Mimi 𓆩♡𓆪

The sound of breathing filled the quiet room. Kurapika laid beside you, one arm wrapped securely around your waist while his fingertip rubbed slow circles on your hip. Your chest rose and fell as flashes of what had just occurred returned to you in fragments — he was gentle, holding you with a tenderness you had never known, kissing you with the softness of a thousand feathers.

Even now you could hear the quiet sounds he had tried so desperately to supress, the tremor in his breath, the whimpers as he shook from pleasure.

He had let himself be entirely consumed by you.

The brittle hush of the breeze outside pushed against the window causing it to slightly rattle.

In the silence, you thought back to the day you first met Kurapika, the memory still sharp with clarity.

You had managed to be hired as a bodyguard for Neon Nostrade, the fortune-telling daughter of the newly established mafia boss Light Nostrade, whose ambitions had grown considerably larger than the modest fortune that had first brought his family into the underworld.

The sun had been shining as you stood in the Nostrade estate that morning, your hands covered in a thin sheen of sweat as you tried to appear less nervous than you felt. From the corner of your eye you caught sight of him, he was stood speaking quietly with one of the other guards whom you would come to know quite well as Melody.

One of the first things you noticed about him was how young he looked, there was an almost deceptive softness to his appearance. His radiant golden hair shone where the sunlight touched, making each strand appear impossibly smooth, it fell around his face in uneven layers as wisps brushed his cheeks. His clothing was a stark contrast to the dim room, a rich and vibrant blue threaded with golden embroidery curling across it like gilded veins.

You had found him quite handsome.

You hadn't realised you were staring until Melody's eyes locked with yours and the smallest smile appeared on her lips. Kurapika was soon to follow her gaze, his stare met with yours.

His eyes were near black, at least that's what you thought from where you had been stood, they were deep and glassy, like the reflection of the moon in water. His gaze, however, was still — it did not nervously flicker nor wander from you.

You quickly turned away and pretended to find interest in the view outside as you restlessly picked at the skin around your nails.

A few seconds later, your ears picked up the sound of soft footsteps before a gentle voice called out, "Are you one of the new guards?"

You looked to him, his voice is beautiful you thought. Hypnotic and delicate.

"Yes." You answered.

He studied you for a moment, "You're assigned to Miss Nostrade's security detail?"

"I am, yes."

"I see." He said, more so to himself than to you.

He didn't say anything for quite a while after that and you had began to wonder whether the conversation was over.

"How much experience do you have?" He asked.

You blinked, confused. He wasn't the one in-charge, not from what you had been told so what's with the interrogation, "Quite a bit."

"Could you be more specific?"

"I can assure you I am fit for this job..." Your voice trailed of beneath the weight of his stare, he simply waited and you sighed, "Well, I have decent combat training. I can handle hand to hand combat, I'm competent with weapons and I'm adequate at defence."

His expression remained unreadable, it made you feel uneasy, "Do you have any experience dealing with Nen?"

You harshly swallowed. You knew of Nen, you had spent enough time training to develop a reasonable understanding of your own abilities but experience was another matter entirely. "A little." Your answer was quick and blunt, hoping that he would back off.

He straightened up and his eyes sharped, "A little?" He repeated, slowly.

You felt your palms begin to sweat once again, "I know enough."

"'A little' isn't sufficient enough, are you aware of what your position entails miss..."

"Y/N."

"Miss Y/N, knowing enough and being prepared are not necessarily the same thing."

"I understand the risks." You fired back in defence of yourself.

"Do you?" The question was quiet.

You bristled, "Look, I wouldn't have been given this job if they thought I wasn't capable."

Kurapika regarded you in silence, god he's pretty but infuriating, "Hm, perhaps not." He continued rather calmly, "But being given the position does not mean you are prepared for every situation you may encounter."

You crossed your arms, "I understand, um I didn't get your name..."

"Kurapika." His answer was short and clipped.

"Kurapika, what exactly is it you want me to say?" You sighed.

"I didn't mean to insult you nor am I questioning your ability to perform your duties." He said, "But there is a considerable difference between being capable of protecting someone under ordinary circumstances and being capable of protecting them against an opponent who possesses a significant advantage."

"And you think I am incapable of handling that?" You exhaled through your nose.

"I don't know." His answer caught you off guard, "I guess, we'll just have to wait and see how we both do."

You had remembered the way he said it, there was no arrogance in his cadence but rather something else entirely; an earnest acknowledgement that neither of you could know what the future would demand of you.

You had merely smiled, perhaps a little too sweetly, and told him that you would do just fine.

You had thought Kurapika was far too serious, that he had appointed himself your superior before anyone had actually given him the authority to be one but you had been wrong.

You soon came to understand that Kurapika's concern had never come from a desire to control those around him, it came from fear. Fear of failing to protect the people who had been entrusted to him, you knew this because you had watched him become such a person, you watched him take command of the bodyguards after the untimely death of Dalzollene.

Kurapika had always been a strong-willed and determined person. He still remains so but there was a difference now, if anything the years had tempered his resolve into something sharper.

You turned your head to look at him, his eyes were shut as he comfortably rested against the headboard of his bed. His blonde hair was a dishevelled mess from all your pulling and tugging, heat enveloped your cheeks as you remembered the way he looked when he had made love to you.

But now, with his eyes closed, he looked so serene. His face bereft of its usual stressed expression — no frowned eyebrows, no crease on his forehead and certainly no sign of fatigue.

Your fingertips brushed a loose strand of hair away from his forehead.

His eyes opened, taking in your appearance as a gentle smile tugged at his lips, "You're still awake?" His voice was rougher now, softened by sleep and the remnants of everything that had passed between you.

"So are you?"

"I was asleep." He squeezed your hip.

"Were you?" You quipped.

"Yes." He hummed.

"You're a terrible liar." You shook your head.

His fingertip resumed its motion on your hip, "As you've told me before, Y/N."

Your breathing sped up as you felt him near you, pressing himself against you as close as he could get.

"It still remains true, Kurapika." You whispered.

His fingertip continued its slow, absent-minded circles against your hip. A gentle silence gripped the room, you shuffled yourself further into Kurapika's hold letting yourself feel his presence, his skin was exuding heat.

Then, after a long moment, he spoke, "Are you alright?"

You nodded your head.

He tilted your head upward so that your eyes would meet his, there was an ache in his, a careful uncertainty you knew was gnawing at him.

"I am alright, I promise Kurapika." You cupped his face, leaning in as you placed a quick kiss on his lips, he stiffened from it, "I don't regret what happened if that's what you are thinking."

He blinked a few times, his lips parted as he breathed out a sigh of relief and his shoulders visibly eased.

"It's just..." His voice began rather faint, "Y/N, you're being awfully quiet, I thought maybe—"

"No." You rushed in, "Rest easy, I promsie you tonight was...it was unbelievable." You placed a kiss on the corner of his lips, "You know, that's quite rich coming from you."

He tilted his head, "What do you mean?"

"I'm being quiet." You let out a small breath of amusement, "Have you ever wondered how I feel when you don't speak a single word for hours on end? I pass you a report, you glance over it, then you hand it back in complete silence and I get too nervous to ask you if there was anything wrong with it."

"If there was something wrong, I'd tell you." He responded as if it was the most simplest of things.

"Yes but I never know with you, Mr perfectionist."

"Those documents and reports are very important, Y/N, you know this." He lightly tapped your forehead, "They must be completed to the highest standard."

"Oh wow..." You lightly laughed, "Okay boss."

"Don't give me that." He sighed, pulling you closer to himself, your chests pressed against each other .

"What?" You innocently pushed.

"I'm not your boss anymore." He mummbled.

You shuffled back and sat up, leaning into his side, "You miss it though, right?" You teased.

"I do not."

"Liar." You watched him as the faintest crease formed between his brows.

Kurapika looked at you with an expression of such restrained disapproval that you almost laughed out loud.

"Is there a reason you're determined to test my patience tonight?" He said at last.

"I've known you for years,” You replied, "I think I've earned the right to 'test your patience.'"

"Is that so?" His hands placed themselves on your hips, "And how exactly are you going to do that?"

"Hm?" You bit your lip.

Kurapika watched you as your hair fell when you leaned forward, brushing against his collarbones. He felt your weight against him, so warm and devastatingly real; he needed you close to him like this, wrapped in his arms. Though he had never admitted it to himself until now, your presence had become the warmth he coveted, thread by thread you had undone the fear that idled in his heart, thawing away the cold that had settled there so long ago.

Slowly, but most assuredly, you had become a part of him.

Through the years spent working beside you, Kurapika had grown accustomed to your manner of being, learning your likes and dislikes, the little sigh you released when he would give you another report to review, how strong-willed and fierce you are. You had once been merely a colleague — a name among many on a page, a capable pair of hands he could rely upon but you had way of charming those around you with your kindness, it was almost sickening at first.

How you would place a steaming cup of tea beside his papers without interrupting him, when you would stay late into the velvet abyss of the night because you knew he would work himself to the dawn, you never once complained when he gave you stacks upon stacks of papers.

Perhaps it was somewhere between those times that he had gradually, so imperceptibly, fallen for you.

"Kurapika." You whispered, "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing in particular." He replied.

You pouted, "Tell me please, I can see it is something, you have that crease in your forehead."

"Just thinking back to when we first met."

"I was thinking about that too." You smiled.

"Yeah." He mumbled.

"I thought you were infuriating."

Kurapika frowned, "Infuriating?"

"Exactly that, do you not remember how you had overwhelmed me with all those questions? Do you know Nen? have you fought before?" You mocked his voice, "I mean, come on pika, do you think I'd have been given the job if I didn't."

"Pika." Kurapika smiled, "You haven't called me that in a while."

"Oh." You coughed out, awkwardly clearing your throat, "Sorry, it kind of just slipped out."

"I missed it." He whispered all too fast, heat rose to his cheeks, "I like when you call me that." He breathed in as he looked at you with his rich, brown eyes. There was a warmth nestled within their depths — a soft, honeyed gleam that when it caught the lamplight they appeared luminous.

You felt your heart speed up, thundering against your chest. You had always adored his eyes, "You have beautiful eyes, Kurapika." Your voice was a delicate breeze against Kurapika's burning skin.

You cupped his cheeks, brushing your thumb over his cheekbones as his eyes fluttered shut. He bathed in the tenderness of your hold, letting himself melt against you. "Your hands are so soft." He breathed out, "So warm."

With his eyes closed, he looked almost angelic and you could no longer fight the urge so you leaned in and placed your lips against his in a small kiss. He immediately leaned in, kissing you back with a quiet devotion that made your heart ache. His hand rose to cradle your cheek, tilting your head so he could deepen the kiss.

He drew back only far enough for his forehead to rest against yours, his breath mingling with yours.

"You know." You began, "I think I’ve liked you from the very beginning."

His eyes widened.

"Liked me?" He exhaled.

"It's not such a terrible thing, is it? I thought you were handsome."

"As well as infuriating." He said, trying to distract you from the very obvious pink blooming on his cheeks.

You laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet of his room, "I thought you were handsome all the time and infuriating sometimes."

His hand moved to grasp a strand of your hair, he spoke as he twirled it around his finger, "And am I still—"

"Infuriating? Yes." You quipped.

He bit his lip to hide his amusement. His gaze, then, drifted to your neck, to the marks of his passion he had left there, to the curve of your breast where he had kissed and lipped. He looked away, feeling himself grow shy at the memory. He recalled the soft whimpers that had escaped your full lips, the way your eyes rolled back as you breathlessly called out his name, how it had only intensified his all-consuming need for you.

"I think I've liked you from the very beginning too, Y/N." Kurapika uttered, softly. He could feel the beating of his heat thrum through each muscle and vein, but before you could respond he rushed out, "No, actually I love you."

It seemed like his words had stolen all the breath from inside your lungs, you blinked as you replayed them in your mind for what felt like a thousand times refusing to believe they were real.

Kurapika's expression morphed into one of quiet horror, taken aback by his own impulsiveness his lips parted as though he would take them back.

"You love me?" You said tentatively.

His ears turned red, "I believe I may have just established that."

You lightly laughed and he looked away feeling embarassed.

"Why are you laughing, Y/N? Don't laugh." He sighed.

You shuffled closer, catching his arm and gently pulling yourself into his side. He glanced down at you as you nestled against his chest, his arm settling naturally around your shoulders, "You're so cute." You mumbled.

"I am not." He replied far too quickly.

You lifted your head, catching the unmistakable flush spreading across his cheeks.

"I love you too." You confessed.

His eyes immediately returned to you, widening ever so slightly. When it came to intimate moments such as these, you had noticed Kurapika wasn't very good at hiding his reactions; a faint roseate blush painted his cheeks, blooming like the first light of dawn across a winter sky.

Your voice echoed again and again in his mind; gentler each time, so saccharine and dulcet yet it did nothing to calm his racing heart. His lips parted but no sound followed, what could he possibly say that would not betray the sudden tremor in his composure? Though he instantly knew in the quiet, disbelieving stillness of the night that he was beyond relieved you felt the same.

"You do?" His words shook with such disbelief, it seemed entirely unlike the usual composed man that Kurapika is.

You grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, "I do." Your voice was quieter this time, you squeezed his hand gently, "I've felt like this for a while but I never had the guts to tell you because I was terrified of what you'd say. You were always so closed-off, I never knew what you were thinking."

He continued to stare at you.

You let out a small breathless laugh, "But I think I always knew deep down." You continued as your thumb brushed soothingly over his knuckles, "Even when you were distant, buried in your stacks of paper and reports, when you disappeared for weeks on end with no word." Kurapika remained silent but you could feel his blood pumping excessively fast.

"All I ever wanted was you."

(art by Haru3433)

"Kurapika?" You said when it had been quiet for too long.

He blinked, coughing out, "Forgive me."

"For what?"

"I-um, I don't know what to say." He rubbed the nape of neck.

You pinched his hand, "That's alright I guess. I quite like seeing you speechless."

"I should have known you'd find some amusement in this." He shook his head.

"Of course I would." You nudged him, a teasing smile on your lips.

He lowered his gaze to your intertwined hands, letting himself feel your soft skin against his. This was different from when you both were intimate together, something about the way you held him so delicately made his mind rush with adoration for you.

You leaned into him, resting your head against his chest, hearing the beating of his heart.

"I suppose." Kurapika began, his voice smooth like silk, "If you have been honest with me, then I should return the favour."

You lifted your head, "You don't have to, I know how you feel."

"I want to Y/N, so please let me." Kurapika drew a slow breath, using your intertwined hands as a distraction from his frenzied thoughts, "I don't exactly recall when I had started to feel so deeply for you. I know that I respected you because you were so determined, even after I had thought you unsuited for the position you proved me wrong and then—"

"Unsuited?" You cut him off, sounding rather offended.

"I said, you proved me wrong." He exhaled.

You narrowed your gaze, "Yeah but still, I wasn't unsuited, that's mean."

"Alright, I take it back, you are perfect." He raised your hand up and placed a tender kiss on your hand.

"I know." You smiled, "Okay, sorry continue."

Kurapika laughed at that and it was a genuine laugh; you had never heard him laugh like this — so unguarded and hearty. His head slightly tipped back, his eyes closed as the laugh filled the room with a sweetness so unfamiliar, you couldn't help but just stare completely awestruck.

You had spent years wondering what he looked like when he was truly happy and now that you had seen it, you had never imagined it would be so beautiful.

Kurapika gradually became aware of your silence, his laughter quietened into a lingering smile, "What, is something the matter?"

"No."

"Then what is it?"

"Well, I've never heard you laugh like that before." You revealed.

His smile weakened and a familiar flush crept onto his cheeks, "I suppose you haven't."

"Do it again." You quickly said.

He tilted his head, "Do what?"

"Laugh like you did."

He started at you in a mix of disbelief and amusement, "You cannot simply ask someone to laugh on command, Y/N."

"And why not?" You retorted.

"Because that is absurd."

You sighed in disappointment, "Please."

"Y/N."

"Come on, Pika." You nudged excitedly, "Should I say a joke? Okay, listen to this."

You sat up lightly giggling to yourself, "Why did the book go to the doctor?"

Kurapika stared at you, "Why?"

"Because it had a bad spine." You said between little laughs.

Kurapika's eyebrows rose as he continued to stare at you in silence.

"Oh come on, you're no fun." You defeatedly exhaled.

"Hmm." He pulled you into his side, "That joke was just bad."

"Yeah, whatever."

He leaned down and placed a delicate kiss to your forehead, "We should sleep, it's late." He whispered against your skin.

You nodded your head in agreement, "Thank you for everything, Kurapika."

He tilted your head towards his and placed a gentle, soft kiss on your lips. When he drew away, his forehead remained against yours, "Goodnight, Y/N."

You smiled as he held you against him, his arms wrapped around you, "Goodnight, Pika."

His eyes softened at the familiar name. Then, the room was engulfed in darkness and silence filled each corner. Kurapika's thumb brushed over your cheek as your eyes fluttered shut.

Your breathing had relaxed beside him, each exhale even as your body surrendered to sleep. Your head rested against his chest as your body curled naturally into his arms. Kurapika's hand remained on your back, rubbing soothing circles in turn with the rhythm of your breathing.

You slipped the key into the lock, turning it until you heard the quiet click. The door eased open beneath your hand and you stepped inside, closing it carefully behind you.

"Kurapika." You softly called out.

You heard nothing but silence in response, after sliding off your shoes, you walked further inside his apartment with the bag of medicine clasped firmly in your hand.

"Kura." You called out again, your voice barely above a whisper — gentle enough so as not to cause discomfort but loud enough for him to catch.

Warm golden light painted the walls of the front room as you took a step inside. A small smile tugged on your lips when the familiar space came into view, it had been some time since you'd last visited yet everything was exactly the same. Perfectly organised with the sort of quiet discipline that made sense only to Kurapika.

Tall bookcases of dark walnut stretched along one wall, their shelves filled with volumes whose spines held titles on law, history, anthropology and ancient culture. Several volumes of large books laid opened on the coffee table with papers spilled beside them. A beautiful porcelain tea cup sat beside the mess, half-full of a drink that had long since gone ice cold.

Your eyes then drifted to the velvet sofa behind the coffee table and there you found him sprawled uncomfortably, one arm was folded beneath his head in place of a pillow while the other hung limply over the edge, slender fingers nearly brushed the floor. His long blonde hair spread messily across the dark fabric of the sofa in silken strands that caught the honeyed light like threads of gold.

He looked utterly exhausted.

His skin was tinted with a pale ghostliness, his breathing shallow and a little uneven. You quietly placed the medicine bag on the coffee table and calmly neared him, you reached out hesitantly and brushed the back of your fingers against his forehead. The warmth that greeted your skin made your stomach skin.

Before you had the chance to withdraw your hand, Kurapika stirred beneath your touch. His brow knitted faintly and after a sluggish moment, long lashes fluttered open. Dark brown eyes, clouded with sleep and fever, settled on you.

"What...uh." He cleared his throat, "What are you doing here?" His voice is laced with a dry strain. He attempts to grab your wrist but you move his hand back down to beside him, letting your fingertips drift over his warm skin before retreating.

"You're burning up, Kura." You whispered, "Wait here." You took the porcelain teacup and rushed to the kitchen. With a glass of water clasped in one hand and cool, damp washcloth in another you walked back to the sofa to find Kurapika now sat up. After making space on his coffee table, you placed the cup of water down and grabbed the thick wool blanked, draping it over his shivering body then you placed the washcloth on his forehead.

"Have you eaten anything?" You asked.

He coughed out, clearing his throat, "No."

You passed him the glass of water, "When did you eat last?"

He took a few sips of the water before answering, "I do not recall."

You bit your lip, "Right, well I can't give you the medicine on an empty stomach so wait here while I get you something."

"You really don't have to do that Y/N." He replied.

"And why not?" You sighed, "I wish you would just call me instead I had to find out you were unwell from Leorio."

Kurapika's gaze fluttered to his lap as he momentarily scolded Leorio in his mind, he deliberately didn't call you because he didn't want to be seen in such a weak and vulnerable state, especially not by you and he didn't want to get you sick either. But loud mouthed Leorio, had told you of Kurapika's situation and you being the ever-kind person rushed to his side.

"Leorio couldn't make it, he has a few patient appointments lined up for the afternoon so he sent me over with the medicine." You informed him.

"What about— "

"I was on the night-shift so it's all good." You smiled.

Kurapika frowned, "You must be exhausted, please you have to—"

You most definitely were exhausted but after working as a nurse for so long you had become accustomed to the familiar deep ache in your feet from working a 12 hour shift, rushing from one ward to the next and the sore stiffness in your shoulders from tending to the patients. Night shifts were on the mellower end however they still possessed their own difficulties but you wouldn't have it any other way; you adored your job as a nurse.

"I'll survive, Kura." You rolled your eyes.

He opened his mouth to object but you shot him a look, he leaned further back into the sofa with an exhale. "Keep sipping on that water while I make you some soup." You said as you cleaned up his coffee table, closing the books and stacking them up before putting them aside. Once done you glanced to him, "If I look in the fridge, it won't be empty right? Because I told you to go grocery shopping."

"It isn't empty, Y/N." He quietly answered, a flicker of warmth emerged in his gaze.

"Good." You smiled before leaving the room.

Kurapika listened until your footsteps faded into the kitchen. His gaze lingered on the doorway long after you had disappeared beyond it, he sighed as he scrunched up the grey blanket around himself.

He should have told you to leave, at least insisted that you should go and sleep after spending all night taking care of others. Yet here you are, still in his apartment now making him soup. He could hear the muffled clinks of pots and pans, the creak of wood as you shuffled through the cabinets and the sound of running water. For months he hadn't seen you, you both frequently texted and called here and there but he hadn't physically seen you in person for what felt like a lifetime. He was busy with his own matters and you were swamped with duties at the hospital.

Your eyes were laced with a similar tiredness to his own, Kurapika had noticed that immediately and it made him feel irritated, not at you but at himself and maybe a little at Leorio for telling you of his sickly state.

He rarely allowed himself to get sick, he had matters of upmost importance to tend to rather than to just let himself succumb to illness but he had failed this time.

And now he had you in his apartment taking care of him and he would be lying if he said it didn't feel nice beneath the irritation, only if it was just a little.

Through the months that he hadn't seen you, the memory of your smile became something perilously close to a lifeline. It lingered in the abyss of his mind, tender and gentle just as you are. He hated how well he remembered the curve of your plush, pink lips and how your smile always began at your eyes. The melody of your laughter was not too far from his memory either, encased inside his heart like a tune composed purely for him.

Kurapika understood it was a dangerous thing for him to commit such 'insignificant' details to memory with the same meticulous care he gives to his mission but you had never been insignificant to him rather you had entirely taken over him.

He ought to have forgotten but he could recall the exact cadence of your voice with humiliating precision. He remembered everything; you had rooted yourself inside him, winding around his heart like ivy embracing a forsaken stone.

And such is why he cannot allow himself to feel for you as immensely as he does, not when the shadow of his mission looms over him. He cannot permit himself to have a weakness, someone his enemies can terrorise him with. Oftentimes in the past he had dreamt of your demise, your cold, bloodied body in his lap as the last breath of life left you, he'd wake in a cold sweat, shivering from the image of your death at the hands of those he loathes most.

Yet something about the way you hurried over even when exhaustion consumes every muscle in your body, had made his stomach sink and heart tighten.

A fit of coughs tore from his throat, Kurapika hunched over in discomfort, "...pathetic." He muttered under his breath, taking the washcloth off.

"Kurapika, are you okay in there?" He heard you call.

He cleared his throat, "I'm fine." As the words left his mouth and faded into the air, he coughed again, louder and more aggressively.

He heard your footsteps and then you appeared at the doorway, a steaming bowl of soup grasped in your hand. Kurapika instantly caught the smell of ginger and garlic.

"Liar. You don't sound fine."

"I assure you—" Another cough interrupted him, sharp enough to wrench him forward. You steadied him with one hand gently placed on his shoulder.

He sat back and cleared his throat, his face sunken and weaved with discomfort, "I concede." He whispered, "...perhaps I'm not entirely fine."

You laughed lightly, "You think."

Kurapika watched as you sat beside him, "I know it's only soup." You said as you gently stirred with the spoon to help it cool, "But it'll settle your stomach enough to take the medicine."

He pressed the heel of his hand against his eyes, feeling your presence beside him. Affection was not a luxury afforded to a man such as Kurapika, one weakness was all the Phantom Troupe needed. They had taken everything from him once, he would sooner carve his own heart from his chest than allow them another opportunity.

Around you, however, his resolve seemed to falter.

"Here, drink it slowly it's still quite hot." You passed him the bowl which he took gladly.

He raised the spoon to his lips and drank in the warm soup letting the flavour rest in his mouth. He felt the warmth soothe his sore throat as his body bloomed with slight ease. Kurapika looked to you, your eyes watching him with a gentle fondness, "...it's good."

"Really." You smiled, "I'm glad because I did make it quickly and I was worried that it wouldn't taste right. I did try a little and to me it tasted perfectly fine but obviously I'm not sick so I couldn't tell if you would think the same." Kurapika watched as you rambled on, letting his lips curve into a soft smile as your voice carried through the air.

"Don't fret Y/N, it tastes good."

"Do you know any other adjective than good?" You teased.

"It's satisfactory." He replied, raising the spoon with the amber broth to his lips.

You frowned, "Okay...I would have preferred exceptional or delightful or—"

"It's perfect." He said cutting you off.

You smiled brightly before standing up, you leaned over and brushed your fingers against his forehead feeling his temperature but also sweeping back stray strands of his blonde hair.

Kurapika froze, letting the sensation of your fingers against his hot flesh wash over him.

"No better." You exhaled, "Finish the soup, I'm going to wash up the dishes."

"Y/N." Kurapika called after you, "Thank you."

Your expression melted as you felt a strange sensation in the pit of your stomach, a fluttering twisting and turning around, "You don't have to thank me."

"I do." His eyes met yours, "You already spent the night caring for those who needed you." His gaze lowered, "You should not have spent what little strength remained on someone like me."

You scowled, "What is that supposed to me 'someone like me' huh?" You shook your head, saddened that he would think such a way, "Don't say something like that to me again, Kurapika." Your voice softened, "I wanted to help you and I'm happy that I am. Caring for you isn't some burden you've forced onto me." You smiled at him, hoping to ease his tension, "If anything, I'm grateful you let me...okay."

He didn't know what to say, your words had rendered him speechless.

"You're my friend, Kura." Your voice was gentle, almost bashful, "Of course I'd come." You looked down at your hands for a brief moment, feeling the pattering of your hectic heart in your ears, "And friends are supposed to take care of each other, aren't they?"

Kurapika blinked, his breath caught in his throat upon hearing your words. Friend, of course — anything else was never possible. But it ate at his inside, the deeper he tried to bury the feeling the stronger it would claw at him.

"I— right, thank you again Y/N."

You turned on your heel and left for the kitchen, your hands heating up and your cheeks flushing a faded pink.

The sound of running water filled the apartment once more as you cleaned the dishes. Kurapika continued to drink the ginger and garlic vegetable soup, your words ceaselessly echoing in his mind.

"Fool." He mumbled to himself, taking another spoonful of soup.

How could he possibly give you a life of comfort and care, one he knew you deserved. You needed someone untouched by revenge and bloodshed, someone whose future was clear. A partner who would be there for you when you returned from an arduous shift at the hospital, greeting you with a tender, soothing embrace instead of silently wondering how many enemies had memorised your face simply because of him, of Kurapika.

His fingers tightened around the bowl of soup.

As the water rushed over your hands, you stared absentmindedly at the bowl beneath the endless stream, watching the soap bubbles gather before disappearing down the drain.

You couldn't focus on the task, your mind had remained in the living room beside Kurapika.

You frowned faintly, trying to make sense of the peculiar unease consuming you. Kurapika had always been just a friend to you, one of the greatest friends you have ever made and known yet for some untold reason the word friend tasted odd on your lips. The fluttering in your stomach, the flush on your cheek, the immense worry that clouded you when you heard Kurapika was unwell, the way you didn't let Leorio finish his sentence before you rushed over to be by his side. When did Kurapika become more to you?

You admired him, cared for him and even loved him as a friend yet calling him a friend today felt wrong to you.

You turned the tap off once the dishes were washed and then quickly dried them before rushing back to the living room with a bottle of water. The bowl of soup, half-finished, was placed on the coffee table and Kurapika was laid back, his head rested on the back of the sofa, eyes closed.

"Kurapika." You whispered.

He hummed in response.

"You've barely eaten anything." You muttered, "Your appetite's gone, hasn't it."

"Yes, I apologise."

"There is no need to apologise. At least you've had something, I can give you the medicine now and then you need to rest in your bed, this sofa isn't doing you any good."

Kurapika slowly opened his eyes. The fever had softened their usual sharpness, leaving the rich brown irises veiled beneath a haze of exhaustion.

You sat beside him, pressing the two tablets into the palm of your hand before looking to the blonde next to you, "Just take these."

You watched with quiet satisfaction as he swallowed the medicine with a few careful sips of water before setting the bottle aside.

"Come on." You stood up, smoothing the creases from your trousers before offering him your hand, "You need to get to bed."

Consumed by a weariness that settled deep within his bones, Kurapika's gaze drifted to your outstretched hand. Slowly, he reached forward as though intending to accept your help but his fingers wrapped around your wrist instead before either of you quite realised what was happening, he gave the gentlest tug. You sank back onto the sofa beside him and instinctively he rested his forehead against your shoulder.

A quiet breath escaped his lips, his hand lingered uncertainly against the fabric of your sleeve and then, betraying a vulnerability he would never permit in his right mind, his arm steadily came to rest around your waist. He was hugging you. He had pulled you into an embrace, it was almost featherlike and hesitant but still he was holding you against himself.

"Just...wait a moment." His voice was scarcely more than a whisper, roughened by fever and fatigue.

He hadn't meant to pull you closer and certainly not into a hug. The intention had not existed, not consciously and not in the ever disciplined mind of Kurapika. Yet beneath the fever that clouded his thoughts he had lost himself in the quiet sanctuary of your presence.

Maybe he had been desperate to hold you because somewhere inside he knew he yearned to tell you how he truly felt.

He knew what hatred could do to a person, what hatred had taken from him and he cannot allow the Phantom Troupe to take you from him too.

Kurapika was warm, you could feel the heat radiating from him as he held you. The fever was emitting through the fabric of his clothing, you could feel the weight of his forehead on your shoulder and the delicate touch of his arm around your waist. You wrapped your arms around him, one hand placed itself in his soft hair while the other held him.

"Kurapika." You whispered.

He did not offer a response, instead his grasp on you tightened, only slightly but you felt it and your breath caught. This was unlike him, Kurapika did not initiate hugs, he was not one for physical touch at all.

"Is everything okay?" You brushed his hair, "I'm here, you can tell me." Your voice was so sweet it sickened him, so honeyed, "Is your fever worsening? Let me see." You tried to pull back but he wouldn't allow you.

You felt his shaky breath on your shoulder.

Silently you let him hold you, minutes passed and neither of you had moved an inch.

"Kurapika...?" You voice softened, "Don't fall asleep here."

"Hm." He hummed, "I won’t."

"Will you at least tell me what's wrong?" You urged.

"Does something have to be wrong for me to hold you?" He mumbled against your shoulder, "Can't I just hold you?"

Your heart ached, of course he can hold you, in-fact you wanted nothing more than for him to just hold you but he had never done this before and it surprised you.

"I suppose not." You answered as your fingers continued to move gently through his hair, something you were doing absentmindedly but Kurapika went still.

He breathed in harshly, letting his mind echo with the words he longed to tell you before he finally sat back. Your hand fell from his hair as you looked to him, his eyes were drowning in tiredness.

"Will you allow me to be selfish?" Kurapika faintly asked, you barely caught the words.

"Selfish?" You repeated, confused, "What do you mean?"

His gaze fell from you, the silence felt like a chasm surrounding you both as you waited for him to continue, impatience gnawed at you. The amber light from the lamp flickered softly against his pale skin, illuminating his features and illustrating the fatigue etched beneath his eyes.

His fingers curled slightly against the fabric of your sleeve.

"You have always been kind to me." He said though he had not looked back at you, "Perhaps a little too kind."

"Kura..." You voice drifted off.

"Please." He calmly whispered, his cadence like a mellow breeze, "Just allow me to speak."

You formed your lips into a tight thin line, falling silent.

"You have become a thought I cannot dismiss." He looked to you, "Y/N."

His hand fisted your sleeve.

"I remember things about you that I have no reason to remember." The outline of a humourless smile touched his lips. "The smallest details, things that should be meaningless but they are not meaningless, not to me."

You blinked in a blend of bewilderment and shyness upon hearing his words.

"You are remarkable."

Your lips parted, breathing out shakily, "Oh."

Kurapika closed his eyes, "I merely meant that your compassion for others is remarkable.

"I don't understand what's happening but thank you, Kurapika and I—"

"Wait, please wait a moment." He rushed out, "I have spent months convincing myself that what I feel is temporary." His voice was steady, calm yet it held a frantic edge as if he believed he was running out of time, "The human mind is capable of extraordinary self-deception when the alternative is unbearable."

Unbearable? You repeated to yourself in worry.

"I told myself what I felt for you was gratitude, for all the kindness you have shown me and then admiration for how resolved you are in everything you do." He paid no heed to his pounding head or the ache in chest, "I exhausted every explanation in search for the perfect excuse but I could never find one."

Your heart stilled as his hand left your sleeve and he tenderly grasped your wrist, "I like you, Y/N." He squeezed your wrist, "I have for...longer than I should."

It felt like the room was closing in on you, like the air inside your lungs had liquified and you couldn't breathe.

Kurapika continued before courage could abandon him and the rational side of him caught up, "You asked me what was wrong...nothing." He breathed out as if some weight have been lifted, "That is precisely the problem, nothing is wrong. I have simply grown tired of fighting myself."

You stared at him, your pulse thundering against your chest.

"I know this fever will pass and tomorrow I will regret saying any of this, I will apologise, I will tell you to forget everything so before that man returns." His eyes held an emotion in them infinitely more fragile that anything you had ever seen before, he was surrendering all he had, "...allow this weaker version of me one selfish moment to tell you." His fingers brushed the knuckles of your hand, "I love you."

The confession seemed to exhaust him more than the fever ever could, he pulled back and rubbed the heel of his hand against his eyes.

"Kurapika..." Your voice unravelled quiet and soft.

Whatever strength had carried him this far had dissolved completely. Hesitantly he lifted a hand, his fingertips hovered above your cheek, stopping just short of touching your skin, you closed the small distance between you, leaning into the warmth of his waiting hand.

His thumb traced the curve of your cheek just below your eye with such delicacy it felt like the haunting brush of wind across still water.

"So warm..." He quietly said to himself.

The corner of your mouth lifted despite the tears threatening your eyes, you don't know when they appeared just that they are here now. Your own hand rose to cover the one cradling your cheek, brushing your fingertip against his knuckles.

"Kura…" You breathlessly whispered "You're still burning up."

He leaned back and grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers with his, "I do not care."

"Come." You smiled weakly, "You need to lie down, you're exhausted… you can barely keep your eyes open." You shifted to stand up but he tugged you back in place.

"Tell me." He said.

"What?" You knew what he was going to ask but you didn't know if you had the right answer and even if you did, you didn't have the words to explain.

He lowered his gaze to where your hands remained intertwined, "I don't expect an answer from you." He brushed back a strand of your hair, letting his fingertip linger against your cheek, "You owe me nothing, Y/N, but...can you tell me if—"

You swallowed thickly, pushing down your nerves, "I do, Kurapika...more than you could ever know."

"I love you." You whispered through the tremor in your voice, "I know what lies before you, I know your path is not one of ease but Kurapika you keep speaking as though loving you is some sort of burden, you wouldn't even call me to tell me you were unwell because what? You thought you would burden me?" You voice cracked, frustration seeping through the gentleness, "Loving you has never felt like that." You squeezed his hand, "Why must you carry it all alone? It pains me."

A tear escaped your eyes, rolling down your warm cheek.

"I cannot promise to erase your grief nor can I heal what the Phantom Trope has stolen from you and....and..." You took in a deep, sharp breath, "And if one day your path takes you somewhere I cannot follow then I will still be grateful I got to love you, for however long fate allows me to."

Kurapika cupped your cheek, wiping away your tears, he then carefully leaned in. He was so close now that only a single breath existed between you both, you tilted your chin upward to meet him and his lips met yours with a tenderness so profound it scarcely felt like a kiss at all.

A quiet sigh escaped you as your lips met, carrying away every anxious thought that had weighed upon your heart. The kiss held all the months of his longing, you felt the soft brush of his lashes against your skin as his eyes fluttered closed, surrendering to the moment he had denied himself for far too long.

You didn't care that you might catch his cold, you wanted this kiss, you needed it.

His hands rose to cradle your face holding you as if you were something wholly precious, he held you with such desperation it seemed like he thought you would dissolve into the afternoon mist if he were to let go. You slipped your fingers into the silken strands of his golden hair as you pulled him closer, he melted against you with a quiet shuddering breath.

The warmth of your body met his fevered skin, he moved one of his hands to hold you by the small of your back as he tightened his embrace. You responded by pulling him even closer, your fingers curling gently at the nape of his neck. He smiled into the kiss, deepening it further. You pushed against him, craving more of his soft lips and the smallest more involuntary sound escaped him.

With a quiet breath, your lips parted. Kurapika's forehead rested against yours as he struggled to steady both his breathing and his racing heart.

"One more." He whispered as he captured your lips in another kiss, it was much deeper this time yet no less delicate and you kissed him back with equal devotion.

You pulled back, cupping his cheeks you kissed the tip of his nose, "Will you come and lie down with me? Your skin is still burning and we are both exhausted."

He did not answer you, his expression was utterly blank and you understood this all too quickly from the frown etched on his forehead, "Y/N, I think, this was too selfish of me, what have I—"

"Kura." You cut him off, "Will you, just this once, allow yourself to have something you want without feeling guilty." You pecked his lips, "I want you to be selfish."

His lips parted yet no words escaped him.

"Be selfish with me." You mumbled as you placed a kiss against his wrist.

Moments passed in complete silence as you peppered kisses on his wrist, holding him against you in fear that he would come to his senses and regret all that had happened.

"Just this once." He whispered.

You smiled as you embraced him in a hug, nudging your head into the crook of his neck as he wrapped his arms around your waist, "I love you." Your words muffled but he heard them clear.

The rich smell of wine flowed through the air, lush with the scent of ripe fruits. You could feel the boredom claw at your patience with each passing minute as you sat across from the bearded man whose voice droned on ceaselessly about a topic you had long since lost interest in.

You had taken this assignment to assist a client in retrieving a collection of rare relics that had disappeared before reaching their buyer, slipping into the hidden current of the black market. The man seated before you wasn't the architect of the operation, simply just a knot in the thread. All you needed to do was to get this man to spill his employer's residence and then you can leave.

"I had told him it was only a matter of time because no-one, till date, has bested me at it and what do you know, he lost."

You blinked at him masking your annoyance, letting out a forced laugh, "I must see you play one day, sir."

"I would happily have that arranged, Miss Y/L/N." He winked.

The grating sound of your ringtone tore through the conversation, you glanced at your phone and then back at the man sat before you. You immediately silenced the phone, shoving it into your bag, giving the man a gentle smile.

"You see I am quite interested in the game, perhaps you could teach me." You lowered your voice, looking at him with a softness you did not feel.

The man's expression shifted as did his body, he cleared his throat, "Teach you?" He pleasantly repeated.

You let out a small laugh, looking down for a moment before catching his gaze again, "That is, if you're willing. Though I must warn you, sir, I am a slow learner." You deliberately leaned forward on the table, smiling.

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes dropped briefly to your cleavage. The dress you wore was a shade of deep burgundy, like crushed roses in the very wine you had been drinking tonight. It fell gracefully over your figure, almost architectural in its precision as its deep hue lent warmth to your skin. Its neckline dropped lower than what you are usually accustomed to, diffused only by the drape of the long material.

You rested your elbow against the table and tilted your head, allowing your fingers to brush lightly against the stem of your glass, the wine inside rippled lightly.

His gaze lingered longer.

"I may require a patient teacher." You quietly said.

His chest expanded at once as he returned to lock eyes with you, "I think I can manage that."

Before you could answer him, your phone vibrated in your bag. It continued to do so a few times as you tried your best to ignore it.

"You should take that, it could be important."

You awkwardly smiled at the man, "I do apologise." You stood up, pushing back your chair, "I'll be right back."

Making your way to the women's restroom, you pulled out your phone and stared at the caller ID.

Kurapika.

You blinked once and then again in disbelief, your fingers tightened around your phone until the edges pressed crescent shapes into your palm and your jaw clenched from irritation. Kurapika Kurta, one of your greatest friends who you had met during the hunter's exam, you had never intended to care for him as deeply as you do but somehow you found yourself treasuring him and his presence — perhaps a little too much.

But as of late he had done nothing but break your heart. It has been over 8 months and not a single word from him, no calls or messages, not even the brief, absent-minded replies he used to send at impossibly late hours of the night.

And you wanted to understand, at first you excused it because you knew he was busy and working, that he is committed to something of utmost importance yet you couldn't help but want him to see you as someone important too, someone worth remembering even in the hard times.

You thought for a split second to ignore his call but the desperate part of you answered before the thought could fully register.

You waited for his voice to drift through the phone, the same mellow tone you so dearly missed, "Hello? Is this Y/N?"

Confusion flooded over you, "Who are you? Why do you have this phone, is the owner of it with you?" You rushed out.

"I'm guessing you are Y/N." The unfamiliar man said, "I'm Jack, I work at the 'Crown & Cinder' Bar, Your friend here is absolutely wasted and I'm talking on the brink of passing out, man."

You rolled your eyes, "He's drunk."

"Yes, um, he was mumbling your name over and over so I called you because we need to close and he's like the last person here." Jack awkwardly explained, "If you could quickly come and get him that would be great."

You sighed, glancing in the mirror at your exhausted reflection. The dark crimson coloured lipstick you wore had faded into a blush red and your hair had lost most of its volume.

"Hello?" Jack's voice called through the phone.

"Right." You pressed your lips together, "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

The assignment would just have to be put on hold for tonight. fantastic.

Relief instantly washed over Jack's voice, "Thank you. Seriously. I think he'll be alright...he's just—" Jack shuffled, turning to the blonde haired man who rested against the bar, "Not having a great night."

You thanked Jack and then ended the call, turning to the mirror you gave yourself one last glance before rushing out the washroom. After bidding goodbye to the man you were at dinner with and profusely apologising you got in your car and raced to the bar.

────୨ৎ────

Warm amber light spilled through the tall windows of the bar as you stood outside, watching the way the light of the bar sign flickered. The door opened with a chime as you sauntered inside, your eyes skipping across the alcohol diffused room, frantically searching for the golden blonde hair of your friend.

"Y/N?"

You turned and looked to who you assumed was Jack. He was stood behind the counter, wiping it down with a tiny white cloth and that's when you spotted him. Kurapika.

He was sat to the end of the bar counter, a small cup of what appeared to be whisky placed before him still half-full as his head tilted downward.

You nodded your head to Jack as you walked toward Kurapika, the length of your burgundy dress trailing gently behind you.

"Oh thank god." You heard Jack mutter.

Your stomach uncomfortably coiled as you came to a stop beside Kurapika who hadn't noticed your presence, you then placed your hand in-front of him and leaned your head forward to try and get a look at his face but his hair was obstructing that.

"Kurapika." You whispered.

He instantly snapped his head upward and toward the sound of your delicate voice, he faintly breathed out as his strikingly elegant eyes fell upon you.

He said nothing and you gulped before speaking, "Come on." You grabbed his arm, trying to carefully get him to stand up, "We need to go, the bar is closing."

Kurapika blinked and leaned into your touch, "I'm sorry..." He slurred, "Didn't mean to disturb you." He clung to you tightly, fingers soft against the warm flesh of your arm.

You shivered and tried your hardest to ignore the sensation of his touch.

Jack came to help you when he noticed you were struggling with Kurapika, he assisted you with getting him out of the bar and seating Kurapika comfortably into your car.

"Thank you." You smiled at Jack.

"No problem. And thanks for coming to get him, I was worried I'd have to call the police."

You shook your head, "I'm glad you didn't."

You waved goodbye to Jack and then sat down in the drivers seat of the car. Instinctively you turned and glanced at Kurapika who, in the time you were speaking with Jack, had unbuckled his seatbelt.

With a sigh you reached over the console and Kurapika, stretching for the belt but before your fingers could close around it, a hand wrapped gently around your wrist.

Startled you sit back in your seat, Kurapika's head lifted and his deep eyes lock on your figure. You noticed how crestfallen they appeared, laced with shards of despair, his golden irises smothered by alcohol and exhaustion. Your heart ached at the sight.

"I...Y/N.." He mumbled, "Fuck, you're perfect."

Your mouth parted and you felt your chest tighten. You pulled your wrist out of his grasp and hastily grabbed the belt, buckling Kurapika in before doing so yourself.

"Where's your apartment?" You asked.

Kurapika refused to answer. He didn't want to be alone tonight and having seen you after so long, he couldn't bear leaving your side certainly not now.

"Kurapika." You snapped, "Tell me where your apartment is?"

"Can't." He drunkenly said, "I forgot."

You scoffed in astonishment, "You forgot? are you serious?"

He nodded, leaning his head back against the car seat with a half-lidded stare.

You frustratedly exhaled and then started the car, you'll have to take him back to your place.

────୨ৎ────

Begrudgingly you supported Kurapika up the stairs to your apartment, the building where you lived was enveloped in a tranquil silence and you silently prayed Kurapika would remain quiet. The task proved itself quite difficult as he kept tripping over his feet, almost taking you both down a few times.

His weight leaned heavily against your body, one hand loosely gripped your waist while the other dangled by his side. You could feel his chest rise and fall when he mumbled something under his breath, every so often.

You reach your apartment door, stopping for a moment to catch your breath. As you tried to lean Kurapika against the wall so you could grab your keys, he simply tightened his hold on your waist and stubbornly refused to let go of you.

Instead, he leaned further into your side. His head placed itself on your shoulder, you froze; his warmth seeped through the fabric of your clothing and his hair brushed your cheek when he shifted closer.

"Hmm." He mumbled, "You smell good...like it." He inched even closer.

Coughing awkwardly, you shook your head, "Kurapika."

He nodded.

"You need to let go." You whispered, your stomach fluttered from the sensation of him being so close to you.

"No." His answer came immediately.

"No?" You repeated, "You're making things difficult, Kurapika, I need to get the—"

The sound of a door unlocking behind you caught your attention, leaving your sentence half-finished, you turned to catch a glimpse of your neighbour.

The man offered you a friendly smile, one you both had exchanged countless amounts of times in this very long corridor. He held stacks of papers in his hands and a brown leather bag was draped over his left shoulder.

Tonight, however, his gaze lingered on your body a little longer than usual. It was probably because he had never seen you in such a fancy get-up before, you aren't one to dress in such striking gowns, ones that alluringly swathe your figure in liquid velvet while also remaining gentle.

The dress had been chosen by your friend, another hunter, it was a gown that lingered somewhere between refinement and temptation. Just what you had needed to get the assignment completed.

Yet for a fleeting moment you wished you hadn't listened to your friend and had chosen something less striking, because the attention in your neighbour's eyes was impossible to miss and Kurapika had noticed this too.

"Looks like someone's had a rough night." Your neighbour lightly chuckled.

You felt Kurapika lift his head from your shoulder, trying his hardest to not sway.

You sighed, smiling softly, "That's one way to put it."

"Do you need any help?" The man instantly stepped toward you, "I can get the door for you."

"No need." Kurapika snappily said.

The neighbour blinked his gaze to Kurapika, he frowned and shuffled back trying to get a better look at the blonde haired man leaning at your side, "Hi, I'm David Y/N's neighbour. I don't think we've ever met." David outstretched his hand toward Kurapika however his gaze lingered on you.

"Why are you looking at her like that?" Kurapika completely ignored David.

You turned to your friend, bewildered at his sudden harsh tone.

"Excuse me?" David scowled.

"You keep looking at her."

"Kurapika." You firmly whisper into his side, squeezing his arm to shut him up.

"And smiling...it's annoying."

"I apologise. I was just being friendly."

That short explanation seemed to satisfy your drunken friend for a second before he scoffed, "No." Kurapika messily pulled you into his side, stumbling slightly from the alcohol in his body, "She doesn't need you...she has me."

You slammed the palm of your hand over his mouth as you send David an apologetic, awkward smile, "He's drunk." You rush out, "I am really—"

"Don't sweat it." David gave you a thin-lipped smile, "I'll see you around." He then turned and left down the corridor.

You pulled back your hand and turned to your door, shoving the key into the lock and pushing the door open before stumbling in with Kurapika at your side.

"Didn't like him looking at you." Kurapika quietly muttered under his breath.

With much difficulty you get him into your living room and onto the sofa, he groans and leans back throwing his tuxedo jacket onto the headrest. You exhale and rub your shoulder, feeling a knot begin to form at the base of your neck.

You turn to leave so you can change but Kurapika, ever quick and sharp, grabs you by the wrist and, even in his inebriated state, manages to pull you into his lap. You embarrassingly squeal and try to get off but he wraps his arms around your waist, holding your warm body to his.

"You're so sweet. So kind to me, I—" He rests his head on your shoulder,

"Kurapika, I need to change so let go of me." You demand however your voice came out as a light flutter, something fragile and not at all commanding.

"Don't wanna."

You cup his cheeks and pull him back so you can look him in his eyes, "What you did out there was rude, you cannot talk to my neighbour that way."

Kurapika's expression soured, appearing deeply offended that you would scold him for that, "I wasn't rude."

"You called him annoying." You rolled your eyes.

"He was annoying, what kind of name is David anyway?" Kurapika jeered.

"He was being polite, he always is Kurapika and you can't—"

"He was being more than polite." Your friend snapped, "Why are you sticking up for him?"

A sigh of defeat escaped your lips, you give up. There is no point in trying to get through to him especially when he is drunk.

Your mind then raced back to what Kurapika had said to your neighbour, 'she doesn't need you...she has me', you wanted to yell at him, to shake him from his drunken haze and tell him how wrong he was, that you don't have him because he is never here. Always absent, always leaving without so much as a word.

Kurapika existed in your life the way a distant star does in the night sky, consumed by the chasm of darkness that surrounds it, so enchanting yet so alone. So impossibly far away that no matter how much you longed for him to see you, he doesn't.

A stinging, bitter ache settled into your chest.

You try once again to slip from his grasp but he tightens his hold.

"I'm tired, let me go so I can get ready for bed." You sigh.

"I'm sorry." He brokenly whispers, he searches your face for something he doesn't quite know yet only that he wants you to hold him, "You look so beautiful..."

You look away, your heartbeat a loud, ceaseless echo in your ear.

"In this dress." His right hand moves from your waist and to the strap of your gown toying with it.

"Kurapika—"

"Where were you tonight? seems like you were busy." He slurs, "You didn't answer my call the first few times I tried."

"I was doing something." You replied.

He tilted his head, his eyes scanned your figure, lingering slightly longer on the exposed flesh of your cleavage before quickly darting away, "Doing what?"

"You don't get to ask me a million questions." You fiercely retorted.

Then, you harshly pushed back his hands and stood up from his lap. He frowned, looking up at you as you bit your lip to hold back your hurt and anger from exploding.

"Not when you haven't responded to any of my calls for months. You left without a single word or notice Kurapika." You raised your hands up in the air, displaying your frustration clearly to him, "I was so worried."

Kurapika's frown slowly faded.

You laughed bitterly, "Worried?" The word cracked apart as it left your mouth, "No. That's not the right word."

It was loneliness and fear, it had etched a comfortable place into your heart. The months you had heard nothing from him, not even an utterance of his well-being, were excruciatingly difficult to bear, you feared for him.

"Do you know how it feels to call someone and not hear back for weeks and weeks?" Your voice dipped low, "You left without telling me and I know, Kurapika, I know what it is your heart is devoted to, I would never ask you to give it up but—"

You wrapped your arms around yourself, shakily breathing out, "I just wanted to know if you were okay."

"I know, angel, I—" His voice was a faint breeze, a whisper that barely reached your ears. He reached forward and grabbed your wrists pulling you closer to him before wrapping his arms around you and resting his head on your stomach, "I am so sorry, fuck, I—" He squeezed your hips, "I did it to keep you safe, I have to keep you safe."

You stood frozen, arms beside you and your eyes wide in a mix of surprise and heartache, his voice was shaking.

"Everything is falling apart, Y/N. It all—" His voice cracked, "I'm so tired, I want it to stop, please."

You reached your hands up and placed them gently into his hair, soothing him as he held onto you.

"I need you...forgive me please." He muffled.

You swallowed, feeling your heart clench at the sound of his voice so shattered. When you felt something wet drip onto your dress, you immediately reached down, resting on your knees before him as you cupped his cheeks, wiping away his tears with your thumb.

He leaned into the palm of your hand, "I can't lose you."

"You won't, Kurapika. You will never lose me." You whispered, tenderly rubbing his warm cheeks as his golden speckled irises intensely bore into you — the gleam in them shone so reverently. "Come on, lets get you to bed." You begin to stand up but he pulls you down, you look to him with confusion.

"Will you forgive me, please? I need to hear it." Kurapika's voice emerged softer, quiet and laced with desperation, his mouth was parted as subtle, heated breaths of air drifted out. "You're so good to me, so sweet to someone so selfish. I know I disappeared but I promise, I'll never do it again."

You bit your lip. You found yourself unable to bear the sight of him like this, there was something so unbearable in seeing him stripped of his usual, careful composure.

"You don't hate me, do you?" He rushed out, despairingly, as if he was clinging to the last, fraying threads of his hope. Kurapika would never be able to live with you hating him, you were his everything. The person he thought of when exhaustion hollowed him out, when missions became unendurable, your voice was the harmony that echoed in his mind when things fell apart, soothing the stress. He would take your anger and frustration but he could never take you hating him.

You reached for his hands and gently threaded your fingers through his, Kurapika's hands stilled beneath yours, "I could never hate you, pika, I don't think my heart even knows how to." You said ever so softly as you rubbed his knuckles, "You made me angry, yes, and you made me so sad and so worried but hate you?" You shook your head, "Never."

Kurapika felt his heart flutter at the mention of the nickname you used to call him so sweetly, his shoulders slouched in ease as he leaned forward to rest his head on your shoulder.

"You tired?" You whispered.

He shook his head.

"Really? Well, I'm tired." You ran your hand through his hair, "And I really want to get out of this dress."

Kurapika sat up, his eyes floated over your dress once again. You were sat there, on the floor, on your knees before him in such a revealing dress, one you had never worn before and he felt himself consumed with want. You are his friend, he hadn't thought of you in such a manner before, not like how he is now, not with such profound wanton desire.

"Since when did you wear dresses like this?" He jokingly asked, trying to distract himself.

"Haha" You said dryly, "I needed to for an assignment."

Kurapika frowned, "What assignment required you to wear that?"

"Don't worry about it." You stood up, taking a few steps back and brushing down the dress, "It isn't even mine, it belongs to a co-worker." You played with the fabric, "She wants me to keep it, apparently it looks better on me."

"It does." Kurapika immediately agreed, he caught your gaze, "You look fucking incredible." His voice was deep and rather passionate sounding, his words becoming less slurred the more he spoke.

You cleared your throat, trying to drown the wave of butterflies that swarmed the pit of your stomach, "Thank you." You voice was quiet, you had never felt this shy before, "You—"

"I want to kiss you." Kurapika revealed, his tone soft yet doused in a ruinous thirst.

You blinked slowly, the heat from your cheeks now canvased your whole body as your pulse thunderously crashed in your ears.

He stood up from his seat on the sofa, swaying less now as he inched closer to you, "May I?"

There was no response from you but silence for a few, lengthy moments, you had wanted to kiss him for the longest time, that was no lie. There were times where you had imagined the feel of his lips on yours, the sensation of his tongue in your mouth and how his hand would feel holding you.

Now here he was, suspended in the small space between distance and touch, and you didn't know how to react.

"Angel?" He whispered, "Did I— is something wrong?"

You shook your head, "No." You breathlessly answered.

"Then, could I perhaps show you just how much I truly missed you?" Kurapika looked utterly desperate, hunger profusely exuded from him as his eyes drifted to your lips.

"You missed me?" You muttered.

"Of course I did." He cupped your cheek, "...so, so much."

You leaned in and pecked his lips, taking him by surprise. You then placed your hands on his chest, "Kiss me." You whispered.

He wasted no time and smashed his lips against yours, you sighed into the kiss as he pulled you closer. Kurapika sucked on your bottom lip, groaning at the feel of how soft and velvety they were against his own. He then slipped his tongue into your mouth, causing you to whimper from the intrusion. His hand gently wrapped around you neck, tilting your head back as he continued to kiss you deeply.

He bit your bottom lip as he pulled back from you, the air in the room was heavier and warmer. Kurapika's hand slipped from your neck to your jaw, his thumb brushed over your plump lips.

Suddenly he began to walk you backwards, keeping his gaze intently locked on your lips. Your breath hitched when your back hit the cold wall, feeling the chill mix with the heat of your skin through the fabric of your gown.

"You..." He breathed out, pinching your lips, "You are perfect."

He slammed his lips back onto yours, pressing his body against you. This second kiss was woven with burning fervour, harsh in the way that his tongue forced its way into your mouth, rough in the way that his hands caressed and rubbed at your body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding yourself to him causing Kurapika's lips to curve into a smile as he deepened the kiss.

You raised your leg up against the side of his body and he grabbed it, digging his fingers into your leg. Kurapika's other hand reached the thin strap of your gown and he pulled it down, moving his lips to the arch between your neck and shoulder where he began pressing open mouthed kisses.

"Oh." You gasped, unable to form words as he continued to suck at your flesh.

He pulled back, eyes darkened with lust, lips parted in hunger, "Look at you, my pretty girl, blushing for me." He whispered.

"Please." You whined, missing his lips on your neck.

"What is it, baby?"

"I want you." You revealed.

"How do you want me? Use your words angel." Kurapika teased, tugging down the other strap of your dress.

You bit your lip, feeling heat rise in-between your legs, "I want you to touch me."

"Where?" He kissed the corner of your lips.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your breathing shaky, "Everywhere."

Your eyes snapped open when Kurapika's hand cupped your cunt, he had pulled up your gown and pushed aside your underwear in the time that your eyes were closed, "Is here okay?"

"Ugh, oh— Kurapika." You moaned.

"Tell me, sweetheart, is here where you want me to touch you?" He toyed at the entrance of your cunt,

"Yes! oh my— please, yes, yes." You fervently whined.

"Good girl, so wet for me."

You whimpered, "Need you to...ugh...put it in."

"Yeah?" Kurapika leaned into you, into the crook of your neck as he slipped a finger into your pussy, "So soaked, be loud for me."

You moaned, your head titling back against the wall as you gripped onto Kurapika's shoulders to steady yourself. He slipped in another finger, pressing on your clit as he bit at your neck. He pumped his fingers in you as you shakily trembled against him.

He pulled his fingers out and you groaned in annoyance, he then dropped to his knees and frantically pulled up your dress, "Kurapika, what—"

"Gonna taste you baby, need it." He rushed out in his dazed state.

He quickly pulled down your underwear and absent-mindedly threw it to the side. He grabbed your legs and hoisted them up onto his shoulders as he inched his face closer to you warm, dripping cunt.

He looked up at you through lowered lashes, your breathing halted. There was a quiet intensity in his gaze, carefully restrained yet impossible to hide, like a slow burning fire that seemed content to consume you if you'd let it.

"Do you know how badly I've wanted this?" He passionately whispered, his hands gripped your thighs firmly, pushing your legs a little more further apart, "How much I've wanted to consume you and make you mine."

"I-I, I am yours." You stuttered out, the heat of his breath fanned onto your skin causing you to short-wire, your thoughts slipped apart beneath the warmth of his nearness.

Kurapika's expression shifted, he tilted his head and placed a kiss on your inner thigh, "Say it again."

You whined from impatience, you needed his mouth on your cunt, "I'm yours."

He leans in and licks a strip along your cunt, you tightened your legs around his neck, squirming against the wall as he thrusts his tongue into your soaked pussy. He whines as he laps up your arousal, his tongue flicks against your clit. You reach over and shove your hand into his long, soft golden hair pulling at the strands with each flick of his tongue on your flesh.

"You taste so divine, angel, so so..." He kisses your cunt.

"Kura— don't stop, please just..." You cry out, "Gonna cum, so close."

"I know, I know." He mutters into your cunt, shoving his finger inside as he hums against your clit. He pumps his finger as his tongue sucks on your clit.

"T-too much, Kurapika… I can’t…" You breathed, your voice breaking apart as the sensation overwhelmed you.

"You're doing so well for me, baby, come on — cum for me." Kurapika speeds up the movement of his finger, shoving another one inside as you begin to tremble.

"Pika, oh— yes, yes." You release explosively shattered through you as you shook from the intensity.

Kurapika remained between your legs, licking your release as you whined from how sensitive your cunt was. He placed a kiss on your thigh before standing back up, grabbing you and pulling you into his hold.

You leaned in and kissed his lips, tasting yourself on his mouth, "I need you." You whispered into his ear, you felt his grip on your waist tighten, "Please pika." You bit his earlobe.

He immediately picked you up, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you toward your bedroom. Slamming the door open, he walked to the bed and placed you on it.

You shifted toward the head of the bed and Kurapika followed without hesitation. The heat suspended between you felt almost tangible, leaving you twitching from impatience.

Kurapika reaches over silently and slips your dress off your body, letting his fingers trace your warm flesh. You slip your bra off, watching how Kurapika's eyes fill with wild hunger.

"Beautiful...my pretty, pretty girl." He breathlessly whispers, intoxicated by your presence.

His fingertips drifted over your collarbone before his hand wrapped around your tit, he kneaded the soft flesh, letting his thumb brush over the nipple.

"You have no idea what you do to me, Y/N." He groaned.

He then presses his mouth around your tit, lips sucking at the flesh as he continues kneading the other one. You let your head fall back and rest against the headframe of the bed, lips parted as soft, breathless moans roll out.

Kurapika whines as his tongue licks over your nipple, he harshly pinches the other nipple causing you to gasp loudly, hands fisting the linen.

"Those pretty little sounds you're making...." He looks at you, pulling back from your tit, "..keep making them for me."

You bite your lip reflexively, Kurapika shakes his head and pulls your lip out, "I need you to be loud, sweetheart....yeah, makes me hard."

You nod your head, almost forgetting how to breathe.

He sits up and undresses, his button-up shirt comes off swiftly and then he reaches for his belt but you grab his hand and stop it, "Let me do it." You temptingly say, dropping your voice into a low, seductive hush.

Kurapika leans back and lets you unbuckle his belt, you throw it to the floor and then unzip his pants, your fingers move agonisingly slow causing Kurapika to restlessly whine, "Faster, Y/N...you're messing with me."

When you finally have his pants unzipped, he quickly shuffles out of them and tosses them before your hands are on the band of his boxers.

"Not gonna waste time, baby." Kurapika groans, "No fucking around....need to be in your pretty pussy."

You pull down his boxers, catching a glimpse of his cock, causing a startled breath to slip past your lips.

"Oh." Your mutter, "You're..."

Kurapika places his hand on top of yours and slides off his boxers with you, now you can see him properly; his cock was gentle but big, too big. His tip was flushed pink, begging to be used and it had you trembling with need.

"So big, Kurapika." You whisper under your breath, crawling into his lap.

"You wanna ride me, baby." He smirks, wrapping his arms around you.

You kiss his lips, positioning your dripping cunt over his hard cock. Your tongue slips into his mouth as you sink yourself onto his cock, he whimpers into the kiss, pressing his lips forcefully against you.

You pull back and bury your head into the crook of his neck. Your cunt stretching to accommodate his size, "Mhm, fuck Kura—" You softly mewl against his neck. Once you have sank completely onto his cock, you moan out in pure pleasure, feeling yourself gripping him so tightly.

"Holy fuck—" Kurapika brokenly whines, losing his train of thought, "Can't think when...ugh..." He begins fucking his cock into you, his pace quick and thrusts sharp, "...You're so wet, so warm."

You roll your hips, pulling back to get a look at him. Kurapika’s expression had come undone in a way you’d never seen before, his eyes were closed, head titled back and forehead sweaty. You brushed his hair back from his forehead, wrapping your arms around his neck as your bounced on his cock.

Kurapika leaned forward and wrapped his mouth around your tit, his hands placed themselves on your hips, guiding you up and down on his cock as he sucked on your nipple, biting and licking the smooth skin.

"Oh— it's t-too much, need more, Kura." You gasp.

Kurapika fucks up into you, hitting you hard and making you writhe as the palm of his hand smacks your ass, "All mine." He cups your ass, squeezing it as you jump on him.

"I-I, mhm, pika, I'm gonna cum." You pant, rocking your hips against him.

"You're squeezing me baby, gonna cum." He teasingly hums.

"Yes, yes, yes! please, I'm so close....ugh...right there." You force the words out your mouth, your voice shaking with pleasure.

"That's it, good girl. I can feel you. Cum for me."

His words cause your release to ripple through, shattering your composure and flooding you in ecstasy. You feel his release only seconds after yours, a hot, intense orgasm consuming him as he groans, "Fuck, baby....feel so good." He whines, his release clouding him, making his words slur together.

You slump against him, head resting on his shoulder as he places a kiss on your forehead, "You tired, my love?" Kurapika whispers.

You breathe out. You weren't tired anymore, not when you still needed him, "No."

Kurapika pulls out of you causing you to whine, then his finger slips inside your cunt, "Soaked and wrecked." He moans, "Gonna take me again."

You nod your head eagerly.

His golden eyes rake over your flush body, swathed in heat and trembling and he smirks dangerously, "On your hands and knees. Now."

You instantly do as told, getting onto your hands and knees as Kurapika positions himself behind you. His hands gripped your hips as you feel him at your entrance. He slides back into you without warning, you gasp arching your back, the stretch of him so overwhelming.

"So fucking perfect." He grunts out as he slams into you, his desire for you absorbing him, driving him to pound into you relentlessly.

You feel his hand grip your tit, pinching the nipple as his other hand squeezes your hip. He pulls out and drills back into you, the bed creaks as the sound of skin slapping echoes through the air, so dirty and obscene yet it has you addicted.

"Faster Kura....ah, harder." You sob, clawing at the sheets of the bed.

"Sweetheart...wants it hard." He rocks into you, fondling your tit, "...need you to be loud for me."

You oblige instantly and moan out, Kurapika leans down and placed a kiss on your back, sinking his teeth into your shoulder as you whine from the pleasurable feeling of his bite.

"Gonna mark you...make you entirely mine." He pants into your shoulder, biting at it again as he pounds into your dripping, squeezing cunt.

His thrusts grow frantic as you rock back onto him, he leans up and watches how his cock sinks into you from behind, "So perfect for me....you fit so well, made just for me." Kurapika whines.

You could feel your release inch closer, "Fuck, you're squeezing me tight, gonna cum again, baby?" Kurapika growls, "Hm."

"Yes, so close Kura. Don't stop, please." You achingly gasp, fucking your hips back onto him as he pounds his cock into you.

His hand moves from your tit to your cunt, as he circles your clit edging you closer to your release. You began to scream his name in a ceaseless chant, feeling the familiar sensation of your orgasm inch closer.

"P-please, Kurapika, I'm there, nearly...ugh..."

"Sound so pretty...cum for me, angel." He kisses your shoulder, on-top of the bite mark he left behind.

You felt your orgasm wash over you, blinding white light consuming you as you shuddered, "Making such a mess, baby." Kurapika teases as he continues to slam into you, feeling his release as he spills into you, groaning your name.

Kurapika pulls out of you as you collapse onto the bed, he lays down beside you pulling you into his side as he places a gentle, tender kiss to your lips.

He brushes your hair from your damp cheeks, "My beautiful girl." Kissing your jaw and neck as he held you, "You were so good for me." He kisses your lips again, a quick peck, "I, fuck—" He looks to you, the intensity in his stare had softened into something deep and delicate, his thumb brushed your cheek, "I love you."

Warmth bloomed through your chest as his words echoed in your mind, you blinked at him with parted lips. Your gaze dropped from his, as a light, dizzying feeling trapped you causing you to grip the sheet firmly.

Kurapika tenderly gripped your chin, pulling you to look back at him.

"Kurapika—" You held his hand, "I love you."