Chrollo's Angel

Chapter 7: Drunken Splendor

"There will be no new missions until next month, so feel free to do whatever you please. I was actually thinking of going on a trip next week, so if anyone is interested in tagging along please let me know." Chrollo announces.

"Where will you be going boss?" Franklin asks as Feitan flips open his butterfly knife and starts twirling it around.

"Seoul. There's a nen user there I'd like to recruit."

Seoul? He never told me about this.

As if reading your mind, Chrollo flashes you a cheeky smile, "And I'll be taking my sweet angel shopping of course." 

Oh?

"Shopping? You mean thieving." You jest.

"Oh, you're a comedian now? How entertaining." Chrollo remarks, biting his lower lip.

"Danchou, if I may..." Pakunoda interjects,  "I think we should all go. It could be a nice vacation for all of us."

"Sure, why not. Does anyone not  want to go?"

Everyone shakes their head.

"Alright. Group trip to Seoul then. Shal, please schedule our transportation."

"Yes boss." 

"Ladies, our hotel."

"Yes boss!" You, Pakunoda, Shizuku and Machi reply in unison.

"And the rest of you... please pack proper clothing. I don't want to see the same bloodied shirt 3 days in row Fei. Is that understood?"

"Fine." Feitan grumbles closing his knife.

"Any questions or concerns?" Chrollo inquires, folding his hands neatly over his lap.

"Yeah, actually... Who is the nen user you will be meeting?" Phinks replies.

"Hisoka."

Who?

"Danchou, you've got to be kidding! That dude gives me horrible vibes." Machi complains.

"I am not kidding and I hope you all will trust me as you trusted me with (Y/N)'s recruitment."

"But (Y/N) is a different story. She's not some psychopathic clown who's only allegiance is to his sadomasochism!"

"Machi..." Chrollo warns, sitting up straighter in his chair. "I appreciate your concern, however, he could prove quite valuable to our operations. I will not budge on this decision, is that understood troupe?"

"Yes boss." The troupe replies. 

"Good. Everyone is dismissed."

As the rest of the troupe files out of the darkened living room, you scoot your chair closer to Chrollo's and gingerly circle the back of his neck with your fingers. 

"Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks, within his bending sickle's compass come." You recite, no louder than a whisper.

"Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom." His gray eyes lighting up with pure delight. "Angel, you are the star to my wandering bark."

"And I shall guide you through the tempestuous storm."

"My, my, angel. To what do I owe this delectable surprise?" 

"I'm just in a really good mood today." You respond, getting up from your chair and taking a seat onto his open lap.

Putting his arms around your waist, he lays his tired head against your back and inhales.