Lucilfer (ChrolloxReader)

Chapter 67

Forgiveness—it wasn't mercy. It wasn't grace. It was much the same as forgetting, or releasing.

Would Kurapika ever overpower his unforgiveness?

I didn't want him to feel sympathy for Chrollo—that was an impossible task on his part. But he seemed unwilling to let go, to find himself in spite of the vicious trauma he endured. He'd let it consume him, and now, it was he who was being controlled, rather than him controlling his own. But it was also leading him to his grave, because as long as his goal was to destroy the Spider, Chrollo would never cease in his efforts to destroy Kurapika.

Even if it were possible for me to convince Chrollo not to hurt him, Kurapika won't stop. He'll never stop.

He had certainly become a slave to his drive. But I couldn't blame him. I couldn't blame anyone. Once more, everything was gray.

Blinking once, and then twice, I shook away the concerning thoughts, sending them back to their position of pouncing and forcing off the immediate affects. They would come back to mock me, of course, and they would surely paint the colors of my thoughts to be a bit more dismal, perhaps unconsciously, but I didn't wish to indulge them anymore. I had not the passion to indulge any deep thinking anymore.

Before gathering my things to leave the bathroom, I grasped my phone and bit down roughly on the inside of my cheek—the amount of times I'd been in a similar position played on repeat despite my pondering, the wispy sensation of remembrance towards the warmth of Chrollo's body pressed up against my backside while I read through messages, his chin on my shoulder and his hands linked safely around my torso. My brows furrowed at the present lack of that same reassurance, and involuntarily, one of my own hands dropped to my stomach, setting loosely over my clothed skin and imagining for a moment that he was holding me the way he always did, as though he would never let me go. I peered sadly down at my fingers, wishing, only wishing.

Releasing a shaky sigh, I turned my attention back to my phone and opened his messages. My lips twitched upwards on one side, and I leaned forward on my elbows over the countertop to read what he'd sent.

"Always, my only one. It is a fair exchange, I believe—you so often assign me a meaning greater than any I've ever tried to forge, or any I've ever been unable to understand. Perhaps I still can't comprehend it, but as much as you see me as your safe place, and as much as I will gladly continue to forever be your solace, you are my steadiness, as well. You've provided more to me than you will ever realize, little angel of mine. I love you.

"Please don't fret too much about when I'm able to answer—I apologize deeply for the inconsistency of my responses, and it is nothing to do with anything within my control. I promise that I'm making every conscious effort to call you when I can, because I, too, wish desperately to hear your voice. But I can call you very soon, my (Y/n), and I'll be sure to wait where I am until you've awakened to give you a chance to answer.

"Just know this: I see you as strong. I see you as capable. I am endlessly proud of you. And I am so sorry for whatever it is you endured yesterday morning—I wish I could be with you to dry your tears, pretty angel. I long for this to be over so that I can hold you again and make everything okay by melting away each and every one of your fears. I promise you that I will never leave you like this again, because where you go, I also wish to follow, and where I go, I always desire you to be at my side. And finally, please know that I hold no expectation above you concerning when you find the right time to divulge your anxieties. I am aware that you will tell me eventually, whenever you decide the time is right. Your worries are safe with me, my darling lover. As long as you love me, I am content."

His lengthened messages were surely a result of the fleeting moments he earned to speak with me, but I only adored them even more for that fact. My throat ached slightly towards the end of the text, and my mildly swollen eyes did sting a bit, but it wasn't despondency more than it was a breathless reassurance, a relief and a further tug on the remnants of unfeelingness left in my mind—he held no expectation.