unexpected comfort (kurapika x reader)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒
Kurta eyes. The posh man was talking about Kurta eyes.
The bloody anger in Kurapika’s eyes began to seethe and brew again. You tried your best to stop it, though you weren’t sure there was much to do once he’d gotten like that.
You and Kurapika had landed a job together, you didn’t care much for the details since it wasn’t very dangerous for once, and it almost had seemed like a nice night out until now. You had come to be filled in for those you were hired by on the latest information they’d been concerned with, but were much too occupied to come receive it themselves apparently. Although you and Kurapika were both bodyguards, you arrived as a spoiled relative and he kept his position, but as your bodyguard.
“Aren’t they beautiful?”
The man’s voice that was practically selling the eyes of one of Kurapika’s ancestors had brought you back to crude reality of the situation. The bustling energy of the ballroom seemed to muffle as soon as the older man had revealed something of his he shouldn’t have. At least not in front of your “body guard.”
You gulped, wondering how you should answer. Staring over to Kurapika, you realized, yes his eyes were indeed beautiful. But to have them floating aimlessly in a jar? You cringed at the thought.
“Yes, they are quite beautiful.” You bit your cheek, not enjoying the words in your mouth, or his stare from behind you on your conscious. Before the snob could start his rambles on luxuries and riches, you cut him off. “So why are they in a jar?” You we’re trying to bite down your own anger now, understanding the reason for Kurapika’s constant fuel for his anger. It was these people.
“Well, sweetheart, the value doesn’t lay with the container, rather...”
“It’s not- when you see something beautiful, is your instinct really to kill it and shove it into a jar with a price tag?” You couldn’t help yourself, were these people really this blinded by something as trivial as jenny? “Shouldn’t it be left alone because it’s beautiful, because we fear of disturbing its grace? I...I don’t think beauty is something that should be locked up, do you?” You’d gotten too into this conversation, your true feelings shining through. The rich man before you and Kurapika both wearing varying shock on their faces.
You had to maintain the character you’d brought here, or your cover would be blown! You were a woman who liked to think of herself as respectful, but instead thought of something a bratty, spoiled girl would say and tried your best to act the part. You feigned hurt as if you’d personally taken offence, adding an obnoxious sniffle or two. “Why! D-didn’t you just call m-me beautiful?” Your bratty facade was working, he was probably used to working with pig-headed brats, the man flew to your aid.
“N-no milady! I didn’t mean anything like-“
“I’m hurt terribly Sir, truly, and going to the tables now.” You falsely crossed your arms in a pout, turning to Kurapika and winding your arm into his closest to you. Sure, you’d made a fool of yourself, but you smile at the fact that waiter might be fretting over your ‘hurt feelings’ all night. You turned to Kurapika, wondering how the silent boy was after that ordeal. Though his eyes had calmed, you still saw a ring of crimson, hiding subtly at the edges of his eyes. He was wearing contact lenses, but that didn’t stop a the thin sheen of blood red that peeked through when he was troubled. “Hey.” You rubbed his arm in an attempt of comfort, but to not much avail. After a squeeze, he finally looked your way, and he seemed to let his face thaw, his eyes slowly returning to a more true silver. Kurapika had seen you in action before, it was nearly amusing how harmless you could seem to strangers. You sighed in relief.
On your way to the buffet, you both turned into the kitchen you two knew would be empty, you were to await a call from you employers somewhere alone. “What’s your favourite food?” You leaned back on a counter, feeling the need to fill the silence after minutes had passed.
“...I don’t know.” Kurapika stood straight up, almost as if he was refusing rest. You’d always admired his soft almost angelic features, and equally soft and angelic looking blonde hair, but he always carried a heavy sense of either exhaustion or intimidation with him, his sleek black suit adding to the second. He gave off exhaustion only when he felt he could let his guard down, at least partially so, you assumed. From the way his muscles seemed to untense at the shoulders whenever it was just the two of you in a room together. For some reason, that gave you comfort around him.
“Ah, me neither really, though I do love dango. The ones with a lot of flavour...” You tried to focus more on the imaginary dango and less on Kurapika’s hard shell.
“What’s the point of this small talk?” He questioned, eyes on the ground for whatever reason, did even raising his eyes make him tired? Your heart sank a little, the look on his face hardened again.
“It brings me comfort, most of the time others too. I don’t like it much either, but it helps the silence.” He seemed to ponder on that, sliding down to take a seat in the floor himself with a meek sigh, his hands pale against the sleek gray floor.
After no call for another few minutes, you’d figured the two of you had been early, or perhaps your employers had their hands full with something. Kurapika’s thin yet smooth voice surprised you, breaking the silence. “Talking to that man, were you being honest?” Kurapika had been wondering about that conversation ever since it happened. It was the most assertive you’d ever done from what he’s seen, that is before you backed off and sauntered away with him, safely so to his relief. But he still couldn’t help but think whether honesty or fear made those words form in your mouth. Did you say that because you believed it, or because you feared being on anyone’s bad side? To him you were an enigma, a tricky one at that. Kurapika never put much effort into reading other people unless they were his opponent, yet you’re usually unknown and unspoken thoughts had always peaked his interest.
“I was.” You declared.
“Really?” He sounded sceptical, or maybe just indifferent.
“Really, so honest I almost busted our cover.” You sent a smile his way, and Kurapika wasn’t sure what to make of it. You could tell he wasn’t fully convinced.
Later, after waiting for what felt like hours, you reached under a cart nearby, hands landing on small bowls. Rice! You’d be lying if your stomach wasn’t writhing this entire time, you hadn’t eaten for most of the day now. Placing them on top of the cart, you searched for cutlery, eventually finding a couple sets of chopsticks.
“I’ve been starving. How about you, Kurapika?” You asked gingerly. The stoic boy simply looked up at you, leaving no reply. You frowned and slid a bowl over to him anyway, hoping it would brighten his mood a little. Feasting on plain rice, you enjoyed every grain, finally fueled up again for any fighting you may encounter. Kurapika’s eyes seemed to catch something on your face, though you weren’t clueing in at all. He closed his eyes and sighed, stretching his long legs and striding over to you, who was still perched on the counter. He approached so he was standing between your bent knees, you fought your surprise when he swept his thumb across your cheek, a sticky grain of rice falling off as a result. His face was close to yours, and you couldn’t help but be lost in those marble eyes, light glinted against the red earrings beside them. You murmured something too muffled to hear. He hummed for you to respond. “...I wasn’t lying.” You managed, the only way he’d really believe you, might be face-to-face. You wondered if through your eyes he could see your thoughts with his own colourless ones. “You’re eyes...they really are beautiful, even just like this.” Actually, you decided, you preferred them like this. The lack of striking red meant Kurapika’s was a little more at ease, you preferred him in his less troubled state, no matter how stunning his scarlet eyes were. The boy was taken aback, but your hands landed softly onto his cheeks, so he remained as close to you as he was, so he couldn’t back away. “They don’t deserve anything like that.” You finished sternly with your eyes on his, you heart practically pounding, the tone of the room quite saddened. Surprisingly, when Kurapika’s hands travelled hesitantly up your arms to the hands on his face, it wasn’t to yank them off. His hands were on top of your own, and he shut his eyes, a shaky breath escaping his lips, seeming to relish in the rarest feeling in his life:
Calm.
You were shocked by the allowed closeness, Kurapika’s lithe form leaning into your own. It seemed he’d finally broken down a little at that, though no noise of defeat came from him. Silently and carefully, his head of blonde hair had descended onto your shoulder, and you felt his weight sink into your arms. Your fingers combed through his light hair as you leaned back slightly onto the counter, allowing him to relax into your embrace. It was peaceful, so peaceful.
You prayed the phone wouldn’t ring, at least not for a while...
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒
ummmmm hiiiiii ummmmmm I wrote a bit of this a while ago but just finished it up and it is 11 pm on a school night hehe haha hoho, hope someone enjoys this rando piece of writing, also don’t ding me if it’s not accurate to the manga I made half this up, is he still a bodyguard? Mafia boss? Who knows? I don’t 😳 anyways he needs hugs
