A/N: Hi guys, I'm back with chapter 11.

Thanks, ScarletEyesChainUser and those who supported my story. I couldn't have made it this far without you.

I want to thank my beta reader forbiddenlore for supporting me!

Please drop me a review if you like my story or if there's anything I should improve.

It'll keep me motivated.

Thanks y'all!

"Revenge is a confession of pain."

-Latin proverb-

CHAPTER 11: UNFOLDING EMOTIONS

Whenever Clandestia has a prophetic dream, everything will come true to the smallest details. It'd feel vivid like reality, unlike average dreams.

Looking at the guy quietly sitting on his armchair, it felt like a queer dejavu for her.

It was like he came straight out of her dream earlier.

Dishevel blond hair, vacant scarlet eyes staring out the windows, blood stains and dirt all over his body.

All those traces of a fight confirmed the incident that happened.

She didn't move from where she stood. Just silently gazed at him.

It was impossible that he was unaware of her presence. But he chose to stay indifferent.

In this spacious room, they were both completely engulfed by the darkness and suffocating silence.

The only thing visible was his solitary figure sitting by the windows. The light from the city outside reflected on his poker face.

There was no sound or movement but she could feel anguish saturating the air. The eerily calm rhythm of his breathing, the rigid posture of his body, and the aberrant silence spoke it all.

It's the calm before the storm.

Clandestia slowly dragged her feet further into the dark room.

Like stepping into unknown deep water, she felt her pulse quicken at every step she took.

So… this is how the depth of his sentiments feels like.

At first, it was simply the psychic nature of her power that drew her to all these endless and violent emotions of his.

But it was no longer the same! She had seen his past. She experienced his indescribable pains. She had tried but she couldn't bring herself to let him be.

Maybe one day she would be drowned by this abyss of his misery but she knew that she'd dive right in. Like a moth drawn to the flames. She just wanted to pull him out of this unspeakable suffering.

As soon as she made a move, his unnerving guttural voice broke the prolonged silence.

"You shouldn't be here." It was a clear warning. He didn't move to look at her and his tone had never been so distant.

Underneath his cold demeanor, she felt a riveting storm of emotions that threatened to burst at the slightest trigger. He was barely containing it. But she deliberately ignored the uneasy feelings and continued to approach him.

"I know." –was her simple response.

Her petit form halted in front of him as she pulled out a small first aid kit and placed it on the table beside them.

Kurapika abruptly stood up and turned away from her. He walked over to the bed and plopped down on the cold white sheet. With arms leaning against his thighs, he gazed vacantly at the concrete floor.

He was afraid to meet her eyes because he knew it could risk losing his control. He didn't want to hurt her but he was not sane at this moment.

Unfortunately, she didn't give up. She calmly moved to stand in front of him again.

He grimaced, fists clenching. Why? Of all the choices, why does she always have to pick the unwise thing to do?

"Lady Clandestia." It's the first time that he called her "Lady" but the ice-cold tone clearly drew a line, demanding her to stay away. "-It's inappropriate for a lady such as yourself to be alone with a man in his quarter at this hour!"

Instead of responding to his spiteful comment, she adamantly closed the distance between them again and dropped down on both of her knees. Right at his feet, with her arms leaning on his sensitive thighs.

He was frozen in shock at the sudden contact. His eyes widened as his intense gaze finally fell on her violet orbs that were shining in the dark. She reached up to his face, using a wet tissue to wipe off the bloodstain on him.

The tenderness of her gestures undid the last constraint in him.

"Why?" He gritted his teeth. "You barely know me. What kind of relationship did you assume of us?"

His rage and frustration ran loose like water from a broken dike.

Why does she always have to put my limits to the test?

"Don't be conceited just because you knew a few things about my past!" Anger was all that apparent in his voice. "You don't know a goddamn thing about me. So just get the fuck off!"

His words were like daggers but still, he got no response out of her. She remained unfazed and reached for his hands, using an ethanol-soaked cotton pad to diligently clean the cuts on his palms.

In contrast to his vicious verbal attack, the way she held his hands was so gentle as if she was being careful not to hurt him.

He felt something snap in his chest.

"Why?" He asked, his voice cracked. "We're not even close. Calling us friends would even be a luxury."

Why do you have to go to such lengths for someone like me? He wanted to ask but the words wouldn't come out.

Finally, she lifted her head up and met his scarlet eyes which were now burning like fire in hell. His face twisted in agony.

"I don't care about that." She simply replied with a bitter smile.

"Leave me alone! Can't you just do that?" He was almost begging. He didn't want anyone to see him in this state. He didn't want her to see him like this.

Clandestia quietly watched the blond Kurta, with eyes full of melancholy. He was like a wounded animal curling up to lick his own lesions and shying away from the rest of the world.

The way his slender, lonesome form hunched like there was a mountain weighing on his shoulders. The tragically confused and drawn look in his eyes. This could very well be one of those bottom points in the parabola of his life. A side of him, a forbidden zone that he clearly loathed to face, let alone show to others. Nevertheless, she had forcefully invaded it, the private nest of his turmoil. And despite his desperate pleading, she did not spare him the dignity of keeping it to himself. Because she just couldn't bring herself to leave him alone, knowing what he had been through tonight. For the sake of her peace of mind, she was merciless... and selfish, too, she thought.

The tears she had been trying to hold back started rolling out all at once, like trails of pearl.

Kurapika flinched at the sight of her tears. His anger gradually subsided and was replaced by a hint of guilt, subtly shown in his vermillion eyes. He reached out to touch her face but she did not let him. Her arms flew up and pulled him into an embrace.

"You don't want to be alone!" She whispered into his disarrayed hair. "So I'm not leaving!"

This wasn't the first time that the two of them have close physical contact but the last time they did, he only felt weary having his secrets exposed.

This time, it felt so much different.

The girl's body heat and the sound of her heartbeats were sedating but at the same time, made him oddly sober.

So this is how it feels like... to be in someone's arms? To be comforted?

After his clan was murdered, he had no desire to get close, let alone to bond with anyone.

He could no longer remember when was the last time he exchange such an intimate gesture with another human being.

Kurapika gradually returned the hug. At first, it was reluctant but soon his arms moved to wrap around her tightly, almost like a drowning man clinging to his life-saver.

Now he was afraid that she'd let go of him.

She was right. He didn't want to be alone.

"Disgusting." He closed his eyes as his voice trembled. "-Why do I feel so disgusted?"

Clandestia listened to his unfolding emotions without saying a word. Her hands moved to caress his back in a comforting motion. The faint musky scent mixed with sweat and blood from his body filled her heart with heaviness.

"I thought it would ease my mind but it did not-" He finally admitted.

"I waited so long to kill them." His voice cracked. "-But why do I feel this way now? Why?!"

Clandestia shut her eyes and tightened her arms around him.

"It's alright." She whispered. "I'm right here for you."

He sighed at the strange comfort of her words. The warmth from her body, the flowery scent from her hair, and the sound of their heartbeats. Everything felt surreal.

He buried his face into her hair, finally surrendering to the warmth of their embrace.

Bizarrely, it was not so hard to breathe anymore.

It was still painful.

It was still a lot painful but he's no longer terrified of facing these emotions.

That night, in the gloomy, dark hotel room, Kurapika felt a sense of light-headedness as if he had forsaken a part of the weight inside his chest.