Kay, this is my first fan-fic ever so don't be so harsh on me. Some run on sentences are done purposefully, although I'm not quite sure about the rest…yes, my grammer is horrible.
Bleh, also, this takes place right after Rukia was injured and Orihime healed her (in like chp 214 something). Erm, yeah, enjoy!
--"Rukia, hurry up will you?"
He stopped in his tracks, his bright orange hair now half speckled with white fluff. Shaking his head in sullen attempt to rid his hair from the dampening of the little particles, Ichigo thought in wonder how they ever managed to convince Urahara for two days of escape from hollow work.
Or rather, how Rukia ever managed to do so. She had surprised him with news that they were going off to rest in a cabin, and assured him that while they were gone Urahara, along with his team of misfits, were going to handle everything. So there was no need to worry…
"And besides, you deserve it, you idiot"
Their eyes met for a second-- the rich dark violet,his wild hazel eyes--and he couldn't help but turn away.
Was that a compliment? He asked himself. Wait…why would I even ca--
His frown deepened a little more, and in defeat he gave a long exasperated sigh.
"Whatever."
Ruffling his hair now, which gave less response to his fingers,as it would've when all abound and dry, he cursed silently and decided further attempts to keep his hair in check were futile. Turning around with hands resting in his pockets, and eyes on his little shinigami companion, he said annoyingly,
"Rukia, it was your idea to come here so why don't you just hurry it up a tad—"
"That's what I'm trying to do you idiot!" She snapped back, arms crossed within the warmth of her chest and as she tried to take another step…
"Look, just go ahead and—"
Trying to pull out her left leg from the snow…
"…I'll be there—"
She managed to get her foot at least half way from the ground, which was still buried in snow since the surface of the woods were now up to her waist…
"…In no time, you—"
And sunk it in a few inches from her prior stance, but it did not make a difference. She was not making progress.
"…Bastard!"
Her last word was more so to herself than it was to her orange-haired companion. She looked down in shame as she knew she could not trudge along further within this deepening snow, but not wanting to admit defeat she scowled and continued on trying to propel her legs out of the heavy content.
She did not see Ichigo's musings. He gave a brief smile, small but never-the-less it was a smile. Ichigo knew that further taunting would just result in a sore bruising for him later on when they were safe from this beautiful falling of pristine white, so it was all he could do but watch her silently; a woman who was determined and not ready to give up—a soul driven to conquer.
But he knew all too well that her short height was many a minus points against her, and yet he still stood there, meters away, watching her.
Admiring her…
Yes, what they had said about her was true.
She was beautiful.
Among the falling snow her presence within this terrain was more suiting than other person he knew. Her skin was pale and as soft as the snow in which they have found themselves almost immersed in; eyes of brilliant dark-violet blue were full of life, and shined as the snow and ice would shine against the morning sun, melting within the warmth of its presence; gentle hair which fell as elegantly upon the small width of her shoulders as the snow would on top of its conglomerated white predecessors. Her lips…
No. He told himself. No more. You can't…not Rukia. She belonged in another world in which you can never be part of, she has friends and memories that you can't ever live long enough to surpass, she has Renji…
Yet as soon as he had begun his worrisome thoughts a shrill giggle rang within his ears, a sound so heartwarming he couldn't help but wash those worries away. Rukia had successfully pulled herself out of her prior hole, though inevitable she would get stuck again, a smile of victory made itself plastered upon her face…
His lips parted. Just a little. It opened up a crevice which allowed the fresh cold air to seep within his mouth, a sharp intake of cool which reminded him that he was breathing in the very air the goddess of white seemed to own. His lips puckered a tiny bit, a subconscious action that held a need he has always wanted to fulfill, but had not let himself think of such a want around her, near her, ever, or tried not to, not even when her eyes filled with glee after a horrific bunny drawing or when she received an A+ on her Japanese quiz and the smirks that were clear upon her face as she was set on making him jealous of her small accomplishment, or when he would watch her walking in the sunset after a defeated hollow, watch her slim body conscious of the wind and the wind, almost as if it were conscious of her, the purity of her soul, dance around her in a joyous manner of something that was…
Stop.
He gritted his teeth--tight—then furrowed his brows further, in annoyance; not because she was taking so long but because she was god awfully…
Seductive.
It was not just her frailty and her beautiful eyes, nor her soft raven-like hair nor was it her cute little nose … it was the knowledge that her features blatantly lied to any passer-by, that she was a lion at heart. She was of, within herself, independent, a being whose assuredness of the world and its workings tied together with an understanding of the pain, suffering, and yes, the love that people share with one another that made her so enigmatic, a mystery to which he had always speculated upon. A mystery of as to why he was so blessed to have had met such a being, one that not only shared his will and determination but also who cared about him, as much so as he was sure he cared for her. It was the complete and utter happiness he felt inside being with her despite the cruel taunts and the nonchalant facades…
It was the fact he could never have her—she was of a different world. She wasn't even alive.
A hint of pain.
You don't deserve her.
"Go home, Ichigo, IDIOT!"
How many times have you heard that?
"Do you think you're responsible for my injuries? Don't be so arrogant"
Yes, because it's my job to watch after you, as you've taken on the responsibility of watching over me. Because…I care for you but do you…?
Don't let it bother you…don't let it get to you…"Rukia, god damn it…" Walking abruptly towards her now, he saw the quizzical look she returned to his sudden intrusion of what, she had thought, was a great feat--and which deserved a few more minutes of triumphant cheer. Now faced with the winter scarf his broad shoulders were laced with, body lowered to meet her height, he said curtly, "Come on. Get on."
She said nothing as her tiny arms wrapped around his neck, a silent and submissive action that denoted her confusion in his sudden caring gesture, despite the harshness of his voice. As they both struggled to free her legs and successfully get them to wrap around his waist, a few crows came by cawing at what seemed to be a dying sun. They then broke off into a quick pace, neither speaking but acknowledging the fact that they were now against each other's warmth. The light of sunset now glared through the trees as the snow started to calm down a bit, and soon they had reached the confines of the cabin, a wooden feature that was old but gave off a sense of majesty; as if to say, it had been able to survive many a snow storm before and those within it would ever have to worry.
Of course, it did not provide a safe haven for the violent emotions love could evoke. Emotions in which two beings, whose attraction to each other was the reason why they both tried so hard to dismiss any glimpse of hope because…none wanted to hurt the other.
Yes. Plain idiots, the both of them.
Now several meters away from the log house, Ichigo made his way along a stone pathway that had successfully survived the rain of snow that had ceased a while ago. He slowed down a bit, about to make a rude comment on the obvious harsh aging the cabin had undergone when a sneeze from the small death goddess stopped him.
That was…cute.
Without any hands to settle any feeling of normalcy within her tingling nostrils, she snuggled her face within the back Ichigo's jacket, whimpers of annoyance abound. The goddess of death didn't like the itchiness her nose was producing, and it needed to end. Now.
"Damn this weather! This gigai body is responding in weird ways to it…"
"It's called a cold, dumbass,"he muttered, hoping she wouldn't hear.
"Fool! I'm not getting sick, how weak do you think I am!"
"Well, obviously a sneeze means you're getting there… and if there's several more on the way then—"
"A-choo!"
"Yeah. My point exactly."
"Be quiet you basta—"
Their bickering ended however as he arrived at the doorway. Ichigo began to lower himself but Rukia had already landed elegantly behind him, and as she tried to pat off the layer of snow that planted itself on her head, he fished his pockets for the key. Upon finding it he quickly made for the lock, turned the doorknob, and what he found inside suddenly changed his mood from worried, to now worried and scared. Horrified. Yes, that's the word.
The cabin had a roaring fire, which blazed with merriment in the middle of the room, just opposite of the door. A small door was next to the large cabinet, which situated itself on the right wall of the doorway, that lead tos a small bathroom. There was a small table in the far left hand corner to where he was standing, two candles lit and an elegant dinner that was made specifically for two. A wine bottle was also placed within a vase of ice in the middle of the table… and if that wasn't bad enough, thought Ichigo, the bed was right next to the doorway, facing the brilliant fireplace…that was seemed that it was…for two.
DAD.
"R-Rukia…did you?…"
Brushing past a frozen orange-haired boy, Rukia made her way onto the bed and leapt upon it, kicking her boots off before laying down, facing Ichigo, "Silly, of course not! This was all the work of your fathers, he had over-heard me talking to Urahara about your situation and wanted to help out…and he did a great job too, didn't he?"She then closed her eyes and bent her knees upon the bed, the length of her skirt unveiling her soft thighs and exposed her underwear--something Ichigo caught a glimpse of and quickly turned away.
Oh god, how am I going to survive two days of this? No, no nothing's wrong…it's Rukia. Remember that. She's an old fart…so you can't be attracted to her. It would be wrong. Disgusting. Yes. But … ---He had nights in which he dreamt of her. In those dreams he would be fully clothed, sitting on the edge of his bed, while Rukia stood naked before him, her eyes staring longingly into his; and her lips, ready to respond to any need of his, weather it be a kiss or much more than that…He would then touch her. Fingers against the softness of her skin, something he could not imagine himself doing in reality, would caress the small yet supple breasts of hers and her flat stomach, to the roundness of her butt and the firmness of her thighs. Then his fingers would slowly make their way to the most private part of her, and he would brutally enter all three of his fingers within her, all at once, feeling a rip within the virgin walls of her womanhood. He'd watch her cry out in pain as her body responded and she bent her chest forward, head against his stomach and above his waist, her mouth open and screaming his name… the thought of her mouth being so near his hard, throbbing penis made the cloth of his pants wet with pre-cum; and the length of his penis now the fullest it could possibly get, he would hurriedly unzip his pants to let it all out, a monster which sought the warmth of Rukia's being, and which found itself immediately immersed within her mouth, struggling to stay in. He had forced her in, the soft hair of hers abound in between the fingertips of his two strong hands, and rocked her along the whole shaft of his penis, the gags of her throat which made it impossible for him to acknowledge the fact that he was raping her because it just felt so good…
---Yes. A dream that was a dream because it would never be real. He would never treat her that way, but he knew that his longings for her built up to the point where his brutalness in those dreams told him that it was her that made him get this way—and too embarrassed to think of Rukia in that way during the course of the day, his body found itself satiating that need during his nightly slumber. Too often now he would wake up, pants damp with a copious amount of cum…
He shut the door behind him and facing away from Rukia towards the 4-foot tall cabinet, he unwrapped the encircled scarf from his neck and placed it on the surface of the cabinet, along with his gloves and the key. A mirror hung right above the cabinet, he could not help but spy Rukia stretching behind him, back arched forward and legs down and wrapped around at the ankles. She gave a loud yawn before turning her backside towards him, the curves of her body apparent, skirt high from her movements. He watched, and as he did he could not help but turn a deep red…
He was getting horny and he knew it.
Damn her. He cursed, I can't feel this way…not now…
He grabbed the doorknob to the bathroom door that was on the left side of the cabinet, and hurriedly walked in,"Rukia, I'm going to the bathroom."
"What are you telling me for? I'm not your mother, go ahead and go if you have too, you fool."
"Whatever. I'm just telling you as a warning. I might be in here a while showering so…"
Knowing goat face, he probably has the towels all ready in the bathroom…
"Argh, Ichigo why—"
Why was he so worried about the bathroom?If I needed to use it I would've done so already…
Rukia sighed and turned around to bark at him, but he had shut the door…and he had forgot to bring the change of clothes, which goat face had also set up and had ready inside the drawers of the cabinet.
Was he that much in need of a shower that he forgot about a change of clothes? Or is he just an idiot?
She thought nothing more of it and turned back to her original position, thinking of the predicament she was in. Ichigo in the shower…
Now that he had to come out to search for a clean pair of clothes she would be able to see his chest…
She suddenly felt hot, and realized that it was not the thought of seeing his chest alone which made her turn this red. It was … of other thoughts. Things in which the girls at school would tease about, during lunch, putting him into situations with Orihime and how their honey moon would go…a full detail of beginning to end, romantic to erotic. She could not deny that she has not thought of herself in Orihime's place, on an occasion during these girl talks...
But…
He's just a child. My thoughts are getting impure…he probably thinks of me as nothing more than an annoyance, one that has put those closest to him in danger. I can't let myself think these thoughts… besides, he is alive. I am not among the living. That is enough to set us apart…
---Erm, I'm not sure if I want to continue this…This is my first time writing any sort of story so yes, it's very bad haha…geh… OH YEAH i deleted chp 2 sheessshhhh ill rework it :grumbles and chews on cookie: BTW SUPPORT ME! i wanna become a manga artist:laffs and cries at the same time:... (obviously i'm on something. It's too early/late right now. so excuse me) P.S. Thank you guys so much for the critiques and encouragements. I <3 muchly.