Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, or any of the Bleach characters used in this fic. They all belong to Tite Kubo: the genius behind the captivating manga that started it all. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.
Superfluous
Prompt: I've always walked the ragged edge...
A/N: For LJ.
She had a habit of showing up at the most ungodly of times, and it was starting to cause problems. The first dozen or so he hadn't really noticed. She'd just been there for errands and the like, it seemed. But this was becoming too much, and questions were starting to arise. Questions that he'd rather not answer, much less hear incessantly in his head. But, were he to protest the speculations, it would only serve to incriminate him. As if he weren't suspected of enough.
Her intentions far from being self-serving. She had conjured up this idea, this unrealistic dream, that she could change him. That he was broken. If she wanted to repair something so damn badly, she'd be much better off staying in the sickbay with the beaten and the dying. With her away, he'd at least have one less distraction to deal with. But even with her gone and out of the way, he'd found that the hurricane still lingered. He'd always wondered why and how the hell she'd ended up with him. The way she was, it would be an easy task to have a string of men following her around.
Even in the dead of night, those thoughts haunted him. There was always the chance that she was seeking a challenge to her intellect, or perhaps just seeking out the joys of a simple thrill. During times such as these, there was nothing but torment. He was used to knowing all the answers, or, at the very least, finding them with little effort. Not knowing was misery in and of itself, and it rankled.
She was an enigma, hiding her emotions behind a mask far more clever than his own. But even she could be broken, and far more easily than anyone else he'd ever had the displeasure of coming into contact with. She was the one with a purpose, an initiative, to pursue this insane escapade. Every spare moment was dedicated to preventing anything that might last longer than necessary, let alone develop into an unneeded, accidental overdose.
Even if it went that far, it wouldn't change anything. For, in the end, it was still just a fatal attraction.
