A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS, DAMSELS! Happy Holidays! <3
I hope y'all doin' just fine. Here's the usual update for the month. I apologize in advance for not giving you anything special, I also have personal obligations to attend to. I'll make it up to you guys soon :)
Enjoy the chapter, Hunters!
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Confederate: Unlikely Alliance Part 3
"Deeps breaths."
——
"Nike."
"Ah?" Nike answered mindlessly, her mind and hands racing as she pushed herself to work quickly so as to undo her restraints faster. However, this was not an easy feat considering she is with a very pesky Chrollo and bullets persistently rain down upon them in a thundering chorus. The Mafia Heiress could barely hear the master thief's voice amidst all the loud clattering of metal hitting metal.
"Do you really not intend to fight?" Chrollo asked with a tired sigh as he leaned against the sturdy steel wall they were currently taking shelter from the bullet shower.
"No, not until I shake these chains off. They're chafing my skin," she muttered, showing the bandit leader her wrists. True enough, the skin underneath the tight grip of the customized restraints was tainted with pigments of bright red and pink which indicated irritation.
Chrollo's calm features slightly twitched. Nike's skin has always been sensitive. How could I have not noticed?
"Are the restraints. . . too tight?" he asked.
Nike raised a brow, a playful smirk tugging the corners of her lips. "Silly. A captor would never restrain their captives with loose knots or easily breakable shackles," she said before she continued with a sarcastic tone, the smirk on her face instantly wiped away, "Of course it's tight, what do you expect?"
Chrollo raised a brow at her sudden change in demeanor. "I can help if you want."
Nike made a face of disapproval. "No. Go take those goons down."
"The others will take care of them."
"I don't see any signs of your underlings, so go take them down while I get these restraints off. I need total concentration, so it would be a huge help to mankind if you stop bothering me," Nike sighed exasperatedly while Chrollo stared at her silently.
The Mafia Heiress raised an annoyed brow. "What now?!"
The bandit leader continued to intently stare, silently.
Nike clicked her tongue and widened her eyes at him as a warning. Chrollo closed his eyes and look away with a cold sneer.
Nike scoffed. What's his problem now?
"You can handle those guys all by yourself, certainly. They're small fries and do not even pose as a threat enough for you to use Nen."
Chrollo hummed noncommittally. Nike's little bud of annoyance was starting to bloom.
"Lucilfer-san, what the fuck is wrong with you? Stop acting like a baby!" she said through gritted teeth, pushing him out of their hiding place. Chrollo wouldn't budge though, even as Nike struggled to exert much force.
"I want to see you fight again," Chrollo finally said.
"Psh. In your dreams, Spider. Not until I get these chains off. Then we can have another rematch as I chase you and your little followers out of my Mafia," Nike uttered seriously before resuming in tinkering and tampering with the thick cuffs wrapped around her wrists.
"You're beautiful when you fight."
"I was born beautiful, idiot. But I have to disagree, I am anything hut beautiful when covered with blood and bruises," Nike silently added, almost like a whisper to Chrollo's ears because of the nonstop clambering of bullets and gunfire.
"Violence suits you. I can't imagine you being Nike if you stopped killing," Chrollo said making Nike's hands enclose into a tight fist. The bandit leader took notice of her heavy breathing and how her eyes became bloodshot.
"Too bad, because I love to live down on people's expectations," she muttered with an apathetic smirk stitched on her face. "I'll pretend I didn't hear you say that," Nike added venomously, her eyes hinting a dangerous gleam before she turned her back on Chrollo.
One day, I'll break free from assassinations and blood spills. One day, surely, before I die, I'll make it happen.
Chrollo kept his gaze at her back. Did I offend her? The master thief shrugged to himself and decided not to ask. He was just stating his opinions; he doesn't see anything wrong with that especially if it's basically the truth. Nike was born and raised as an assassin, she lives as an assassin. If she ever stops being a killer, she would defy and lose her purpose for living.
A broken doll. Useless, the master thief thought to himself. He'd lose his interest in her if that happens.
As moments of only the howling rage of the bullets passing between them, the noise abruptly died down. Nike had been so absorbed in decoding the shitty code she needed for her shackled wrists that she didn't notice Machi appearing in front of her.
"The others are lazing around by the far side of the yacht. It would be best if we join them," she mainly spoke to Chrollo who only nodded.
"Very well," he responded before yanking Nike up with an arm.
Startled, the Mafia Heiress attempted to elbow him to the face, only for it to be blocked with Chrollo's free hand. Nike clicked her tongue and tried to get his iron grip off her arm.
"Didn't I tell you not to be too comfortable, Spider? Let go," she hissed and tried to yank her arm away from his hold but Chrollo began to tug her forward. He dragged her by the arm. Nike tried to protest; her arm's beginning to hurt from his incessant tugs.
"Let go of me! I can walk by myself, dammit!"
"If you will behave for the rest of the journey, I promise to stay approximately two meters away from you."
Nike scoffed, "I am not a dog, psh. I don't know what kind of behaved do you want me to be but if I get to be away from your finicky ass, then fine! Now, unhand me, asshole. You're hurting me."
Chrollo immediately released her from his grip and gave her a sideward glance. "Are you always this much of a complainer?"
Nike's sea-green eyes sharply met his metallic hues. "Are you telling me that I am an incessant whiner?"
"Are you?"
