I hold Kurapika in my arms. I see him as a newborn, as a toddler, as an adult. I see everything, yet he only sees me. I never change. I cradle him and hush his cries, because even the strongest fighters can weep.
He cries when he is injured. He cries when he thinks of me. He cries when he sees his beautiful daughter and thinks about how she has the same nose shape as me.
He mourns me. He wishes I was there with him, and I wish the same. I caress his face and dry his tears. He misses me. But I'm always here for him.
I hold him close and ease the aches that his reality has sunk deep into his bones. I hug him and warm his vengeful, frosted heart. I kiss his forehead and cheeks and hold him so so tight.
I play with his hair. It's grown long these last few years, and he looks dashing as ever. He likes it when I give him two French braids and tie the ends with red elastics. He likes it when I brush it out, careful not to tug too hard on tangles or knots caused by his constant activity.
He comes to me often, and we weep together. He is so strong. I am so proud. He deserves to rest. So I will hold him close and run my fingers through his hair as he sleeps; undisturbed, peaceful, radiant.
Kurapika
Happy birthday, my son.
YOU ARE READING
LeoPika short stories and one shots!
FanfictionMost of these one-shots happen with Leorio and Kurapika as roommates in a college au of some sort. If there is mature content, then please only read if you are 18 years and up! Take care of yourself and only read what is within your age limit! Some...
