Pastel lips parted, flushed red from the temperature, to release one desperate breath after another. Heated puffs of air billowed from those shivering lips in clouds. So many gasps were released that a small, shaking palm grasped mindlessly at the brick wall he leaned heavily against.
"Shit." He cursed, finally regaining the breath he had lost.
Raking those nimble, slender fingers through dirty blonde hair, he winced, blinking rapidly as a warm, sticky stream of blood dripped from his temple and into his left eye. Quickly cupping the scrape, he stumbled onward down that widening alley.
Just one place. One house. he thought desperately. He would have liked to believe that his condition wasn't as critical- just some minor scrapes and bruises... a few cuts, maybe. But no, he was bleeding heavily from his right arm; his waist was wrapped sloppily in his jacket, soaked through with blood from the three bullets in his belly. It was a miracle he was even standing, but if he were to guess, he had adrenaline to thank for that. Perhaps, also, the fact that he hadn't been a target to begin with helped, too.
He was numb all over, on the verge of collapsing- but he needed help. If he had to fall unconscious, he wanted it to be around someone who could call for help and not freak out. He didn't need the media involved. They already had their hands full with his father's building- which was currently on fire. He also didn't need to be recognized. If he was... it might be found out that he was still alive. As far as he knew- and as far as the public knew- his whole family was dead. Including him. He'd long since wondered when something like this was going to happen. He'd experienced a few times with his mother what having money did to people. It crazed them, made them wild with envy, with rage. It was sickening to see the glimmer of greed in the eyes of every man he'd ever spoken with in his young adult life. As soon as he'd turned eighteen, his father had jump-started the idea of taking over the company so that he could retire. For that, he would need years of training, maintaining his public image, and handling his own money with care.
His eyes fluttered, the grey hue of his gaze wavering as he looked desperately around him for someone. Anyone. The pain was escalating quicker than he had anticipated, and though he'd rather be curled up all alone to rest, the thought of not waking up again was certainly a scary one.
What was worse- had no way of contacting his partners; his coworkers. He had no way of contacting the authorities, not that he wanted to. That would endanger all of his work- what he spent so long trying to create. Six years, to be exact.
A gasp escaped his slender throat, and he fell to one knee as the burning in his side became intolerable. It was like he was being set on fire from the inside. He needed water to quench his thirst- perhaps to quench the fire within him, too. He hurt more than he cared to admit. To be taken down like this was such a trifle... an irritating one. He'd spent a good portion of his young adult life trying to build a good reputation and get his thoughts out there. He'd spent so long trying to be heard over his father that it was ridiculous. Of course, a good portion was all fun and games, seeing who the public would prefer- him or his father- but after a few years it became a game to him. A competition of sorts. With his father now dead... it was rather inconvenient to win this way. But none of that mattered now. It really didn't. To be grazed by some bullets... surely this wouldn't be the way he died? Or... had he actually taken hits? He didn't know, but he needed to find out. Quickly.
Just a little further...
Rounding the corner, he came upon some apartment buildings. This alley connected back toward the main street- not the one he'd originally come from, but it was still a main street. If he continued onward, he'd be seen for sure. He glanced upward, eyes bouncing from rail to rail, from ladder to ladder, wondering if there was anyone he could safely approach this way... but, apparently, it was unnecessary.
Out of the corner of his eye, movement caught his attention. A figure in the distance, not too far ahead, but not too close either, propped against the building opposite him leaned back, cigarette perched between pale lips. His elbow lightly rested upon a railing that connected and barred a floor door. Perhaps that was his room? Perhaps, by his collected nature... he could be of some help? The weakened male pushed himself forward, gritting his teeth as he made his decision. The decision to ask this man for help.
Squinting at the figure in the darkening area, he felt the faint stirrings of recognition. This man... he recognized him somehow. From where he didn't remember- perhaps at work? He didn't know where else... The only other places he frequented was this tiny coffee shop that adjoined his college- a place where he also frequented to get his degree in business.
"S-Sir!" he choked out, voice hoarse and hollow from all the screaming he'd done earlier. Though... he didn't think he'd sound quite that bad. Or that desperate, to be honest. The man looked up, snarl twisting his full lips as his eyes flashed in the growing darkness. It was getting a little too dark for him to see... but he could sense the hostility. Fuck. Had he chosen wrong?
It was too late to turn back, now. If he feared this man, it was too late to change his mind. Far too late.
He fell forward just as the other pushed from the wall, flicking the cigarette to the ground. Trouble loomed with each step the man took, and the closer he got to him, the bigger and broader he seemed. The last thing he heard before unconsciousness took him was the sound of quickening footsteps- no doubt to catch him before he fucking fainted- and an exasperated sigh from lips that immediately formed the words: 'Fucking great.'
A pair of feather grey eyes fluttered open as warm, careful hands followed along his abdomen. The male flinched, yet remained as still as he could. The room seemed all too bright, and his head swam with sudden disorientation.
"Kurapika, right?" A deep voice murmured.
Raising a brow from his horizontal position, he nodded stiffly, cautiously, wondering if his previous hunch about knowing this person was correct, yet still guarding himself due to the other's previous hostility.
The man that belonged with that deep, yet soft voice was the same man he had seen before he collapsed. Now, he stood over him, chocolate brown eyes staring quizzically down at him. "Hmm... Leorio. Leorio Paladiknight. You remember me, don't you? I'm a supplier for your father's company."
"Ah..." so that was where he was from. Perhaps he hostility was only because this man- Leorio Paladiknight- didn't know who the hell he was? After all, he did sort of just wander up to his house for no good reason. "Well, um..." Kurapika breathed shakily. Carefully sitting up, Leorio offered his hand, and he took it gratefully. Leorio's palm was soft and gentle. He was reluctant to let go; it made him feel steady. His stomach clenched a little at the brush of skin against skin. While it made him steady, his insides were flipping all over the place. Just from a touch?
"I hate to say it, but the corporate building was attacked. My father was caught in the crossfire..." He responded softly, hoping that that stupid feeling would go away.
Leorio pulled back sharply as if he'd been stung. His gaze wavered, as if he were genuinely worried for him. Perhaps he was, but he didn't know Leorio well enough to make that accurate judgement. For now,he was just a little happy that the quaking, shivering feeling in the pit of his stomach abruptly stopped.
"And... that just happened?" Leorio asked, surprise evident in his tone. "And you're not...?"
"Not? Not what?"
"You... don't seem too surprised..."
"I don't...?"
Kurapika fell silent, leaning forward at his words, and putting all his weight on his thighs. His grey eyes clouded, misting and growing darker still as he was reminded by Leorio's words and his own. He completely disregarded how Leorio scrambled to sit him back, and he completely misheard Leorio when he encouraged him not to reopen the wound he'd just closed. His gaze, haunted by loss and the horrors he'd seen, had Leorio rather taken aback. The reaction was so sudden that Leorio hesitated for a moment.
A few tense moments passed, Kurapika gazing at nothing, and Leorio, in turn, stopping to stare quietly and intently back at him.
"Kurapika."
The young man looked up, life suddenly returning to his eyes, pulled back into reality by that tone he realized was so calming and strong to him. "Ah, sorry- yeah. A lot has happened. It's hard to process; everything happened so fast, I... I guess it still hasn't quite sunk in yet."
"I see..."
Another few moments of silence passed before Leorio breathed in and stood.
It was only then that Kurapika noticed his features. He was handsome; more so than he had first noticed. His ebony hair was slicked back, almost in an effort to upraise it, though it would seem that instead it got all kinds of messy. Perhaps it was from the outside.
In any case, bangs shifted into his face, accentuating his sharp jawline and the dark, even stubble along his neck and jaw. He was clearly well-built, body only clothed by a grey muscle shirt and blue denim jeans faded about the thighs. His toned, gorgeous arm raised, nimble fingers digging through his own hair before that intense brown gaze fell upon him. In an instant he was on his knees in front of him, fingers raising slowly, inching towards the middle of his stomach- which, surprisingly- was bare and without a cover. He must have... taken his shirt off. And fixed him?
"May I? I'd like to check your bandages. I'm positive you reopened your wounds- but that would be my fault. I asked an unfair question."
Tonguing the inside of his cheek, Kurapika drew his body back, almost in preparation for the attention his injured section would be getting in a moment.
"You're a doctor." Kurapika stated plainly. He hadn't realized at first, but because that burn was ebbed, and he was neatly wrapped in a professional manner, he couldn't be anything but.
Leorio smiled lightly, seeming to be pleased at the assumption. "Of sorts. Not officially, but I've had the training. I just don't have my license. Until I'm able to get it, I live life as a supplier. A simple man, you could say."
Kurapika winced as he murmured his soft approval to the man. For some odd reason, though he was a total stranger- well, maybe not total, but even so- Kurapika found himself trusting him. Those fingers, warm and gentle against his skin, sent goosebumps along his flesh. He closed his eyes, and let his head fall back. That touch, those sweet fingers brushing his skin... it was heavenly. Even though he was hurt, and it was a little odd for a man he barely knew to be touching him this way, it was oddly satisfying. Even if it was for a good reason.
"I'll give you more medication. You've been out for a few days. With how badly you were hurt, you shouldn't even be sitting up." He whispered, breaking Kurapika's thoughts. Though he thought it rude, that voice, rugged, raspy and... well, attractive to say the least, only added to his body's excitement.
Why was he excited over this? Over some stranger? Why was his head doing this? Was it because of the blast? Was it because he was numb all over and his head needed attention? Did Leorio get this all the time?
But what about Leorio- did he have a family? Certainly he had friends... A girlfriend? Boyfriend? He couldn't stand not knowing. Especially when he was this gorgeous.
"Yet I am... Have I really been out for a few days?" Kurapika asked coolly, feigning his composure, because he had none.
Leorio nodded slowly, apparently none the wiser. "Three days. It's almost time for bed now, but you need some food in you and some fluids. I kept you on a temporary IV, but there's only so much I can do when I'm stuck here at home. My office is better equipped for this sort of thing."
Kurapika's gaze instantly darted around at the small room he was currently. Residence. This was where Leorio lived. Where Leorio showered, ate, probably worked out those ridiculous slabs of muscle, and slept. How intriguing.
Leorio stood, distracting Kurapika once again from his thoughts. "Let me rewrap and we'll eat something."
Speaking of food... he was starving. The intense, loud growl of his stomach said so. He blushed because of it, and hid his face in his hands.
Leorio laughed, turning back toward him but with gauze and medical tape in his rough palms. He shivered. That husky laugh... it made him tingle. His adam's apple moved with each rumble; through his fingers, he couldn't help but be attracted completely. It was wrong- oh so wrong since his father had impressed upon him the need to marry into wealth to assure his position as CEO and, well, soon to be official owner and head of the company. The top dog of all top dogs. It was a little intimidating, but Leorio's light laugh set him at ease, and erased his worries.
"I hear you." Leorio teased, leaning forward. His eyes, light brown, alight with amusement, made him blush like a fucking teenager. He was twenty-four, but apparently he was a damn school girl vying with her best friend over the same crush. Competition... He wondered if he had any. Surely there was someone in Leorio's life- one who looked as such just couldn't be single. He bet, with the snap of his fingers, he could get whoever he wanted. Being an option, however, was the challenging part.
Kurapika turned away, covering his face in embarrassment from the noise his stomach made. "Sorry." He spoke quickly.
And just like that, the laughter started up once more. The attractive male waved his hand dismissively. "Don't be sorry. I'd be hungry, too. Famished, actually, if I were you right now."
His careful fingers wandered along his abdomen, gently peeling away the tape and leaning forward. His arms slid behind his slender waist, cupping the small of his back to steady the teen. Kurapika felt like he was on cloud-nine. This beautiful being was practically hugging him, face pressing into his chest, and all Kurapika could do was wait. But as he was lifted, his fingers immediately flew to those broad shoulders. His fingernails dug into that warm skin, even if it was covered a little by that damn shirt. His lips parted to gasp out in shock. His body quivered not only from the searing imprint of Leorio's fingers against his skin, but also from the obvious pain that raced through his entire body as the bandages were removed from his sensitive skin.
"Careful. Don't move too much. You're on my bed, and it would be a shame if I had to move you and keep you awake until the sheets were changed." came that warm voice. He felt his heated breath on his bare chest, and his eyes clenched closed as his face flushed. "S-sorry." he gasped lightly. One hand slipped up, grasping the nape of the man's neck; what little of his hair he touched, he worked between his fingers. It was odd how this reminded him of sex. Hot, sweaty, hard sex.
He'd never had sex with anyone in his twenty-four years of life, but there had to be a first at some point. He wondered if having sex with a god like Leorio would be a sufficient first time. Kurapika hummed at Leorio's reassuring words as they came, holding him tighter and closer, wincing as the wrap was undone with great care.
"Relax. Close your eyes. It'll hurt more if you tense up like this."
Yes. This definitely reminded him of sex. He wondered if Leorio was doing it on purpose.
He held himself up for a moment, Leorio's face practically against his rack of ribs as it was unwound from his body.
"You took a few nasty hits; while I was able to remove all the bullets, that doesn't mean you're in the clear quite yet. You need lots of rest."
Kurapika's shimmering eyes glazed over with fatigue, and while it was nice having the man so near, exhaustion was quickly taking hold like he said it would. but he had to fight to stay awake. Leorio needed him awake...
The rest of the night was a blur. He vaguely remembered being fed soup, he vaguely remembered how doting Leorio was being- spoon feeding a patient was hardly something a nurse, let alone a doctor, would do. Changing him, too. He remembered that. He remembered being told that his clothes were dirty and ragged, that his clothes were bloodied and un-salvageable. While he was told they would be burned, he was vaguely aware of being stripped completely, and put in completely new clothes. Throughout the night, he could only remember his bandages being changed another two times- courtesy of that burning sensation and Leorio's warm, reassuring voice, and those heavy hands holding him, and wandering his skin.
The morphine he'd been given- by request, of course- dulled his senses, and catered little to his memory than it should have. He had lost consciousness too many times to count. The only time he really paid any attention to his situation or Leorio was when he spoke- which he quickly found out he seldom did when it didn't concern his patient.
After the next few days, slipping by through the haze of whatever drugs Leorio put in his system, he was able to think more clearly. Though Leorio lingered and still fussed when he took it upon himself to move around, he was less adamant that he remain in bed. Over the past few days, Leorio had allowed him to creep out of the room, look around, and when the time came, he was allowed a sponge bath. His hair had gotten greasy over the time he'd spent at Leorio's home, and the elder- as he soon found out- couldn't object to him and necessary hygiene. It was awkward at times, though. Leorio had insisted on showing him what to do and how to navigate around his wounds the first time he'd gone into the bathroom, and while he batted him away, he was overwhelmed by how strong the man actually was. He'd forced him down, removed his shirt, and pressed the warm sponge to his dirty skin. Grime came off with a single swipe of the sponge- but he only supposed that was because the blasts and the storm he'd been caught up in was responsible for that. He hadn't cleaned himself since then, since he'd been stuck with Leorio since it happened. Leorio had only backed off when Kurapika's face flushed bright red when Leorio tried to assist in removing his pants. He got the hint at how Kurapika reacted to his touch.
Since then, Leorio hadn't made an appearance- only when necessary. It was a little disheartening to know that Leorio was now going to avoid him because of that incident, but then again, he also supposed that after such a thing, he was trying to back off and give him space. He was, after all, an adult. He knew how to take care of himself, but he supposed that, with his looks, he sort of looked younger than he actually was. Figured.
Leorio was probably forty. He probably saw him as one of his kids rather than a possible love-interest.
Crossing his arms, the blonde took his place on the couch next to the man in question, who, arms draped over the back of the couch in both directions, head tilted back, softly snored.
Kurapika couldn't help but smile softly at the man. He must have been so exhausted... He was only one person, and though he only had one patient, he was constantly monitoring him and taking care of him. Those palms, rough yet nimble, were gentle against his skin whenever they touched. From the looks of them, he knew that if Leorio wanted to be aggressive, he could. Certainly they could do damage- after all, if he could lift Kurapika to change the sheets and be gentle at the same time while doing both simultaneously...
Blonde hair knocked against the couch cushion, and small legs brought themselves up to perch in a small bundle next to the man. His eyes slipped closed right there in Leorio's direction. If both eyes had opened at the same time, surely it would have been awkward, both facing each other in sleep, but luckily, Kurapika closed his eyes in the moment that Leorio stirred.
"Kurapika...?" he murmured tiredly, yet guardedly.
Kurapika only hummed in response, but shifted further down in a more comfortable position.
"How are you feeling?"
Again, Kurapika managed a hum. "High off morphine, I guess."
Leorio's lips thinned at the response, knowing that was half his fault. He couldn't help it- the poor thing was tossing and turning and whimpering in his sleep... if he had kept it up like that, he would have re-opened all of the wounds...
"Are you hungry? I can make something if you want... Do you need anything?" He asked instead.
Kurapika shifted close, head thumping against that hard chest as he curled into a more comfortable ball. He felt small in the curve of Leorio's arm, but since he didn't reply, Leorio didn't know quite what to do. So, when Leorio's arm curled around his waist, it was all Kurapika could do not to purr his approval of the action. He was warm, solid, and he smelled as divine as he looked. It was almost sickening to Kurapika how he was so love-struck. Especially over a guy who was just trying to help him. Poor soul. They barely knew each other, and though Kurapika had seen him before, to suddenly act like this... something had to be wrong with him. Or maybe it was the morphine. He had a feeling that ever since he'd been here, he hadn't gone a moment without morphine. Yeah, he was blaming the morphine.
"Hey... are you okay?" Leorio murmured, craning his neck to peer down at the tiny little thing. It was quite odd having someone on him like this- especially since he was a supplier to the other's company. A company that, according to Kurapika, had burned to ash.
"I don't know," Kurapika answered truthfully, voice barely above a whisper.
It was odd that he was acting this way. So clingy, when he was strictly professional with everyone he ever came in contact with. Lifting his head, his grey eyes met Leorio's. Concern for him swelled in those brown eyes, and a soft smile found it's way to Kurapika's lips. "I just lost every member of my family. I think... I think I'll be okay, but I don't think I've registered that in my heart quite yet... forgive me for being like this. I don't know what's been going on the past few days... maybe I just haven't fully registered the loss?" he asked quietly. "I mean... I know that I've lost them all. I know that I lost the empire my father tried so hard to build. I know I lost every dollar we've ever made, and I know I'll have to start from scratch for the good of the people, but..."
"...But you don't know what to do, though, do you." Leorio suggested, tone light. His eyebrows drew in concern, and his warm, heavy palm slipped into his blonde hair. He played with each lock like he'd done it a million times, as if it was a completely natural thing to do for him- even if it was a sensation that felt odd to the younger, it still calmed him and reassured him. He found himself leaning in to that gentle touch, even.
"I'm sure the people will help you if they know you're alive. They admired your father- I know I did. There's no reason why they wouldn't take you back-"
"-There's also no reason why they should take me back. We were rich people, after all. If they tried to kill my family, that must have meant that I was a target too, right?"
Leorio was silent, but his grip on his waist tightened a little as he was brought nearer. It was a little painful because of how near to his wounds he was holding, but in the long run it was nice to be held close like he was needed.
"Let me help you," Leorio suggested, pulling back to meet his gaze. "If... If we maybe try to rebuild what you had, maybe you could help me become an actual doctor? I'm not licensed because I don't have the money for it... I don't have a position, you know? We could help each other..."
Kurapika, mind hazy, lazily nodded in agreement without thinking. Later on he would be grateful for that decision, but for now he didn't really know what he was doing. He just knew that he was tired, and that he wanted to be held. Stupid morphine... He really needed to tell Leorio to go easy on the medication. It wasn't like he was dying. He felt like he was doing pretty well for the moment... medication did more to him than it would someone else... but Leorio didn't know that. He would say that receiving a normal amount of medication was the equivalent of getting high... any more would be like an overdose. He definitely needed to tell him...
But with the warmth that emanated from the other, and the way he pulled him into his arms lulled him. He hadn't been held like this in so long...
A blanket fell across his back, and those strong arms locked around his small frame securely. "Then it's a deal." Leorio whispered lightly. "I look forward to working with you. For now, get some rest. I bet you're tired..."
Kurapika yawned rather childishly. Of course, that was probably because he felt like a little kid again. It was weird. All his life he'd never been treated like this... except maybe when he was three or four and cried when he wasn't held. Leorio's bigger body certainly made him feel small, and with the morphine clouding his mind as heavy as ever, it was impossible to believe he was anything but a child.
Nestling into that warm chest, he curled into a tiny ball, fitting the curve of his spine against the length of Leorio's arm just right. He hummed softly, burrowing into the blanket that had been provided, and tucking his face half into the blanket, and half into the solid rock that was Leorio's bicep. The man's yawn was the last thing he heard before darkness overtook him for the hundredth time.
"Momma, look what I can do!"
Glancing up, all he could see were branches and branches from that one giant tree. The tree he had laid eyes on every single day for the past five years.
"Be careful, Kura." His mother warned in the distance. All he could see of her when he turned was a warped sort of face. A splash of makeup, a hint of grey that made up her small eyes, and a long nose that he just sort of... noticed about her.
He looked away, not minding the way she was dressed. She was dressed fancy, as if she were getting ready for a party. He would be introduced to someone new today. He felt it. Every few days it was like this- a new person would show up at the house, or he would be dropped off at a stranger's home with nothing short of a 'good luck'.
Bracing himself, he threw himself at the bottom of the tree. He'd been practicing for months. He wanted to climb this tree, and he wanted to do it right. He wanted to make Momma proud of him. He wanted her to finally smile at him and tell him that he was awesome. That he was the best son she'd ever had. He wanted her to finally be happy about something that he did.
Little lips thinned, tongue sticking out as his fingernails dug into the dirty bark of the tree. He refused to grasp at the branches. She wouldn't be proud of him for that. Just the other day he'd been able to make it almost to the very top. His babysitter had to get him down because he'd been scared to climb back down, but since she'd shown him the way down, he was confident that he could get up and then back down, too, without a hitch. He had a good start, using all the footholds he'd mapped out, calculating at the mere age of eight how long it would take to disappear from Momma's sight and into the leaves of the tree.
He grunted and panted, worked his way up- and then chanced a glance downward. His smile, his swelling heart... immediately fell away.
Momma was paying attention to the neighbor girl. She had wandered into the yard while he'd been climbing, and she started crying when she saw Momma.
Frustrated by her lack of attention, he called out to her.
She wouldn't look at him. She was fluffing out that pretty yellow dress, and fixing the bows in her hair. She was doting on the poor thing like she'd just hurt herself. She didn't. She only wandered a little bit away. She liked Momma. She knew Momma.
And Momma liked her. Liked her... more than she did him.
"Momma- are you looking?" He called out, brows furrowing with hurt.
A gust of wind had him instantly clinging to the tree, tense, blonde hair fluttering in his vision. He couldn't see, and when he tried flicking his hair from his face, it didn't work. It got worse. He couldn't see, and the wind wasn't helping.
He let out a soft cry as he grabbed the next hold blindly- and fell.
His body hit the ground with a harsh thud, and his head swirled and his vision got fuzzy. He felt like his body was moving, but it wasn't. He felt the hard ground beneath him... and he couldn't breathe.
"M- ah, Mom-Ma," He panted, whine forming in his throat. He was convinced that he was dying. That his breath would stop, and that his heart would stop, too, because it hurt too much to go on.
Momma rushed over, the little girl's hand in hers. "Kurapika! I told you... I told you to be careful." She scorned harshly.
His little body didn't know what to do about her harsh words, but he did wince at the tone she took on. Disappointed. She was disappointed with him.
'Get up. Shake it off. Go inside and take a bath. I'm taking Sophie home. Your father should be back soon." She murmured, fluffing her dress. She yanked up on his arm, and brushed him off with quick, sharp brushes with her hand.
He whimpered, but she shushed him harshly. "Go inside. Now." She ordered, huffing.
She didn't even wait for him to get inside before she was stalking off, swinging the little girl into her arms. She cooed to her, telling her what a good girl she was for not crying. What a pretty girl she was, and how her Momma was lucky to have such a beautiful little girl as her.
He envied her. He hated that little girl. He hated her with every bone in his body, and he stormed back toward the house with marching, angry feet. He hated her so much. He hated her AND Momma. Momma never said any of those things. Momma only ever complained about him and what a bad kid he was. He didn't do anything... he tried so hard to be on his best behavior. He wanted Momma to smile and pat him on the head and tell him she loved him.
Pouting, He reached up to grasp the front door handle, but before he could even think about stepping backward and out of the way, the door swung open from the inside, smacking him in the face with such force that he saw stars.
...
"Sorry about that, are you okay?"
"W-what?"
"I didn't mean to bump into you- shit, let me take your jacket..."
Rubbing his temple, he grit his teeth. HIs world rocked for only a moment before it settled. Chandeliers came into view, and laughter filled the air.
Party. He was at a party.
"Kurapika, right? I'm Matthew." The man said warmly, hand outstretched, waiting for his.
Wincing, he rubbed his temple a few more times, and then shook the stranger's hand. "I'll... I'll be okay, don't worry. It was my fault. I wasn't looking where I was going."
"You sure?" Matthew pressed, "You and your father are a pretty big deal... Don't you have a speech to give? I wouldn't wear that jacket if you do..."
He waved the thought away, insisting that he'd be fine. He was twenty-four. He could handle himself. If anyone asked, he would tell them that a drink had been spilled on him. His father might get mad, but to hell with his father. Though he was his role-model and well-respected in this community, he wasn't much of a father to begin with. All he ever did when he was younger was impress upon him that it was important to grow up and know important people, deal with important people, and make sure to get something beneficial in return. Like money.
Not that he ever agreed with that sort of thinking, but money did get him toys. Money got him friends, even if they were the worst sort of friends that just asked for presents. He didn't mind so long as they pretended to want to play with him. Anything to get away from his mother who constantly nagged at him and told him to be a respectable young adult. Sometimes he wanted to get drunk and do something wild- anything just to spite her... but he was constantly being watched. There was no way he could ever get around her.
"It was nice meeting you, Matthew. What did you say your last name was?"
"Ah, I didn't. It's just Matthew, but if you really want to know, I'm Matthew McCarthy. I know my father has strong professional ties with your's, but I was thinking maybe you and I could be friends? I know we'll both take over our respected companies one day... but it wouldn't hurt to get to know each other better and do business as usual, right? It could prove to be beneficial to both of us..."
True. It very well could be. The McCarthy family had a pretty strong influence in places like China and Russia- Japan, too. All were strong countries, and if he could contribute and forge relationships with them, too... perhaps he could expand the company globally. That would be quite the achievement. Even his father hadn't achieved that- and he'd struggled to reach further than the national level. He could definitely get his name out there and succeed his father overwhelmingly if that happened...
Grinning, he nodded. "Of course. I think that would be nice. When we're old maybe we could strike up golf. Perfect the art of pile-driving. Or something of the sort."
The man cocked back his head and let out a bellow of a laugh. It was wildly unattractive, and it made most of the surrounding guests slip further away from them. Kurapika laughed softly, too, just a sort of play-along.
"Yeah, that'd be nice. I'd love to talk to you more, but I was actually on my way to speak to my father now. Here's my card. Feel free to text me whenever you want. It was nice meeting you."
Kurapika waved, all smiles until that lanky form slipped into the crowd. He found himself exhaling, shoulders relaxing in exhaustion. Just an interaction like that was difficult to maintain. He hated these events. Hated that every time there was one, that his father dragged him off like it was the job of the century. Just because his father had to be present didn't mean that he had to, too... but that wasn't the Kurta way.
Ever since his father had built Kurta Enterprise- a wildly successful tech company that his father built from the ground up. He had the latest in technological advancements, and had a line of employees that researched and developed anything he asked for. It took years and a hell of a lot of money to get started- but when his very first advancement became wildly popular- an engine that could run on carbon dioxide- He was able to mass produce and distribute. He was never able to make connections overseas due to the nation's distrust of how such a thing could be used. Despite this, the nation had supported Kurta Enterprises, begging for more.
And that's what this event was for, he supposed. His father wasn't completely environmentally safe, he knew that much... but he did it at first because he had some environmentalist workers that had slipped him the idea. Now, he was coming out with a new gadget. It was a type of scope that allowed hunters to shoot from extra long range. Through that scope, not only would it allow someone to peer at it's target, it would also tell the holder how far away it was, and where the gun attached- after a little calibration- needed to be held. Such a powerful thing could start wars. Could kill so many people.
Kurapika knew that the death rate would skyrocket, but it couldn't be helped. His father had put his life into creating it, so for now it would have to do. This even was solely to present the item and gauge the public reaction.
A firm palm rest upon his shoulder, and he spun around, gasp escaping his lips as he was yanked from his thoughts.
"Kurapika."
His father. This cold, calculated gaze was his father's. In some way it eased him, but in others... it didn't. It was still cold and guarded. Still critical and suspicious.
"Despite the questions I may have for you about the McCarthy's and what was said, I think you should be the one to present the scope."
Another gasp escaped him, and wild grey eyes analyzed the hell out of his father. How serious his father was, he could never tell. "Wh-what? But..."
"No buts. Do it."
"It's your life's work!"
"There'll be other things. I want to see how well you do. You've seen me do it a million times. As long as you tell them that I created it, then it shouldn't be too hard."
He stood there for a few moments, awestruck yet left dumbfounded. Disbelief was what he felt, but what he displayed wasn't that. He wanted to prove to his father, even if it was completely ridiculous, that he could present a brand new item he knew virtually nothing about.
"Very well." he replied coolly, squaring his shoulders. He stepped back a little, turning to glance at the table that he'd have to present at- but a high, female shriek alerted him. Shots rang out, and though he didn't know where it was coming from or who was being aimed at, he dove for the floor.
He wanted out. He needed out.
Panic set in in the worst of ways. His throat closed up as more shrieks filled the air, deafening his hearing. He could barely hear the next few shots. He barely felt the burn that tore through his side and his shoulder. He barely registered how he bled, and how his father lay on the ground, face down, completely still.
Screams and footsteps sounded, as if a hoard of people were running around, unsure where to go or what to do. So many people were here... and all he could think about was getting out.
He crawled on his hands and knees, hissing at how much he hurt just then. The pain was exceedingly difficult to bear, but the fear of dying drove him on. Drove him towards the door before anyone noticed where it was. He didn't get to it. It was closed- but the window right next to it, though... that was open. No doubt to let in fresh air for the guests.
Without thinking, he bustled towards it. Shot after shot rang out. Sirens wailed, and the emergency water spouts kicked on, sprinkling from the ceiling. More panic. More disarray. More bodies lay still on the floor, some laying on their side, blood dribbling from their mouths, and some even women.
In the distance he spotted his mother and two sisters panicking... and then going down. He couldn't look after his mother fell. He tore his gaze from them immediately, punched a hole through the screen, and mindlessly jumped.
Heavy lids fluttered open, awoken not only by his long, hellish dream, but also by the shouting. Kurapika didn't even know what was going on, but as soon as he heard the word 'kill' and 'target', he forced himself to awaken despite his obvious fatigue. So soon after a dream like that... it weighed heavily in his mind. Panic flared in the depths, and his fingernails dug into the fabric of a shirt.
Leorio's shirt.
Thank fucking god.
But not only did he find himself unable to move, he also found himself in a rather precarious position. Morphine still spread through his limbs and draped over him like a heavy blanket. It was hard to struggle let alone move at all. From his guess, Leorio had given him more, which he hated. It clouded his mind- but it also calmed his limbs that had seized and kicked from the dream. Already, the horror was starting to melt. The fresh memory was starting to haze, as if it had happened so long ago...
It had, actually. Not too terribly long ago, but it had been a few days. Or weeks. It had been a while, he just didn't know for sure how long.
"What the hell were you thinking, Leorio?!" a voice echoed through the small room. A voice he didn't recognize. A voice that carried such hatred, such a vile aura that Kurapika couldn't help but shrink into the comfortable, safe arms that were currently wrapped around him, holding him tightly like there was no tomorrow. As if, if he were to loosen his grip even a little, he'd be lost forever.
"I can do whatever the hell I want! I thought I wasn't supposed to be associated with you any longer- what happened to that?"
Leorio's voice was cold, calloused, and dare he even say dangerous. It reminded him of the Leorio from earlier- the Leorio that had spotted him in the alleyway and had growled out his contempt.
"I came to check in on you- there's a difference." The other voice hissed lowly.
Kurapika stirred, trying to rouse Leorio's attention, but all he got was crushed to that strong chest. His arms wound up despite the weight in them, and wound around that strong neck. A neck that tensed at the touch. His touch.
"I'm watching over him- there's a difference in that, too." Leorio murmured cautiously.
Footsteps echoed- boots against hardwood floor, tapping from heel to toe, sharp... irritated. "So you won't mind if I kill him now, then?"
Kurapika's eyes widened into the flesh of Leorio's neck as he pulled himself up, but as he turned his head to glance at the person that suggested such a thing, he shivered. Those eyes, a crystal, lifeless blue were the first thing his eyes met. The next, he was gazing on in horror as that hand raised, pale fingers clenching the shiny object that he'd seen so many times before- but never pointed at him. He stared down the barrel of that silver gun, cocked, ready to fire... ready to blow off his head. A bead of sweat dribbled down his temple, and he swallowed thickly.
Leorio spun before he could even register what would happen next. The next thing he saw was that throat. That tan throat, swallowing, adam's apple bobbing with each breath he took. "I can't allow that! He's only just recovered." Being so close to his throat like this... it vibrated and made him shiver. The protective stance Leorio took reassured him just a little that nothing was going to happen to him. Not with how Leorio was shielding his body with his own.
"I could put a bullet through you, too, you know..." The other threatened.
Kurapika peeked over that rounded shoulder, but saw only a fluffy white cloud of hair. For a moment, he was confused. For a moment, He wondered if an old man was threatening him... but it didn't sound like it. The voice sounded young- like his and Leorio's. He craned his neck up further, despite Leorio trying to encourage his head downward. If someone was trying to kill him, he wanted to see who.
Cold blue eyes met his the second he peered over, and for a moment, they both stood motionlessly, just looking. White hair indeed. He was so young... His face was rounded, though his eyes despite the chilling look, were sunken in, darkened underneath. He looked so... tired. As if this was the last thing he wanted to be dealing with right now. The depths of his gaze reflected his experience, though, making him look far older than he had originally thought. He seemed like the type of person that was hard-edged even in the presence of people he knew and cared about. He seemed like the type of person that would always be alert and ready for anything. It would certainly explain why he seemed so calm and collected despite how he raised that gun so nonchalantly.
"Who are you?" Kurapika asked boldly, glancing at the other, passing his clothes over with a look of disdain. They were dirty, as if he'd just come back from rolling around in the dirt. "Are you... really here to kill me? Are you the one who killed my family?"
He felt Leorio's palms crush his upper back to his chest, and for a moment he felt like the older was going to suffocate him.
Kurapika felt how his guard went up- even though it was completely unnecessary, because in the next moment, the man was lowering the gun, and putting it away. All traces of hostility left those eyes, even if they did remain a little guarded.
"Someone... killed your family?"