n. A feeling of loss upon finishing a good book, sensing the weight of the back cover locking away the lives of characters you've gotten to know so well.
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-Softcore alert
-Soft yandere, soft gore
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It was twilight as I entered my night shift in a small wooden bookstore café in the outskirts of the city. The sun fell in the horizon tinting the sky of poem-worthy colours, and the breeze felt cold in the lukewarm air. I opened the door to the store after taking one small look behind me towards the dying sun, a warm but slightly faded smell of coffee and book pages filling my chest. Soft classical music played in the background and I suddenly let all of my daylight woes fade away. Greeting goodbye to the day shift worker, I took place at the polished wood desk and lit up the chandelier in the guests section for the night.
As soon as they had gone, my once professional expression faded and I allowed myself to relax into the low leather chair, my eyes scintillating as I thought about the admiration I had for my workplace and how grateful I was for it.
Alone and circled by knowledge at dusk.
I couldn't have asked for anything better and the fact that I was getting paid for it almost made me feel bad for the owner! I couldn't help the smile that fluttered at the edges of my lips- not like I wanted to hide it to begin with.
I read notes from the owner about the work needed for the the night and went on putting ordering requests for books, catching glimpses here and then of the incoming darkness.
It had been about 30 minutes and I had just finished my orders when the delicate doorbell chime rang and my first visitor arrived for the night.
It was a tall man bearing a bandana on his forehead, his black hair resting comfortably against it. His presence enfolded me with both comfort and dominance- two opposites.
Regardless, I greeted him and lowered my head with a genuine smile, appreciating the comfort of the environment I was now sharing with the charismatic stranger.
He lowered his head with a soft smile and I found myself smiling even more from the reciprocated kindness.
I never liked working, I found it stupid and conformist- until I fell down into the world of arts and, concurrently, books. Money did not matter to me as long as I did something to either help others or myself- and that's what I was doing right there.
Seeing that he did not need my help, I got up from my chair, leaving my bag under the heavy wooden desk and went on with my work tasks, taking the opportunity to look at the books myself. Walking upstairs and arriving to the second floor, I took my notepad out and started noting either my future interests or the damaged books.
Going down to the café part of the bookstore downstairs, I started cleaning and taking notes of our stocks, eyeing my left to the entrance of the café section, craving attention from being so isolated all night.
As though hearing my prayers, footsteps arrived where I was and I lowered my eyes before lifting them up again to make it seem like I was not just crying out silently for someone's presence.
Upon meeting his eyes, I smiled brightly and asked him if he wanted anything.
« A ristretto, please. » he said in a gentle tone.
« A wonderful choice for an all-nighter »,
I giggled, « Coming right up! »
He scoffed a bit and leaned against the counter slightly whilst looking around the store, one eye staring at my back and my movements as I made his concentrated espresso with skilled hands.
« Have you chosen a book yet? If you need any help or recommendation I'm the girl you need! »
With a calm countenance he said:
« Most of the time I don't have a desired book in mind, I simply go by what talks to me. By any chance, would you be aware of the whereabouts of the arts section? »
I handed him his coffee and blushed with contained joy. I didn't know much about the man but I could tell he had wonderful tastes.
« Of course I do! Would you please follow me? If the coffee gets cold I'll make another one on the house! »
Leaving the coffee on the counter without a second thought, he walked besides me towards the far side of the store where laid glorious large stained glass windows.
« It's a good thing that this side is illuminated by the moonlight but if you need more light, I can bring you an oil lamp. The building is quite old so installing lights is a bit hard- that's why we tend to rely on natural lights. Oh, and if you feel cold I can try and do something about it, this old place, especially the far end, tends to be quite chilly at night.»
His eyes remained on me as I spoke, not once trying to rush me or cut my speech to answer my rambling.
Assuredly, he spoke in a refined and soft manner in turn: « That's quite all right little lady, » his eyes ostensibly turning into a tender yet devouring icy grey as they lingered into mine- « I am sure that if you stayed by my side the room would remain warm and bright. Would it be all right with you? I'm quite curious about your thoughts and said recommendations. »
Unable to stand his unwavering grey eyes any second longer, I turned my head towards the shelves, unaware of the blush creeping on my face- one which the observant man noticed instantly, a resigned smile tugging at the corner of his lips, almost in a mischievous manner.
And so, we talked about literature, poems and daily references which might have been mistaken for yet again more poems. His vast knowledge mesmerized me and I soon found myself opening up to the man, Chrollo, far more than intended or proper with a visitor.
He told me about his thoughts and I found myself resonating with him and his somewhat dubious morals (though hidden through carefully coated words). Alike me, he was not one for mystical stories but rather harsh-truth informative books.
And so, together we chatted about a dictionary of obscure sorrows and eventually the forgotten coffee on the counter. His gentle demeanour remained with a slight tint of playfulness and mind tricks and our laughter echoed in the empty store. The soft tone of music behind us matching with our soft reflective voices.
As dawn neared on the clock with heavy rain clouds, neither of us desired to believe we'd have to part so soon. And that was the moment he asked me if he could come back the next night I had a shift.
« Definitely. I'm not trying to say my nights are worthy of grief, but you certainly made this one the best one I've had so far. And... you could come back every future nights if you wanted to. »
Chrollo left three hours before the end of my shift after getting a few messages which left us with more than one interrupting notification. Notifications which he had ignored out of respect for me, from a 'coworker' of his.
It was 5am.
Out of all the smiles he had shown thus far, the one he showed me as he left was not only the brightest but also the most chilling one as he swore to me that he would definitely be back.
His words left me pondering for my remaining hours and even as I got my two early customers.
By now, I knew by our long conversation that Chrollo was not so much of a kind soul as I thought him to be when I 'first met' him.
His smile held lies and his eyes locked ice in a freezing cold and dark room. He may have been astute, but I was not an idiot for so much. Well-disguised lie after polite smiles and slips of personality, I knew that he was potentially dangerous but if his thoughts made him a danger, then I wasn't any safer to this world.
« one may smile, and smile, and be a villain. »
Shakespeare was too often right, and alas it is the villain's smile which got me caught in the spider's web. A small bloom turning into a prickly rose, capturing me and making my heart bleed to death-
All for young, obsessive love.
And that's alright.
~A smile cures the wounding of a frown.~
(Part 1?)
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Hxh X Reader
FanfictionThis story may contain triggering content. I will write serious and non-serious stories; feel free to give me suggestions on the presentation page! The stories I write are about many different characters but if you wish for me to write about a par...
