Savin Me

By Inuyoshie

Chapter Nine:

It was Stark's firm belief that beds, like zanpaktous and goldfish, had owners.

The one he was in was obviously not his.

It was comfortable, but the contours that had been molded into its foamy mattress were not his. The feel of the fabric was as comforting and familiar as it would be to the owner. And that wasn't even getting into the scent- the pillow and sheets were saturated with her solid scent.

Most women have soft, delicate scents when one is in the room with them, but beds aren't soft and delicate. They are strong, fortresses of the mind and soul.

Stark was in the wrong fortress.

Well, it was less of Stark being in the wrong fortress, but the wrong person was in the fortress Stark was in. That girl... Stella? Stella yes, she should be lying in her bed, glancing around her neat but lived in room. Stark sighed softly, staring at the ceiling. He really shouldn't complain- the family was very kind for taking in a random stranger. For all they knew he was a homicidal monster or something. What if he had been Grimmjow or one of the other more violent Espada?

And speaking of the Espada, what exactly happened? Stark was pretty sure he died. And if he was still alive, where was Lilinette? It felt… wrong without her. Lonely.

Stark smiled bitterly. He should really be used to loneliness by now, one would think.

Yawning, the man rolled over, lying lazily on Stella's pillow. Her shampoo smelled like pineapple.

"Hey!"

Stark blinked, turning. A male cat (don't ask how Stark knew) was sitting on the bed next to him with wide green eyes and grayish white fur. The cat's tail was lashing behind him angrily. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Trying to sleep," Stark replied, looking curious.

"This isn't your bed! Where is my human!" the cat yowled.

"She's in the living room," Stark replied, sitting up. It was hard to sleep with an irate cat on the bed.

"Che. You smell like dog," the cat grumbled.

"Wolf," Stark corrected.

"Wolf, dog, same difference," the cat replied snootily.

"There's a difference," Stark retorted.

"Nope. None that I can see," the cat sneered.

"Have you ever even met a wolf?" Stark demanded, scowling.

"Don't need to. Mutts are mutts," the cat began grooming itself. Stark made a face.

"That's disgusting," he muttered. "Can I sleep now?"

"NO." the cat growled, tail lashing again. "Go get my human,"

"Why should I?" Stark wanted to know.

"You're the dog here, fetching is what you do," the cat replied. Stark reached over and picked the cat up by the scruff of his neck, standing up. The cat writhed and hissed, very angry, and demanded to be put down in a rather rude manner (as well as saying something about Stark's mother and a yeti). Stark calmly ignored the cat and descended the stairs quietly. As soon as they left the room, the cat became quiet too, almost… fearful. Stark glanced at the cat curiously, and then saw the Stella girl's mother dusting some resin bears on a shelf obsessively. She glanced up at Stark and pursed her lips.

"You can't be down here," she announced. Stark blinked sleepily.

"Why?" he asked. The woman made a face as if he just slapped her.

"I'm having company over," she replied, as if it should explain everything. Stark yawned and shrugged, turning and heading back upstairs. The cat whined once Stark was upstairs and Stark let him go. The cat raced down the hall and stopped at a small door. The cat scratched at the door imploringly, garnering a muffled 'Lynx, go away,' from behind the door. Stark knocked on the door politely.

"Coming," the voice muttered. Stark could hear things shuffling, and the sound of feet padding down a set of stairs. The door opened and Stella peered out at Stark. His nose twitched as a wave of air came from the upstairs, air that smelled like dust, old clothes and blood.

Fresh blood.

"Are you injured?" he asked slowly. Stella's eyes widened slightly, and then gave a slight nod.

"I… got a paper cut," she lied quickly. There was too much blood smell for it to be a paper cut. Stark frowned slightly, and sighed.

"Your cat was worried," he explained, pointing to the cat, who was winding around Stella's legs, purring.

"I see," Stella remarked, tugging her sleeve down. "I'll pick you up later, promise,"

"Mrow…" the cat (Lynx, was it?) whined. Stella turned and climbed the stairs. Stark followed. Stella turned at him, frowning.

"Why are you following me?" she asked her voice slightly hostile. Stark shrugged.

"I'm curious what's up here, and your mother won't let me go downstairs," he replied.

"Is she dusting?" Stella asked.

"Yes," Stark said.

"Ah. She has company over, and doesn't want to explain why you're here." Stella translated, ducking behind a pile of boxes in the dusty, cluttered attic. Stark noticed an open box of clothes, similar to the ones he was wearing. He also spotted a cedar box with two pictures in it. One was a picture of a smiling man with a stubbly chin, warm eyes and cheerful dimples. The other picture was of two people, Stella, and a blonde girl with curly hair and a wide, bright smile.

"…That's my dad," Stella said quietly, pointing to the picture of the man. "And that's Ester. She's my best friend,"

"Ah," Stark nodded, glancing over. Stella had a large quantity of gauze covering her arm. Stella noticed his gaze and tried to hide her arm. "…You cut yourself,"

"If you call me 'emo' I'll hit you," Stella muttered.

"I wasn't going to," Stark replied, not really knowing what 'emo' meant anyways."So your friend and father…"

"They're dead." Stella said her voice flat emotionless. She sat on a box and seemed to shrink on herself, her dark hair hiding most of her face. Stark sighed, sitting down on the floor. He could faintly hear the sounds of animated talking and laughter from downstairs, and see the pale, watery sunlight of winter stream in an attic window. Stark glanced at the shaving blade that lay next to the box with blood still smeared on its edges and on the floor, angry red caressing sleepy tan.

-/

Inuyoshie's After the chapter special

Meh.

I knew someone in high school who cut herself, and she took great offense to the word 'emo'. Unfortunately, I use that word a lot in my vocabulary. It's just part of my natural language, just as much as 'Que Bueno' and 'Shen me?' and such.

Talking cats. Cats have a sixth sense, as determined in the roleplay I did with a good friend of mine, Rayna Lissesul, so Lynx could talk to Stark. Doesn't seem to like him though.

Lynn, Stella's bitch of a mom, has mixed feelings about Stark. These shall be further explained later.

Indeed.

Sorry about the long update. T-T Do review if you wish.