TAKEN » 𝐾𝑢𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑖𝑘𝑎 𝐾𝑢𝑟𝑡𝑎

𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝

The porcelain white cheeks of the stranger were now dry as (F/n) wiped them away with a tissue. The blond's skin felt cold beneath her fingertips as she brushed his hair from his face. She pulled the white duvet across his sleeping form and a sigh left her (s/c) lips before she left the room. Who exactly was he? She lives right next door to him, yet she's never seen him in her five years of taking residence.

Maybe that was for the best, she didn't want to be known by the wrong people and be hunted for her crimes. Specifically the chain user. Though it's been years since the Phantom Troupe has made contact with him, it was still a risk that she didn't want to take.

(F/n) wasn't a part of the Troupe when the other members were slaughtered and they never spoke a word of the incident, but she was naturally curious. Maybe I'll ask Chrollo about it soon. Opening the front door, she gives his bedroom door one last glance before shutting it behind her, the lock softly clicks. I'll check on you later.

Hours seemed to pass so slowly, but (F/n) kept herself occupied with the various amount of books that lined the walls of the blond male's home. She came back to check on him, making sure everything was alright, but she got distracted by the bookshelves. Just as she places the sixth book back into its original spot, she turns to the bedroom door once more. Just as she places her hand on the knob, a sudden voice from inside makes her jump.

"I'M SORRY!" Kurapika shouted as his eyes quickly opened, gripping the sheets tightly as he stared at the ceiling. Sheets? He thought, the ceiling? Was that terrible experience just a dream? How long had he been sleeping? It felt so real. The panicking, the tightening of the chest, and the person he begged help from. Their touch was so caring and gentle. Something he hasn't experienced in such a long time that it almost felt foreign. 

Kurapika sits up and brings a hand to his cheek. He could still feel the softness of their fingers, causing him to let out a soft sigh before pulling the white fabric from his body. That's when he notices he was in a completely different set of clothes, startling him. He notices the unfamiliar, black knitted top and the scent took him off guard, but the shorts are definitely his. The top smelled how the person in the dream did. 

How strange. He finally concluded that it wasn't a dream after all. And that's what set him off again, especially the tears. "Are you alright?" A worried voice says. The voice from last night. Kurapika immediately turns his attention to them and notices the confused expression across the woman's face. 

He ignores the question and takes in her appearance. She wore a dark grey tank top, black cargo pants, and a pair of mismatched black and white socks. "It's you. Right?" He questions, "the one that helped me?" She nods and steps closer, "I'm (F/n)." There was a soft, yet almost dull look in her (e/c) eyes, "I hope you don't mind that I changed your clothes, the other ones were filthy." She shrugs to a pile of neatly folded clothes that sat on his dresser. "I washed them for you, though." Kurapika shakes his head and goes to stand up, stumbling as he does so. 

She's in front of him in an instant, her arms around his waist. He grips her tank top as embarrassment floods through him. "Careful," she states calmly before helping him back to the bed. "It seems your body is exhausted, so maybe don't move so quickly." She pulls away from him and he notices a black splotch of some kind between her breasts, but when she catches him staring she lets out a knowing chuckle. His face floods with a cute shade of pink and immediately looks away, trying his best to avoid eye contact.

"I'm Kurapika," he finally says quietly and she smiles. "Nice to meet you, Kurapika." She adjusts her top and steps backward, "I'll get you a glass of water-" his stomach growls, and her eyebrow quirks up, "and something to eat." Something seems to click, "Is there anything specific you want?" He shakes his head, "whatever you can manage to find is fine." 

Why is she helping me? "Thank you for everything." He whispers to himself as she walks out towards the kitchen.