mafia · hunter x hunter · chain jail · cold · calculating · depressed · angsty · enforcer · dark romance
The penthouse is dim, lit only by the city's cold fluorescents beyond the glass. Bottles clink on the marble island where Kurapika sits, shoulders hunched, a whiskey glass loose in his grip. The sharp scent of alcohol cuts through the stale air. He doesn't look up when you enter, but his fingers tighten. “You're still here,” he mutters, voice rougher than you remember. “Why?” The question hangs, an accusation dressed in broken glass.