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“After years of ignoring me and pushing me away, what the fuck gave you the idea that I want anything to do with you? Huh?” I had never heard Leorio’s voice filled with so much venom, so much hatred. If words could kill I would be dead ten times over already.
I opened my mouth to speak, to explain, but he cut me off, “I don’t give a shit about your revenge or your mission, that’s no excuse to not answer any of my calls, or even my texts?” I blinked several times to try to keep my tears at bay, but it was futile. I’m sure my eyes are as red as his pissed off face. “Did you listen to my voicemails? What about the boys? You can’t imagine how many times I held Gon while he cried over you, and I had to pretend my heart wasn’t already broken.”
I- I never wanted this, wanted that. I never meant to hurt anyone. I was protecting you! All of you. But the words died on my lips… all I could do was hiccup another sob, his hard glare void of sympathy. “Hell, even Killua cried over you. Killua, who has been to hell and back cried over you and you never even answered a single text.” Oh gods, I never meant for this to happen. Killua doesn’t deserve more pain, and neither does Gon. Gods, neither does Leorio. I can’t fix it though, I do not know how.
“It’s been years, Kurapika, we’re done,” there was such a finality about his voice, no room for argument. “And don’t you think you can go crawling back to Gon or Kil, they gave up on you long before I did.” I didn’t think it was possible for Gon to give up on people… “I’m not your personal doctor to fix you up whenever you’re in trouble just for you to leave me more broken than before,” his voice was wet and shaky, but he was not stopping, “I watched my best friend die and nothing has hurt me more than you have.”
The tears in his eyes disappeared, all that was left was rage. Is this what I looked like while looking at the Phantom Troupe? “You’re a monster, Kurapika, you spent your life seeking villains to kill when all you had to do was look in the mirror.” I let out a choked sob but he talked over it, “the worst part is that I don’t hate you, I’ve tried and I just can’t hate you. You deserve for me to hate you, for all of us to hate you.” I do not have it in me to argue with him. “I hate that I still care about you, I hate that I want you to be okay,” he took a shaky breath, “And I hate that the only way for anything to be alright again is for you to be out of my life for good. No more questioning, no more showing up in the middle of the night.”
His voice was back at its full fury, “I will not let you walk back in my life just to leave again. And even if you promise you’ll stay this time, which we both know is a cruel lie, I can’t trust you.” I don’t deserve your trust… I never should have come back. I've always been meant to be alone. The gods made that clear the day my brethren were cut down, leaving me behind. “I’ll never be able to trust you again. So just, leave. That’s what you’re best at,” there was no hint of doubt or hesitation in his voice.
And I did, I turned around and I ran as fast as I could, faster than I ever did on the Hunter Exam. It’s always been easier to leave than to stay, yet I can not see where I am going with the tears blurring my vision.
The moment I woke up I was shooting it in bed, not caring about jostling Leorio awake, hand over my mouth. I already felt the vomit escaping my lips and trying to push past my hand as I jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. I was not able to hold it all in, spilling some of my mess on the tile as I opened up the toilet and released everything in my stomach. I gagged and choked on my vomit as I tried to get it out of my system. Quickly, there was no food left in me to dispose of, but the nausea hit me just as hard. I coughed until I was gagging again, forcing bile out of my throat.
My bangs stuck to my sweaty forehead, but as I leaned over the toilet some of my hair got in the path of my throw up. It was only when I got my hair dirty that I let out a cry, tears springing to my eyes. With one hand still covered in vomit and the other barely keeping me steady on my knees, I just had to let the tears pour down my face. The tears blurred my vision, snot already beginning to escape my nose. I was panting through my mouth but that only caused me to gag again, coughing up more acid. Between my runny nose and my coughing, there was no air getting into my lungs.
I could only cry harder as I desperately tried to suck in oxygen to no avail, barely getting a small gasp in before I was choking it back out. Hyperventilating is what I believe Leorio called it once, when I was having a panic attack. But he’s not here, and he won’t be here. I don’t deserve him, I never should have come back. I need to leave again, he was right , I have no right to stay. I’ll leave when I’m done here, if I get up now I may faint.
I can only be thankful Leorio made me sleep without my binder on.
Those thoughts only succeeded in making me cry harder, my eyes squeezed shut but that did nothing to slow the tears. I continued to gasp, snot running into my mouth causing me to gag again. My throat burned as acid tried to make its way out of my body. A long line of spit hung from my mouth as I leaned over the toilet, refusing to drop into the dirty water below me. I’m pathetic. I let out high whines as I cried helplessly. Puke was already drying in my hair and on my face, the snot refused to dry though, still pouring out of my nose in long strings I desperately wanted to wipe away. The tears never ceased, coming out of me in gasps and wails as I still was unable to fill my lungs.
Over my ringing ears and pathetic sounds, I barely heard a voice, “Pika? Where’d you go?” Leorio called out, concern lacing his sleepy voice. Go away. I told him internally, even though all I wanted was to be held and told that everything is going to be okay. I’m not sure if he heard my sobs or my hyperventilating or my gags or what, but he entered the bathroom quicker than I had expected. “Oh Peeks,” his voice was drenched in sadness and worry and I could not place why. I was unable to see him, my eyes swollen and my hair stuck to my face, but I am certain he must look disgusted.
Instead of slamming the restroom door on me, pissed for making such a mess and waking him up, he came up next to me. He was careful to avoid stepping in the vomit on the floor, coming to kneel beside me. He placed a hand on my back, rubbing gentle circles as he cooed, “I’m here, Pika baby, I’m here.” I whimpered, knowing I don’t deserve his comfort, but even if I tried there was no possibility of me getting out words. “You’re having a panic attack,” he said it like it is not something to be ashamed of, “can you try to breathe with me?”
I shook my head, only aggravating my increasing headache with a whine. “Why don’t we try, yeah?” I could hear the smile in his voice past all the worry, “try to match my breathing best you can,” he instructed gently before he took an exaggerated breath in followed by an equally exaggerated breath out. I attempted to obey, taking a shaky breath in only to cry in place of an exhale. “That’s okay,” he rubbed my back comfortingly, “you’re doing so good, Sunshine,” he praised me even though we both know I’m doing nothing but good. “Let’s try aga-” I cut him off as I gagged into the toilet, more bile seeping out of my mouth, some of it snagging my hair on the way down. I released a sob immediately after, trembling harder than ever.
He turned slightly away from me, I can’t blame him , and used his hand that wasn’t rubbing my back to dig though a cabinet drawer under the sink. He seemed to find whatever it was he was looking for, shifting back to face me. He took his hand off my back and I immediately felt a chill where it had been. “I’m going to touch your hair,” he informed me as he began to to gather all the strands in my face and pull them back, revealing how horrendous I look. Eyes swollen almost shut, red not only from my Kurta bloodline but from crying. Snot hung out of my nose and refused to let go as I open mouthed sobbed, the dried throw up cracking on my face. That did not seem to deter him, however, as he finished pulling my hair back as gently as he could before using a hair tie he must have gotten from the cabinet to put my hair in a ponytail.
Somehow, he did not seem bothered by the fact that my hair is contaminated with my bodily fluids.
He murmured something I did not catch before he was standing up and turning away from me. He’s leaving. Though instead of exiting the bathroom like I had anticipated, he went to the sink. He washed his hands quickly but with the effectiveness of a surgeon, before coming back to me. He always comes back… and I can’t say the same.
“Ready to try deep breathing again?” He asked as he resumed his position next to me. I could only presume that was a rhetorical question. My breathing was not as sporadic as when he first found me, but it was nowhere near even. “In… out, c’mon Pika, in… out,” his patience never ceases to amaze me, “You can do it, in… out. In… out, you’re doing so good.” I don’t feel like I’m doing well. “In… out, there you go.” My breaths were nowhere near even but I was no longer dizzy from lack of oxygen.
He said something I did not make out, as I rested my face on the toilet seat, not caring how gross it is. The coolness helped ease the burning of my cheeks as I closed my eyes. I vaguely heard water running but I thought nothing of it before Leorio was back at my side. “Head up, love,” he instructed gently, “I’m going to clean your face. When I made no movement to do so, he gingerly pulled my head up, using a damp washcloth to clean my face of all the messiness. Once my face was washed off, he tossed the cloth in the hamper and pulled another one out of seemingly nowhere before he was wiping off the hand with vomit on it. He paused for a moment, before seemingly deciding something, “I think you should take a shower, or at least bathe, before you go back to bed,” he decided, “I’m sure you don’t want to go to bed with puke in your hair,” there was an air of humor to the last part.
I let out a stupid whimper, not ready to get up.
He sighed, rubbing my back soothingly, “I’ll wash your hair for you,” his voice was as soft as velvet. “Wait here.” As if I have the energy to do anything else. I recognized the sound of the bathtub filling but all I did was rest my head against the toilet again, despite him cleaning my face. He once again began rubbing my back again and I sat there limply, waiting for the tub to fill. “Do you wanna talk about what happened?” He asked me gently.
My immediate thought was no, absolutely not. But if I’m going to leave… he deserves to know why. Then again, he does not seem to want me to leave. Why would he be taking care of me if he wants to kick me out?
I shrugged lightly, “sorry,” I mumbled out, voice hoarse and strained. He was quick to assure me that I have nothing to apologize for, as if that could ever be true. I opened my mouth, trying to form words, but unable to get any more sounds out. I closed my eyes, trying to take a deeper breath than I had been able to the entire night. Before I could say anything, Leorio had to turn off the bath tab before it overflowed.
“It’s okay, we don’t have to talk tonight. But we sure as hell are tomorrow,” he chuckled a bit. “Take your clothes off and get in the bath,” he turned around respectively, allowing me privacy as he knows I’m not wearing my binder. I slowly sat up, trying to pull off my clothes without aggravating my headache much. With that done, I stumbled to the tub, practically falling in. Some water splashed out onto the tiles, but I merely crossed my arms over my chest and sunk down lower. “Ready, sunshine?” I nodded, though he couldn’t see. I assume he took my silence as confirmation.
“Scooch forward,” he told me as he came up to me, but he didn’t wait for me to listen and moved me himself. “Head back,” once I obeyed he gently pulled out the ponytail he put in earlier. He scooped up water with his hand and poured it over my hair, careful not to get any in my eyes. Once my hair was thoroughly soaked, he began to shampoo my hair. “You work on washing your body and I’ll do your hair.” I only made a hum in response, eyes closed as he massaged my scalp.
I just let him take care of me, too exhausted to sight off my selfishness. He finished shampooing my hair and then rinsed it again. He then began massaging what I could only assume to be conditioner in my hair. He took his time, as I melted into his touch. He no longer asked me questions, or spoke at all, just letting me soak in his comfort. When he finally finished rinsing my hair for the last time, he told me once again to clean my body while he goes to get fresh clothes.
He treats me better than I’ll ever deserve.
With an inaudible sigh, I opened my eyes and grabbed the body wash. I went to work while he left the restroom. I meticulously scrubbed away all grossness from my skin, not yet finishing even when Leorio came back in. He placed my clothes on the counter, handing me a towel. He then went to work wiping down the toilet and cleaning my vomit from the floor. As much as I wanted to apologize for the mess and assure him I would clean it up, the words died on my lips. With his back turned, I exited the bath, and pulled the plug so the water would drain. I then dried off so I could be back in the comfort of my pajamas.
When I was dressed, he turned to me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Let’s go to bed,” he pressed a kiss to the crown of my head. “I put a bucket on your side of the bed in case you get sick again,” he assured me before scooping me up on my arms. I did not mean to let out that surprised squeak, to which he chuckled at me.
If I wasn’t so tired I would have come up with a retort to his laughing.
He carried me to bed bridal style, laying me down before joining me. He immediately pulled me to his chest, cradling me in his arms. As much as I knew I should leave, should free him of the pain I cause… I don’t want to. I know he said we would talk about it tomorrow, but before I can let sleep overtake me I asked, “Leo- Leorio?” He hummed in acknowledgment, “are you… would you be happier…” my words slurred in exhaustion, “without me?” My voice cracked on the last part.
He pulled back just enough to look me in my pink eyes, “what?!” He quickly lowered his voice at my wince, “why would you think that? I didn’t fight for you for years just to want you to go away once we moved in together,” he was so sure of himself, not a hint of doubt or deception in his voice. This time when I teared up, it was not out of sadness or fear. How can I leave him now? I did not have the words, so instead I leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, which he immediately returned. It only lasted a moment before he was pulling back, “baby boy, you really need to sleep. I love you,” he pulled me back to his chest, so I could hear his heartbeat.
I could only hope that me holding him tighter expressed my love well enough.