Sanctuary (Chrollo x OC)

12. Morning Banter

The pillow was fluffy, made of soft cotton, the blankets were warm and soft. When Azuma was roused form her sleep by the bright light of day and obnoxious cries of birds, she did not mind. Because, she thought, this must be the best morning.

It was comfortable, really comfortable. She even had a special source of warmth right next to her. And it was a very beautiful source of warmth. With creamy porcelain skin, closed eyes with lashes that could rival the most holy of angels, a chiseled face to resembled old Greek statues, and some of the softest hair Azuma ever had the pleasure of touching.

Wait...

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Isn't there something wrong here!?

Azuma snapped awake with a gasp of near-horror. How the fuck was Chrollo here, in her bed, no, why the fuck. Still in the morning haze, Azuma quickly released her iron grip, and promptly kicked Chrollo onto the softwood floor; throwing the blankets off both of them.

Chrollo's grey eye instantly snapped open, and he made an attempt to right himself. But his attempts were in vain, because he landed straight on the floor.

Staring, Azuma spoke with icy words. "Chrollo, just what, in the name of maple syrup, were you doing in my bed?"

With a small tilt of his head, Chrollo blinked, and then answered. "This is your fault."

"Hahhh?" Azuma practically growled. "Mind explaining?"

The raven haired man in front of Azuma smiled. It's almost creepy; how it can look so real yet never reach his eyes. Instead, Azuma notes, Chrollo has an almost dark look in his eyes.

"Well," His voice drips in mock venom. "do you remember last night?" There's a playful irritation in his eyes.

"What do you think?" The black haired woman rolls her emerald eyes. If she remembered how the hell Chrollo ended up sleeping next to her, she wouldn't be asking. Chrollo should know this—she wishes he would just get to the point—she supposes this must be karma coming back to haunt her for all those times she purposely has left Chrollo without answers.

"Do you know how iron your grip can be?"

"The point, Chrollo."

"Or how the human mind functions on exhaustion?"

"Chrollo, get on with it."

"Sometimes, when a person is exhausted, they can make rash and; excuse me for my frankness—"

"I swear to every god, Chrollo—"

"rather stupid and pointless decisions."

It's at about that point when Azuma pulls a knife from under her pillow and throws it. The gleaming blade of polished iron embeds itself in the wall with a thunk—right beside Chrollo's head. A small bit of blood comes from the slight nick to his pearly skin. Azuma almost feels like it's a shame to damage that skin. Azuma can see how his beautiful grey pupils just slightly dilate, and suddenly he isn't too keen on continuing.

A sigh. "That isn't fair." Chrollo states.

Azuma only hums.

"Fine, okay, I'll tell you properly." Chrollo still doesn't seem too keen though. "Last night, you came home exhausted." Azuma does not miss the use of home to describe her house. She wonders if Chrollo noticed. A deep sense of satisfaction crawls up into her heart.

This sense of satisfaction is quickly forgotten as Chrollo continues his story. Azuma's face grows pinker by the second—had she really done that? How embarrassing!

"I was trying to leave but you-"

Azuma coughs, loudly. "Well...that's enough of that. I understand." She had to cover her face form how flustered she has become. Oh gosh, showing herself like this! She needs to regain her coll. Wait—is that a smirk on Chrollo's lips? Yes, that is totally a smirk.

-

After all that, Azuma decides to actually apologize. Because—no matter how much she likes to tease, or how much she doesn't like to apologize—she does have honor. However, Azuma also nearly wants to take it back when the only response from Chrollo is a smirk that stretches wider than the sky.

Which is why Azuma is currently being as slow and painful as she possibly can with the treatment of Chrollo's ear. She is purposely prodding and poking at the inflamed skin, all the while brushing her hands through his velvety black hair. No; she's most definitely not being petty. But she is enjoying the flight pink flush she spots at the top of Chrollo's ear.

As of now, they're supposed to be eating breakfast. Azuma has eaten a bit, but took it upon herself to treat Chrollo's wound right away. But her fun is quickly cut short when the man shoves her away with what seems to be the smallest tint of pink, and insists he can do the rest himself.

With a sigh, Azuma shrugs.

Anyway, there are more important things to do. As an example; telling Chrollo about the festival. Azuma is about to bring it up, when Chrollo does the work for her.

"So," Chrollo closes his eyes and the pink, dusting fades completely from his cheeks. "You were going to tell me something?"

Azuma hums, a smirk making its way to her lips. "Indeed."

She doesn't elaborate.

"..."

"And? What about it?" Azuma asks, as if she doesn't already know.

"..." Chrollo's unimpressed grey eyes bare into her.

"Mkay." Azuma nods. "Never mind it then."

"Azuma..." The words finally leave Chrollo's lips, slow as molasses. "What were you going to tell me?"

A wave of satisfaction brushes through Azuma. "The day after tomorrow," Azuma starts. "we're gonna attend a festival." She revels in the small wave of surprise that crosses Chrollo's face.

He takes it in stride. "When do we leave?"

"In an hour."

"Oh." Chrollo blinks. "...I see."

-

Mhmm, sorry—this chapter is pretty short. But uh yeah.