Soon after Kurpakia restricted Chrollo's nen, he finally resumes his main goal, to take back the crimson eyes of his fallen brethren, yet his mission comes to a halt when something unexpected happens, something that not even his scariest nightmares...
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The warmth that encompassed the male was nothing short of blissful. The comfort of the soft mattress cushions him in warmth and softness, almost tempting to never leave.
The very pads of his fingers brushed against the textured white quilt that was waited down on him, as he held it down gently against the said mattress.
Through the back of his eyelids, he could see the faint sunlight that was lightly censored by the girl's mesh curtains, sparing him most of the brutal gaze of the rising star.
The male held what was in his arms a bit closer to his body, spreading his body heat to the object that he held so closely to himself as would a child to a teddy.
The stirring male brought the said object in closer to his face as the rest of his body curled up a bit.
The male unintentionally inhales the plush object, the sweet faint smell of tea and ivy plants invade his sniffing nostrils, sending a wavelength of serotonin through his brain.
With his waking thoughts, the male smiles at the fact that suddenly everything smells like her.
The very sheets he laid upon, the weighted quilt, and even the bare air he got from sniffing the room smelled like her.
The waking eyes of the kurta began to flutter as he flopped to lay on his back, sending his right hand through his hair as his eyes got used to the brightness of his surroundings.
He knew she wasn't in bed with him due to the fact that he couldn't hear her faint murmur or the dip in the bed where her body would've been.
Sending signals to the rest of his body, the Kurta began to sit up, that is, till a dull aching made its way to his skull, causing the blonde to groan.
He didn't even drink that much from what he can remember, two-three glasses at most, he recalled the two of them making fun of Leorio and saying that he looked like a monkey.
He grinned recalling the memory.
A ghost of pressure laid upon his lips, slightly pulsing, he brings up his nimble fingers and feels the texture of his plump lips, feeling a bit sore to the touch not chapped but swore.
A quick flash of an image crosses his mind as he ponders his slightly swollen lips.
The image of (y/n)'s closeness, the tiny freckle under her right eye, the sparkle that was left in her eyes as she closed the distance between the two of them.
They had shared a kiss, a soft innocent kiss, although they were both drinking he doubts that it's what caused those actions to happen, to him they happened on their own unconsciously.
He would prefer to think that way anyway.
Did she remember? Does she still feel the same pressure of the ghost kiss on her own plump lips as he does? Or did she drink too much to not remember? Did she regret it?
