolution?"

She shakes her head.

"Biography of a war criminal?"

She considers for a moment, and then shakes her head.

He finds himself smiling wider. "How about a collection of haunted tales and poems?"

Her eyes light up. "Yes, please."

"All right. Give it back when you're finished. I haven't started that one." He tucks all the unchosen volumes back in the basket and takes out a tray of pastries. He never misses the quick brightening of her face. "We were a bit short of time, so I hope these would do for now."

"They would do very nicely," she assures him and picks a cupcake with a chocolate icing. She casts him a rather suspicious glance. "How much did it cost?"

"A quick smile and a wink at the cashier," he answers humbly.

"I thought so." She takes her book and returns to the lakeshore.

Chrollo blinks, wondering what has her attention so focused there. A few seconds later, he has his answer: a small family of mother duck and her babies, paddling to the shore while the young woman breaks crumbs from her cupcake and shares them to the ducks. He has this strong urge to roll his eyes, but refrains, somewhat cautious that the Kurta would see and that would ensue another argument.

Instead, he plasters a feigned cheerful smile as she peers over her shoulder. She is the one who rolls her eyes, obviously seeing through his show, and he laughs aloud.

He spares a final quiet glance at her direction, and then immerses himself in his reading. The warm autumn breeze swirls around them gently, the petals of the blossoms falling and winding in midair. He hears her soft laugh and looks up from his book. Valtiel is picking up the petals and showing them to the ducklings, at which point the babies think they are food and try to eat them. Chrollo grins at his Kurta's sudden dilemma of stopping the babies.

Behind his book, he nods to himself. Everything is in place. The scenery. The ambiance. Her good mood. That is the most important factor. If the Kurta is in a good mood, everything should fall into place.

He checks for the sunset. The sun is sinking on the horizon, behind the cherry blossoms, blending red-orange glow with the roseate trees. His Kurta is admiring the view. Good. Very good.

Time to get started.

"Valtiel," he calls out in his soft, soothing voice. She turns over her shoulder, blinking. He smiles and pats the space next to him on the blanket. "Come here. There's something I'd like to say."

Dusting off her dress, she ascends from the shore and sits on his left. "What can you have in mind now?"

He places a bookmark between the pages and runs a hand through his dark hair. He should not be nervous, but he knows he has but one shot at this. Dark eyes stare into her face. "I trust that you are familiar with the recruitment process of the Troupe."

The gears in her brain start working. "Yes," she answers, uncertain. "It is either someone kills a standing Troupe member and replaces them, or you will pick the replacement."

"Exactly." He nods. "With Yuan gone, the game for the Troupe has changed. In fact, it changes everything. The Spider cannot work so long with a missing limb. We have to reassemble. We have to regain our losses."

"Of course…" Her voice falters, her tone confused.

"With Yuan gone so unexpectedly, I would need to find a replacement. I would rather keep searching around for more powerful candidates, with the same caliber of the Troupe members." He smiles a wry smile at her, dark eyes catching the glint of the sunset. "But why would I keep searching when you are already here? And so close to home?"

"I don't−" She shakes her head, and he tries not to frown. There can be no hesitation in either of them. He understands that confusion is only a natural reaction to such a proposal. "Danchou, I don't think I am qualified to become a Troupe member."

"Oh? No?" He folds his knee and rests an arm there, then props his chin on his hand. He angles his head towards her, a sidelong smirk in place. She shouldn't be able to resist that. "Why not?"

"I am not strong enough," she says in a weak, terrified tone.

"You travelled with us. You accompanied us in raids," he starts to tick them off in his fingers. "You learned Nen and are of the Specialist type. You fought and reached the 200th floor of Heaven's Arena. On top of that−" He studies her face, noting the embarrassed flush on her cheeks. "On top of that, you have a very useful and interesting Nen ability. It would help the Troupe."

"If it's my Nen ability you want, I can lend a hand in missions," she says, very stubborn and always argumentative. Why does she need to make everything an argument, Chrollo would never know. "But, really, I don't think I can be a Troupe member. I don't think I could devote my time and effort in your… activities… criminal or no."

"Then you are turning me down?" he says, a bit disappointed.

"I'm very sorry." She smiles apologetically, the sunset gleam directly on her face. The red-orange blends with the golden eyes in her eyes−iridescent, enchanting. "I love the Troupe," she admits and he blinks at her choice of words. "I respect everyone in the Troupe, but I couldn't be a Spider. Really, Danchou, I can't. I don't think I can−"

"It's all right," he murmurs.

Upon sensing the anxiety in her, he stops his persuasion. She has to be in a good mood. He cannot be too demanding in this. Fear would push her away, whereas tenderness would draw her closer. He needs to be tender now.

"It's all right," he says again, smiling gently. "I understand. You and I would never see eye to eye when it comes to morals anyways."

"What?" she all but snaps, eyes narrowed.

"You're big on morals, are you not?" he mocks, feeling a bit of a tease himself. Despite his calculations for this moment, he is curious how long he could push his luck with her.

"Well," she retorts, "at least one of us is."

He chuckles deep in his throat. "Oh, fine. You have me beaten. You won't join the Troupe. Still, that would put quite a frown on Uvogin's face. He has been hounding me to recruit you."

She perks up at the name. "Uvo-san?"

He nods and she falls silent, as if mulling over his words and her options. Her eyes are on her fingers, fiddling them with the hem of her white skirt. Then, she straightens her spine and faces him again. He is amused; she shows no hints of running away from problems like she always does.

"I am sorry," is all she says. "But if Uvo-san wants my help, I could certainly give him a hand. Anyone in the Troupe can ask anything of me. Be it my Nen or anything else. But I still won't join."

"Pity." He stares up ahead at the deepening sunset. Only a few more minutes before the twilight sets in and the skies and silver stars appear. The air is fragrant with the scent of the trees. He purses his lips. If his initial plan to keep her close fails, then there is no holding back for the next plan.

Plan B.

Truthfully, he never runs out of options. In this certain situation, he has up to Plan H−which is massacre, really, but Valtiel doesn't need to know that.

Okay, Plan B.

He clears his throat to gain momentum and notices that she has lapsed into another reading round, nose buried in the pages of the thick omnibus. He rests his chin on his palm as he observes her entire profile, committing every inch to memory and for later use. He can use that face for persuading clients, that smile to lower an enemy's guard, those eyes to charm a possible opponent. And he cannot wait to use them to his and the Troupe's advantage.

Valtiel feels his intense gaze on her and looks up. "What, Danchou?"

It is now or never.

He moves closer across the blanket until they are inches apart, their clothes brushing against each other, his face angled just so he could see the confusion in her eyes. Unable to resist, he puts out his free hand and combs his fingers through her locks. She blushes at the close proximity and the gesture, and tries to squirm away.

His hand stops her from moving farther. "I have something else to tell you."

"Then, tell," she sighs, still trying to get away.

"Okay." He licks at his lips, suddenly finding the tension unbearably hot. He steels his nerves, prepares himself for many different reactions, and says, "I would like it if we see more of each other."

"What?" She blinks, her brain working on the words again. "We see each other now."

His head slightly drops in defeat. He does not anticipate her going to the innocent road. He closes his eyes for a moment, smiles despite the deep sigh, and faces her again. She is impossible.

"No, I mean, it would be better if we stay with each other more. Travel together. Do more things together."

It clicks in her brain.

Suddenly, she wrenches free from his grasp and bolts out of the blanket. She runs back to the flagstone pathway, back turned to him and the lake.

Chrollo, cursing under his breath, chases after her and gets another firm grip on her wrist again. He turns her around to face him.

His eyes widen at her glassy eyes, a sea of red-gold in her irises. He lifts her chin with an index finger and stares closer, in which a tear slips to her flushed cheek.

"You lie," she says, breathless. "You always lie to me."

"No," he hears himself contradict her. "No, Valtiel. No lies."

"But it means nothing to you," she argues, eyes closing and more tears fall. Her fist holds him by the lapels of his dark grey shirt, twisting at the fabric. "What game are you playing now?" she demands through her tears, voice strained and hitching. "Why do you always play games?"

"It is not a game," he says. He cups her face in both hands and swipes his thumbs underneath her eyelids. He leans down, inches over her face, his warm breath fanning between them. "I am not trying to trick you, Valtiel. Listen to me. Look at me."

She shuts her eyes tighter.

He brushes his lips over her lashes. "Look at me," he murmurs.

With an effort, she does as she is told. With him so close and peering down on her, she could search for lies. He knows she would do that; she always does that when she is suspicious. He hopes she finds none, for both their sakes.

"Would you stay with me?" he asks, moving closer still, their bodies flushed against each other. He feels her tremble at the sensation. "When everything goes into disarray and our enemies come to us, would you stay by my side then?"

"You know I would," she whispers. "I promised before, didn't I?"

"Yes," he agrees and cradles her face in his hands. She is so small against him, her back already arched so she could meet his steady gaze. How could someone be so fragile? He smiles again. "I would want you to be with me, for always, Val." He kisses her forehead and then rests their foreheads together. "I would want to be with someone beautifully brilliant, someone I truly adore−"

For the record, he is speaking the truth.

Valtiel's brows knit together. Her voice quavers. "Danchou."

He shakes his head, taking the reins in this one.

"I want to be with you," he says simply, dropping all pretenses that he had in mind earlier this afternoon. He is impatient with twisting the words when he could just say them aloud. "I want to be with you. I want to take care of you, Val."

He gives a breathtaking pause, surprising themselves with this sudden bravery.

Chrollo searches for her eyes again, and smiles. "I want you."

She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes. She is just as speechless as she is breathless.

"I want you," he repeats. "If only you would want me, too." For a moment, his armor, hardened over the years of missions and murders, slips away. "But do you want me, Valtiel? Do you want me as the Phantom Troupe leader or as the orphaned boy from Meteor City?"

"Oh, Danchou." For the first time, she chuckles. She relaxes in his arms. "Is that even a real question?"

"I just want to know." He frowns, a slight pout tugging at his lips.

"I would want you either way." Tentatively, she reaches out for his face and Chrollo leans into her hand, feeling the warmth pulsing in her skin. "You are both Spider leader and an orphaned boy. Why should I pick between those when I can get it the same in one package−the best there is?"

He grins. "Very nicely put."

"But I still don't understand. You want me?" She makes it sound like a horrendous choice.

"I do, and not just for your usual timid self." He grins wider when she snorts. "I want you for everything you are. You are brilliant and I envy your passion for scholarly pursuits. Really, I do." He brushes his thumb over her cheek. "You are passionate in everything, Val. I admire that. The Troupe respects that."

"And you want to be with me… as…" Her cheeks flare up as she blushes furiously at the thought.

"Why ever not?" He chuckles, snaking an arm around her waist to pull her flush against his navel. His other hand weaves through her hair, the thumb pressed behind her ear. "When two parties agree on the terms, if they both acknowledge what they feel about the other, why waste more time playing the innocent? Unless you want to draw this out and you want me to court you?"

"Court me?" she gasps, shocked at the bold term.

"I will court you," he promises. "Say yes now and I will court you for the rest of our lives."

"But…" She is shaking, he could see. And it worries him now. She swallows hard and stares deeply into his eyes again. Again, searching for lies. She cups his cheek and he turns his head for a light kiss. Her breath hitches in her throat. "No lies?"

"None at all. Why would I lie about something as important as this?"

She stands on her ground for a little longer, and then gives a little defeated sigh and comes back smiling at him. He tilts his head, wondering what that means.

Almost shyly, she mumbles, "Then yes."

He blinks. Once. Twice.

"What did you say?"

"I say yes, Danchou," Valtiel says more firmly.

"You do?" He could not keep the shock from his voice. He should have switched Plan B and Plan H.

"Yes."

In the back of his mind, he curses himself. Damn Plan H to Hell.

His shock turns into a dawning realization that−indeed−she said yes. Chrollo's dark eyes widen even more as he lets the realization sink in, sink in deeper until his equally dark heart flutters. He has won. He has won his Kurta and he could not be happier. She belongs to him as he belongs to her−and that makes his heart swell with pride and joy. He has her, she has him. They are together now. Against the world.

He takes her face between his hands again and mutters under his breath, "May I kiss you?"

Valtiel hesitates, only for a fraction of a second, and nods.

But he teases again. He dips his head down, hovering his lips an inch over hers, and glances at her eyes.

They stand like that for only a short while, until Valtiel finally gathers up her courage and tilts her head up for him. Chrollo dives in without another permission, molding his lips with hers as they had once done so many months ago, under a reddening horizon like this one. He buries a hand in her hair, tugging at the silk ribbon, and lets the half wave of pale blonde locks free over her shoulders and back. He tilts her head upwards, deepening the kiss.

She gasps, and then whimpers, soft mewls sticking at the back of her throat as she clings to his shirt. His kisses are eager yet gentle, setting her insides on fire like they have never been before. Or with anyone else. She answers every stroke with her own timid ones, still very hesitant, still quite unsure.

He chuckles as he senses her apprehension. He had dived too soon, too eagerly. With a reassuring rub at the small of her back, he settles to more sensual kisses, soft presses here and there, guiding her and soothing her anxiety. He pulls away, panting harshly with her, and tilts her head to the side to trail a constellation of kisses from her jaw to her throat. Her knuckles tighten at his shirt again, tugging quite painfully now, so he smiles and guides her arms around his neck.

Valtiel sighs beneath him. When he pulls back from her neck, he leans down for another kiss, taking her by surprise, for surely, he should have enough by now. Another unbidden gasp comes from her when he nibbles at her lower lip, while his hands rest on her hips.

All of a sudden, Chrollo's hands go under her thighs and lift her up, cradling her in his arms−as he tilts his head backwards and offers himself to her.

This time, it is her leaning down for a chaste kiss, her hands cupping his cheeks and tangling in his hair. She gives a soft pull, at which the Spider head grunts. She does it again, experimenting, and gets a delicious lick at her bottom lip as a reward.

She squirms. This is too much, too much intimacy for one day. She reaches up and kisses his cross tattoo. She shakes her head and pants over his open mouth, their breaths mingling together.

He catches the implication and settles her back to her feet, but not before stealing another tender peck on her lips. He smiles down on her, pleased at her disheveled hair and moist lips.

"You said yes."

"I did," she says, still panting. She has one hand over her heart, as if that would stop it from hammering so wildly. She closes her eyes and breathes in, and then out. She feels his hot hand on her cheek.

"Was it too much?" he whispers in a gentle, apologetic tone.

"No…" She assures him and searches for the right word. "It was… perfect…"

"I am happy for it." He embraces her and tucks her head in the crook of his neck. He puts his arm around so firm and tight and knows for sure that he would never let this one go. He lost Omokage and Yuan. He lost Rhanion. He sighs and kisses Valtiel's forehead. "I am happy you said yes. Are you?"

"Yes," she says, breathless still. She opens her eyes, and the gold of her irises are there for the taking. Iridescent against the sunset. "I am happy, Danchou."

"Chrollo," he prompts, teasing.

"Danchou," she returns, matching his gaming mood.

He gives a short laugh at that and catches her hand for a kiss on the palm.

The park darkens around them as the sun finally sets, giving space for the dark blue skies and their stars. The wind becomes harsh all of a sudden, and before they know it, a quick rain pours down on them.

They scramble out of the pathway and take refuge under a cherry blossom.

In the shadows, Valtiel hisses at him. "I told you it would rain!"

He just throws his head back and laughs.

When they reach the apartment, the downpour turns into a heavy rainfall. Both thank their luck for getting out of the park at the nick of time, Chrollo snatching the basket with on hand while dragging Valtiel across the streets with the other. It is well past seven when they return, panting from the running marathon, both partially drenched with rain and sweat.

They take turns in the shower. After changing into their pajamas and socks, they proceed to the bedroom where they could fall into another comfortable silence, leaning against the other while reading their respective books. Chrollo's side has a stack of unread books, while Valtiel has the tray of pastries from earlier open at her side, only at arm's length away.

She stands after a few minutes, makes herself a hot chocolate drink, and leans against the bedroom's doorframe to stare at the Spider head.

Chrollo lets her drink her fill of him. Then he rests on his pillows and smiles at her. "What is it?"

"Oh, nothing." She sips her drink and rounds the bed, aiming for her side.

"You know−" He taps his chin, eyes on his book. "Since we are now officially together, I would want to come into an agreement with you. Like, if you have something in your mind, there's no need for you to hesitate. I am here to help you, not distress you. And I am not a telepath: I can't read your thoughts. However entertaining a guessing game would be, it can be quite exhausting. So, tell me: what is it that has you glowering at me for the past ten minutes?"

Silence. Deadly silence.

Chrollo looks up from his book and wonders if he overdid it.

Instead of a glare, her face is thoughtful, nipping at her bottom lip. "What brought this on?" she asks, sincere in her curiosity and apprehension. "You never showed an interest until now."

"Correction," he says, shifting on the bed to face her. "I never showed blatant interest until now."

"Ach. What's the difference?"

"The difference, my dear Val, is that I never once thought of pursuing you until very recently." He wrinkles his nose upon having to remember it. He would rather not say, but he is the one who started the cannot-read-your-thoughts rule. He has to be blunt. "Until Hisoka, actually."

"Hisoka?" She sounds incredulous.

"Until you left with Hisoka I never realized I had to worry so much about you," he admits. "It was your first time without being with the Spiders, was it not? Everyone was alarmed and tried to follow. I played the part of the soothing figure, though in the end, it was me who was worrying the most."

"Everything went well with Hisoka-san," she says in the magician's defense.

"I know, though I heard some alarming reports from Uvo." His eyebrow raises as he shoots her a questioning gaze. He is not sure whether they should be having this conversation so soon. But it would ease his nerves. One less thing to trouble himself with. "There was a time when Uvo and his group came upon him naked?"

Valtiel blushes and waves her hand in midair. "No, it wasn't like that. Hisoka-san was just out of the shower and it was a coincidence, an accident, really. Hisoka-san means nothing by it."

He nods, spotting a poorly concealed lie, and lets the idea go. "Either way, your leaving the Troupe made me realize how I was worried about you." His eyes and voice soften, only for her. "How I wanted to be with you."

She snorts, as if she doesn't believe all this.

He lets out a defeated sigh. "Come on, Val."

Laughing, she sets her drink down, crawls across the length of the bed, on her hands and knees, as Chrollo reaches out for her, and wounds an arm around her waist. She nuzzles in his embrace, nose against the fabric of his shirt, inhaling his scent. His own nose is on her hair, smelling of rain and rosewater. He pulls her closer, and his other arm comes to rest on her chin, moving her head up.

The light of the lamp shines down on her face, on her eyes. He runs a thumb under an eyelid, watching in fascination when she closes her eyes−gold−and when she opens them again−still gold.

Chrollo Lucilfer wonders if she is really happy to be with him.

"You are so beautiful," he whispers. "Don't leave me, Val."

"I won't." She puts her head on his chest, presses an ear over his heart. She smiles. "I promise."

Author's Notes: Yay! Just updating on the eve of Chrollo's and Valtiel's birthdays! How has everyone been? I sincerely apologize for the lack of updates; life has been a hassle and my only way to relax (at the time being) is play video games. I'm starting to get back into writing, but it may take a while before I fully get myself out of this writers' block. Thank you all for your unrelenting patience and support for this story!

And now, finally—FINALLY—Chrollo had the spine to confess his feelings to Val! Though it's not exactly as conventional, I suppose this way of confessing to Val is Chrollo's own version, Leader of the Phantom Troupe style. My homeboy is really scared of losing her like the last time, so this confession (and Val's approval) makes sure that he can hold her down, even closer and tighter. *sigh* How very romantic of you, Danchou.

I will keep this short, though I hope this chapter finds all of you safe and healthy! I'll see you all in the next update—hopefully, very soon! *fingers crossed*