Some Wings Must Bleed

Chapter 70 - Here Yesterday

Kurapika and I were laying next to each other, our limbs tangled together and breathing connected. "You're good at this." I mumbled, moving my arm to his chest and shifting a bit.

"Good at what?"

"Being— you— I guess. I don't know, you're good at holding me." I fumbled, unsure of where exactly I was going with the original statement.

"The truth is I haven't had someone to hold like this in a long time." Kurapika murmured.

I looked up to him and hummed. He smiled gently before clearing his throat and continuing. "At first it felt odd— hugging you and things like that, but I've found myself to desperately miss affection from other people."

"You... miss it?"

"When I lost my clan, I was still young. Ever since then I've had very few people show me affection, and none the way you do."

I smiled, and we stayed like that, his breath hitting my hair and blowing it ever so slightly into my face in a way that tickled my forehead and made me want to never let him go. "How can someone who's missed so much touch be so gentle?" I asked, nuzzling my head into the man and recalling some of the things Hisoka had told me. "You're known as brutal, you know. I mean, you've killed people and you're feared by the most terrifying organization in the world, yet somehow..." I trailed off, hoping Kurapika knew what I meant as I trailed my fingers in circles on his chest.

"I've never considered myself to be gentle."

I snorted. "Really? Blondie, everything you do is gentle. Your laugh, your smile, I mean sure you fuck like a wild animal but- I just- wait, do you think of yourself to be brutal?"

Kurapika stayed silent for a moment, his eyes on the mattress as he thought. "Maybe... yes. I've done many things out of anger and hatred, I've hurt many people. People who've trusted me, people who meant something to other people. I've done things that I want to regret, but somehow can't, as if I owe it to myself to be... proud of my work."

"... Proud? Is that how revenge makes you feel?"

"... No."

His eyes reflected a sad look that made me want to cry for him, knowing he would refuse to shed any tears over the matter. "I don't want to fight anymore." He whispered.

"... Then don't." I responded, my voice even quieter than his.

He held me closer to him and rubbed my back, kissing my head and surrounding me with himself.

. . .

I felt something on me, probably Kurapika, or my own hair.

Wait, what's that noise?

I squinted my eyes and looked up to see my hunter putting on a shirt, his back riddled with scratches and his neck bright with pretty bruises I had made. I smiled and rolled over, looking to the clock.

8 A.M.?

"What are you doing up so early?" I asked, lazily sitting up and rubbing at my eyes.

Kurapika walked to his bag, not bothering to look at me. "I have to go."

...

Wait.

"... What? Now?" I asked, almost surprised at how hoarse and sore my voice was.