Rain (Feitan x Reader)

9

The blonde man disappeared from his side and returned to chattering with Franklin and Machi. His fists clenched even tighter. Would anyone care? Of course not. He thought. People outside the Troupe were deemed garbage and were worth nothing more than the dust in the air. So, why wouldn't he be the same if he left? He clenched his eyes shut from a sour memory pushing through his hardened defenses. He wasn't going to show them he cared about you. If he left the troupe, he wouldn't be shocked if Chrollo made sure that you were hunted down like an animal and killed, naturally. The thought of your blood made him feel some kind of way-- anyone's blood did. But the idea of never speaking to you again made his heart ache. He felt like he had to choose one or the other, but he couldn't. Should he ask for help or suffer alone? He lived to kill-- just the sight of those pathetic weaklings begging at his feet or threatening to kill them just made him smirk with glee. Yet, he didn't want that from you.

His eyes flickered again to the faltering sunset. It was inching close to the edge. He had to leave. It didn't matter that he had yet to receive a sign from whatever higher being he believed in. The thought of you leaving the world without even uttering a good bye to him was just too much for his heart to take. He had to go to find you. Even if it meant raising suspicion for his actions. So, he stood up. This garnered the attention of all members of the Troupe; their eyes, sharp and confused, stared daggers straight at his small form. He glared back, of course.

"I leaving. Job." He turned around, acting like the usual him like he should be. But his fists were clenched in his pockets. The sun was inching nearly half way down the clouds and it was the perfect time to leave. The time, however, was inconsequential; he had to go. He needed to go.

"Feitan." Upon hearing his name, he came to a halt. His nerves were chilled to the very bone at commanding tone. Usually, he wouldn't be nervous-- but he was. He was lying. But another fear outweighed that of his boss. He could lose her. He didn't want that. He glanced a little at Chrollo, yet his back still faced everyone.

"I know..." He muttered. "...I be back in few days. Job..." He turned away and continued walking. The sharp daggers of their glares pierced his back, but he gave no notice or care about it. The moment he knew they couldn't see him or sense him-- he began sprinting.

He ran like never before, as if flying through the air, never touching the ground with how fast he was going. As he ran, he pulled out the phone-- no messages from his informants-- and the more the seconds that passed, the more worried he felt. He chucked his phone back into his hidden pocket and focused on the horizon-- the sun inching its way to be swallowed up by the clouds. And if he looked close enough, he swore he saw rain clouds.