domestic leopika has my entire heart in a chokehold rn.
Leorio wearing a dumb little apron when he cooks dinner for the two of them on weekends, joined more often than not by Gon and Killua. he’s not the best cook — isn’t actually a very good one at all, but Kurapika appreciates the effort, being the one to cook most nights that Leorio is up late studying or at the hospital. the other two usually have enough courtesy to at least pretend to enjoy the food, and the fact that it’s free certainly doesn’t hurt.
bickering just a little too loud in the produce section at the the grocery store, picking dumb little fights over which bananas are the right stage of ripeness or how many tomatoes to buy for pasta. none of it really matters. on the walk home, all is forgiven when it starts to rain.
on particularly rough work days, Leorio is quiet when he comes home. drops his backpack at the front door and drapes himself over Kurapika while he reads or finishes dinner or just lays on the couch and runs his fingers through Leorio’s hair, humming quiet songs that have no name. Kurapika has bad days too, sometimes. after nights when he doesn’t sleep, kept up by nightmares or possessed by some manic energy that won’t settle. Leorio is gentle with him then. forgoes their usual play fighting for soft voices and slow days. he makes Kurapika tea, draws him a bath and washes his hair when shaking hands won’t quite cooperate. Leorio would do that for him regardless.
they’ve gone through so much together. so much pain and anger, years of hardship and struggle to get where they are. now, the journey is in learning how to live slowly.
baratheonpilled
blakekathryn
andulkaphoto
theartofmadeline
prguitarman
origamiaround
jbbartram-illu
