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Summary
It would be easier to make up his mind, untuck the knife from his waistband and gut Kuroro stomach to throat, if he was cruel. If he took more than he gave, whatever he wanted at whatever cost, if his every word was poison.
But his eyes are soft when he steps back, and his touch is the kindest thing Kurapika’s ever known, later, in the dark, feather light across his collarbone, down between the hollow of his ribs.
Series
- Part 1 of only the dead