Feitan didn't hear of a blind artist for a long while. Currently, a bead of sweat trickled down his brow, but it was hidden behind his long locks. His narrowed gaze flickered to the horizon-- the sun was still high up, an unusual occurrence for him to be awake now. It would take another two hours before it would set. He frowned. He needed to go, to search for her, but how, or when, should he go?

His steel eyes flickered to the group. They were chattering amongst themselves about the finished job. This time, they had ransacked a nobleman's house, just outside of the city, clean of every jewel and prize collection. Feitan figured it was the man's fault for picking a stupid place to live.

What mattered though, was Chrollo got what he wanted-- a rare, one-of-a-kind antique book.

Their mindless chatter never reached Feitan's ears. The sound was like a pestering fly buzzing around his ears, going through one ear and out the other. All because his mind was stuck on one person. He managed not to click his tongue to indicate his irritation. Where were you? Were you okay? He knew very well that you were still alive. He closed his eyes and placed his elbows on his thighs, sighing to himself.

"Tsk." His nose scrunched in irritation and he gave into the noise of such irritation. He hadn't asked for any help, he didn't want it. Still, he was worried. And he hated being worried- the feelings in his chest pissed him off more than ever. He wondered how he would stop this, this feeling of loss.

The Troupe had finished their job hours ago, but Chrollo didn't give word to make them leave yet. So here he was, acting like he cared about the meaningless heist. He chuckled softly to himself at the thought-- oh how things had changed in the matter of a few short months.

"You okay, Fei?" At the sound of his name, he looked up at the speaker and rose a brow.

"When you worried about me?" He asked, amused, almost smirking at the blonde. There a blush spreading across his cheeks, making it more fun for the short man. "Huh, Phinks?"

Phinks covered his face and growled at him. "That's the last time I worry about your sorry ass."

Feitan rolled his eyes. "Hn." He wanted to tease him more, but looking back at the faltering sun, he didn't need any more distractions. He would be damned if he lost you. His eyes flickered to the man in power, fists clenching on reflex. He wondered if Chrollo cared if he left.