About a dog and a star.
A girl of 18 years runs down the street. Not exactly beautiful, but pretty: big blue eyes, short dark hair, grey school uniform fitting nicely on her slender figure, thin legs tapping on the pavement, bunny-bag in her hand and shining smile on her face. She likes her life, her parents are kind, her teachers are patient and her friends are loyal. She runs down the street, not looking.
She catches somebody with her shoulder, bag falling to the ground, pens scattering around.
- Watch were you are going, oaf, - she snaps, bending down.
- Me? Woman, I was almost knocked off my feet! Anyway, try to grow up first, - says that rather tall somebody, also bending down to pick up her things.
She watches his hands. Long, somewhat callused fingers, large palms, maybe twice as big as hers, tattoo lines showing from under rolled-up sleeves. He ungracefully trusts pens in her hand fingers brushing, strange feeling of his roughly cut nails scraping her skin, and she wants to hold them a bit longer, like some memory she never had, but they are not there, not anymore and raises his head. First, there is hair, bright red bloody sunset orange red waterfall of it, then an annoyed low rumbling caring loving grunt, when hair is pulled to the side, and a pair of crimson eyes now here struggle rabid wild with you on the most handsome face she'd ever seen. There are tattoos on his forehead instead of eyebrows, and they twist as his eyes widen at a clear sight of her. He opens his mouth in astonishment but no sound is made. There is this strange tingling feeling, and the air even she can almost touch, like she was here before, like she…
- Do I know you? – she asks. He still stares as her. No, she doesn't yes she does and she shoves her pens back in the bag and stands up.
And then there are the hands cupping her face, soft hair touching her cheek, thirsty lips on her lips, little whispers, whimpers in between kisses. Rukia. No, no. Her name is... Something wet falls on her face. Finally. Finally what?
But he is still kissing her, and he is handsome, and surprisingly tender, and feels complete, and she kisses him back. He is too tall; she has to tiptoe.His hands are too wide; she can't get a grip on them. She clenches his black shirt, just like that time…
There is a sound of somebody running.
- Renji, you asshole, I was waiting for you there for friggin' hour. Stop flirting around and… - There is pause as a male voice goes silent. Renji…My… – Damn… Is that..? Damn. Just wait a sec you two, I just call… - hasty phone beeping. - Inoue? Inoue, call Ishida and Chad. I think we are up to celebration tonight... And call the Soul Society. We have good news for them. Tell them that it will make even that bastard Buykuya smile. Of course, dear, I'll stop calling him bastard right this moment…
Renji's hands slide down her sides, encircle her waist and suddenly he lifts her, like she is weightless. She grabs his shoulders. He stops kissing her. She tastes salt on her lips. His voice in her ear is a bit gruff and a bit smug, but she likes it that way. "I may not be the only dog who touched the star and didn't get burn. But I bet am the only one to cheat death to do it. Shine for me."
And she smiles for him. And kisses him. And cries with him for some stupid reason.