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“...Can’t sleep?” The question came, startling Kalluto from staring at the ugly splotch on the ground despite the gentle voice that had asked it. They met Chrollo’s eye, only a little embarrassed--It wasn’t the first time they'd been caught awake, listening to the turning of his pages and it would certainly not be the last.
About twelve feet away and propped up against a broken wooden box, they shook their head. Kalluto was tired, but sleep was scarcely available to them. Since they had joined the troupe, the young assassin hadn't let their guard down for longer than a moment-- This wasn't by choice; the spiders had warmed up to them without issue, one after another and before anyone knew it, Kalluto was a part of that strange, tightly woven and equally dangerous band of thieves.
The issue came in their father's voice.
Chrollo was still very new to them-- he'd only been back for a short few weeks after months on end of anticipation. Kalluto had yet to figure him out and they sorely doubted that they ever would; the man was enigmatic and the mystery is what gave them pause and curiosity both. Their leader was intimidating without a doubt, but it wasn't something Kalluto was able to put into words, not something they could articulate. The mantras the young assassin had been brought up on were a constant intrusive monologue in their head, painting their every interaction with the spiders, but especially Chrollo, in high anxiety.
A thoughtful hum. "We're in the same boat, it seems."
Kalluto faltered, blinking. Chrollo had a habit of reading well into the early morning-- they'd know, having often not found sleep until about then. They'd lie awake on the uncomfortable, dirty stone floor until the occasional flip of a page lulled them under-- they hadn't thought he wasn't sleeping because he couldn't, though.
"You too?" They asked quietly, disbelief tinting the question despite their best efforts. Kalluto felt more than a little embarrassed that they hadn't related those dark smudges beneath the boss' eyes to sleep deprivation.
Chrollo nodded, his slight smile hard to find with the shadowplay his candles cast, but definitely there. "More often than not." He answered on exhale-- not quite a sigh, but it came close.
That was a first-- Chrollo had not yet shown Kalluto such a side of himself and they weren't entirely sure how to process it. Conversations never really went anywhere with they and the boss; usually, only things like orders or information were passed between them.
It never made them jealous, per say, to see the boss engaged in friendly banter with the others... but it did leave its own sting. They didn't inherently have a desire to be on that level with Chrollo, but there was a curiosity.
For instance, the troupe's long-awaited reunion.
After Phinks had stopped sniffling, everyone had taken their turn greeting Chrollo in their own unique way, in a manner that boasted years and years of companionship and trust. The young assassin couldn't help but feel out of place, like they were in some way intruding on something very deeply personal, something far too intimate for an outsider... and they wondered, subconsciously, if they would ever be able to greet the boss like that.
Not that Kalluto hadn't found their place among the Spiders-- Kortopi was friendly to them almost immediately, asking to play games and fold paper cranes so he could copy them. Phinks took some time, but eventually warmed up and looked out for them like he did the others. Machi was very pretty and equally as powerful; after she'd taken to them, whenever Kalluto would come away with injury, she'd fuss over it, reprimanding them for being careless. She wasn't soft, but it was leagues more pleasant than their mother. Franklin was generally the most gentle, and Feitan the least, so on and so forth.
But they'd hoped, somewhere in the back of their mind, they'd be accepted by everyone and recognized by all of them.
"If you'd like..." Chrollo began when Kalluto failed to respond, "...I can read to you."
Kalluto balked. "...Read to me?"
Chrollo's expression shifted slightly. They could see him cycling through and picking out his words. "When I was younger, reading would help me relax and put me to sleep... I've kept the habit, but it's lost its effect, unfortunately. Perhaps it could help you, though." He gave a shrug.
After some initial shock, the young assassin blinked, settling solidly on apprehension.
A moment passed and Kalluto thought back to the scant few times Killua had read picture books for them and Alluka, how they would forget the world and be consumed by the fairytales... and nodded, hands balled in the sleeves of their kimono. It wouldn't be the same, and it would probably feel awkward but Kalluto was curious.
Curious if being read to would actually help, and curious about the boss in general.
"You'll have to come closer to me..." Chrollo said, motioning them forward and patting the space beside him. "...We don't want to wake everyone."
The mere thought of Feitan's sleepy and vehement glare had Kalluto at the boss' side in seconds flat, checking to see if the man had stirred.
The raised platform where the boss sat gave them a view of the entire room and Kalluto was sure that if they counted, they would find everyone else, all probably asleep.
Sitting cautiously at Chrollo's elbow, the young assassin mirrored how he leaned back against the stone wall, then folded their hands politely in their lap.
Stealing a glance up at Chrollo earned them a smile so wholly gentle that, for a moment, Kalluto believed themself to be fragile. "This is one of my favorites." He murmured, "I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I do."
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Chrollo read to them about a people called the Fae and their realm of trickery and magic. His voice was quiet and soothing--
Kalluto let their eyes flutter shut, lids heavy and hard to hold open anymore.
Chrollo's words painted colorful imagery against the blackness of their closed eyes, everything bright and vivid, everything fantastical.
They dreamt of dancing faeries, and of boundless adventure.
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Chrollo had read just five pages before Kalluto had effectively knocked out, sliding from their position against the wall to lean on him instead. His initial thought was to slide them back upright, but one look at their sleeping face gave him pause.
Would they wake should he shift them?
Tiny puffs of breath blew against his arm on the child's every exhale. The thief watched, leaned his head back against the stone wall behind them and closed his book.
This was Silva's youngest, and his newest Spider. He'd been cautious with them so far, but after only observing as the others interacted, he found himself hard-pressed to not join in and try to get to know them.
As he closed his eyes and hoped for rest, Chrollo wondered if they enjoyed the book.
He certainly had.