“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Friends or More starters // @vengehunt
Leorio wasn’t sure how exactly they ended up on the boardwalk, standing in silence, elbows brushing. They’d left the restaurant and agreed to walk, aimlessly navigating, impulsively turning. The glimmer of moonlight on the gentle ocean caught them both, so there they lingered, cheeks caressed by salt spray and sea breeze alike.
He could feel his heartbeat in his throat, each pulse like knots tightening, forcing him to swallow. His plans had been flimsy at best, but he was more of a coward than he thought. When the waiter had offered them wine, Leorio stumbled over the words, allowing Kurapika to sweep in with perfect pronunciation - and a lighthearted jab at his expense. Each time Leorio considered speaking up, he instead sipped his drink until his head was light and his thoughts scarce. He felt the flush of his cheeks and was thankful for the camouflage.
There, by the sea, Leorio stared not at the ocean but at Kurapika, at the starlight strung on stray strands of hair, at the paleness that rivaled the moon’s, the clearness of eyes and steady stare that could kill or captivate.
Kurapika turned, and Leorio didn’t react, rendered sluggish by the wine. He swallowed in response and faced the waves, watched them crash onto the sand and spill their foam. His muscles grew taut, and without answering, he dropped into a crouch, knees popping, and slipped off his shoes and socks.
He bore a new grin that surely complemented the heightened blush. “I’m a little warm,” he said, and the lie was foolish; late autumn delved into winter’s territory, and Leorio retained the woolen scarf around his neck.
Before Kurapika could reply, Leorio vaulted himself over the railing of the boardwalk and landed, rather gracefully, on the dry sand. He tilted his head to gaze back up at Kurapika, smiled at the way the wind made him ethereal and distant. “Care to join me, or are you too afraid to get your toes wet?”
He didn’t wait for Kurapika’s answer, just crossed down the steep bank until the cold water lapped at his ankles and stung unknown wounds, and with one hand stuffed into a crowded pocket, fingers wound round an object he would resolve to lock away (for now, just for now), he was surprised to find he didn’t feel the least bit lonely.