Lover, You Should've Come Over

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Sitting alone in the dim room, Kurapika finds himself consumed by a painful wave of regret. His hands curl into fists at his sides, fingernails digging dents into his skin as he thinks about (Y/N). A beautiful woman with sharp eyes that saw right through him.

"I pushed her away," He mutters to himself, the extent of his actions weighing on him heavily, "I was so concerned about dragging her down with me... I didn't consider what it would do to her."

The memories of their past together begin to seep into his mind like venom spreading its poison throughout an unsuspecting body. Their laughter echoing through empty halls, the way she'd playfully tugged on a lock of his blonde hair whenever they sparred together. Each memory brings forth another flood of bitter sorrow that gnaws at the edges of Kurapika's already damaged heart.

"She deserved better," He whispers hoarsely against the icy silence that wraps around him, "And I... I couldn't give it to her."

The taste of regret is sour on his tongue, but nothing stings more than remembering how (Y/N) had looked at him when he walked away, pure understanding reflected in those knowing eyes. A silent acceptance that cut deeper than any blade.

"(Y/N)," Kurapika breathes out, the name slipping from his lips like a prayer. 

His gaze focuses on the empty space before him as if he could summon her back with just his longing.

"I'm sorry. I should've stayed," He murmurs quietly into the stillness of the room, shame lacing every word, "I miss you..."

A strained sigh escapes Kurapika's lips, his eyes dull and filled with sorrow, "If only I could see her again..." His voice trails off into a broken whisper, the words hanging stubbornly in the stagnant air surrounding him.

He would give anything to see those bright eyes again, to see her smiling at him so tenderly, to feel the warmth of her skin against his own. The pain plaguing him seems unending, spiraling deeper within his chest with every passing second.

His hand instinctively moves towards where he imagines (Y/N) might be sitting if she were here, an empty gesture aimed at filling a void he himself had created. He misses everything about her, her stubbornness, her recklessness...

But most importantly, how understanding she was, even when things didn't make sense.

"I'll do whatever it takes," Kurapika declares quietly as if making a vow to himself, "I just want another chance."

The blonde-haired man's hand hovers over his phone, a deep sigh leaving his lips. He contemplates calling her, the weight of his decision making his heart pound louder in his chest. His fingers itch to dial her number, a series of digits he had memorized by heart.

The screen glows softly in the dim room, casting an eerie light onto Kurapika's face as he scrolls through his contacts until (Y/N)'s name comes into view. Her contact picture is one they'd taken together during happier times, both of them smiling so brightly that their joy seems almost tangible.

His thumb hovers over her name for what feels like an eternity, every second amplifying the heavy silence encompassing him. The fear gripping at him feels strong and suffocating. What if she doesn't answer? Worse yet... What if she does?

"(Y/N)..." He says under his breath, steeling himself before finally pressing down on her contact information.

As he brings the phone up to his ear, Kurapika bites down hard on his lip. He can taste the metallic tang of blood dripping into his mouth but he barely registers it. All he can focus on is the rhythmic beating of a dial tone, a stark contrast to his erratic heartbeat.

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