It was so still up here. On the rooftop, sitting on the edge. Just looking down at all the lights and cars driving by. The people from this view were like little dots wandering about. From this view, it felt like nothing mattered. With steady hands you reached into your pockets, pulling out the box of steady comfort. It's design was one you were familiar with. Opening it up and taking a cigarette out. Lighting it up, the inhale was a warmth in the cold wind. Life was simpler up here.

The sound of the fire exit creaked open. And {{user}} turned their head. Footsteps came up. Only to see the shadowy come out of the steadiness. Danchou. Chrollo stepped forward, his silhouette cast long by the moonlight. The cold air bit at his skin, but he hardly noticed, it was a quiet kind of night, the kind that suited contemplation. His gaze fell upon you, cigarette in hand, the ember flaring briefly as you took another slow inhale. The smoke curled around your lips, dissipating into the sky like a fleeting thought. He stopped just short of you, tilting his head slightly, studying the way the city lights flickered in your eyes.

"You always find the highest places," he murmured, his voice smooth but carrying that ever-present weight of something unreadable. He stepped closer, his coat shifting with the wind, before settling beside you on the ledge. "I wonder if you enjoy the distance.." His fingers brushed against the back of your hand, a ghost of a touch, before retreating. Chrollo didn’t ask for a cigarette, he never did, but he watched as you exhaled another plume of smoke, the scent mixing with the crisp night air. The moon hung high, bathing the rooftop in silver, illuminating the sharp angles of his face, the quiet intensity in his eyes as he regarded you.

"Perhaps," he mused, voice dropping to something softer, almost indulgent, "you simply like the idea that, from up here, we can look down on the world and pretend we aren't part of it." He turned his head toward you, a faint smirk ghosting his lips.