Chapter 15

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Kurapika's p.o.v.

Leorio had gone off to school, so Kurapika was alone. His phone started buzzing. He looked over to see Melody was calling. He accepted the call and had it on speaker. He was alone and didn't feel the need to be quiet about calling.

"Hi," Kurapika said.

"Hello. I was calling to check up on you. You don't sound as stressed as usual," Melody observed.

"Thank Leorio. He's great at helping with my stress," Kurapika snickered.

"That's what he does? Prostitution?" Melody asked. Kurapika let out a weird sound of shock and disbelief. He didn't think Melody was capable of talking about crude things. He always saw her as prim and proper, and almost like a second mother. She was the only one who knew the truth about him anyways.

"Nonono! I don't pay him!" Kurapika panicked.

Melody chuckled. "Sorry, dear. I just wanted to know where your stress has gone, I apologise for making you uncomfortable. So, what's Leorio like personality-wise?"

"He's super sweet, and he helps make sure I eat good food and drink enough water. In return, I help him with schoolwork, when I can. He's also helped me be more confident." Kurapika gushed. He was blushing and he knew his eyes were red.

"Aw. It sounds like you have a crush on him," Melody said.

"What?" Kurapika wanted to deny what Melody said but knew it was useless. She could hear his heartbeat.

Kurapika sighed. "How has life been for you?"

"Pretty good. I've been working as a florist," Melody said.

"Nice. Maybe I should ask for your help if I want to ask Leorio out sometime," Kurapika joked. Melody chuckled.

"Well, I have to go soon. I hope you ask him out soon. Bye!" Melody said, hanging up.

Kurapika stared at his phone, flabbergasted. He shoved his face into his pillow and screamed.

Okay, what if he liked Leorio? He was kind, hot, caring, and becoming a doctor. What was there not to like? Not to mention, they were also good at head. 

Kurapika sat up and sighed. Kurapika decided to clean the apartment or else he'd go mad being with his thoughts.

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