I don't own Bleach. Not even the cleaning product. I live in the middle ages where cotton was still not discovered and we were very careful not to make our clothes dirty.
Joking. But I still don't own Bleach. Enjoy this...err...prequel to Simply Irresistible.
Feel
Autumn depressed her. Whether it was the flash of colors that blinded her, or the fact that school was in session again, Matsumoto Orihime felt sad. Perhaps it was the knowledge that behind the flashes of red, gold and brown, behind all this colorful beauty hides decay. Soon the winter frost would touch the leaves and turn everything into a sort of white tomb.
It wasn't like she was always like this. No, Orihime was known to be one of the liveliest and, albeit strange, most cheerful people in the Tokyo Music Academy. However, this gloomy mood overcame her often throughout the summer, and now it weighed down on her as she crossed the threshold of the academy, to begin her final year of study there.
She didn't want it to end. Even if she had a whole year full of new experiences in front of her, the truth was that she would graduate in ten months and would have to look for a job, sign into another undergraduate course, or go into chamber music. And while those were all great opportunities, she wasn't feeling like she was willing to take either one. Job hunt was difficult for musicians nowadays, she didn't want to burden her sister by making her pay for another four years, after which she'd probably be in the same position as now, and…let's say that chamber music didn't have many places for saxophonists. For one thing, she would have to find herself a partner to accompany her, and every pianist in the Academy had already partnered up with violins, cellos, flutes, hell, even timpani, but the sax was gaining popularity in symphonic orchestras too slowly. Of course, Orihime could try going into a military band, but she didn't want to cut her hair off and get up at 3 in the morning for drill exercises.
Classes went in a blur, as she thought and thought about what to do. Truly, she could continue working for the "Jazz bar" downtown, but even her boss nagged her to find a pianist to accompany her. It felt like…no matter what she did, she had to find herself some partner, and she didn't want that. Her sister Rangiku would blame it on her high school crush, but Orihime knew that the problem went much deeper…
Ok, ok, maybe it wasn't that deep. After all, she'd been in love with Kurosaki Ichigo since the day she lay eyes on him during gym. Back then, he was a couple of years older than her and she hadn't seen a boy ever since her parents left her and Rangiku in the care of a catholic girl school. When Rangiku had gone to college and started earning money, she'd immediately transferred Orihime into a coed school, because to her, keeping girls away from boys is more dangerous than letting them in the same school. That way, at least, Orihime would not idolize their entire sex into a bunch of knights in shiny armor and would be ready to live and work with them in real life. However, it had taken Orihime one look at Kurosaki Ichigo for her to fall head over heels over head again in love.
Back then, she'd discovered music and for those years in school, it had been her consolation when Kurosaki-senpai ignored her or upset her. Of course, she never gave up on him completely-she even attempted to get into the musical conservatory that was with Todai so that she could somehow be with him even in college, but they hadn't been accepting any sax players. After some time, she was grateful for that because Ichigo met Kuchiki Rukia, fell madly in love, and her chances of ever being anything more for him than an old schoolmate were absolutely destroyed.
At least she'd had enough time to be disillusioned before she did anything stupid, like semi-stalking him or something like that. But the truth is, she'd fantasized about him for so long that for her, it wasn't a prince on a white horse, but an Ichigo in a white coat that was her idol, and she compared every single guy that she met to him. It was frustrating, especially after she'd learned that he and Rukia were getting more and more serious (via her classmate and Ichigo's childhood friend Arisawa Tatsuki). It really wasn't fair that she stopped living her life because of a guy she'd hardly been anything more than friends with.
She was just returning from the library, having already photocopied a suite for "Saxophone and Orchestra" by Darius Milhaud, the piece she would have to prepare for her end of year exams. It was still early for that, but she had to start working on it immediately. She'd also have to find herself a pianist ASAP if she wanted to do anything. However, where and how was she going to find anyone who…
"You IDIOT!" a ferocious scream came from down the hall, and seconds later a door slammed open so hard the glass on the window nearly shattered. A man marched out of there, muttering curses under his nose, flapping a large paper fan. Orihime squeaked and ducked behind a nearby houseplant-Kurosawa sensei was from the piano department, one of the best ones in the academy, but every student, from the timpani to the violin section had already learned ot avoid him when that red vein popped on his forehead. Unfortunately, there were several veins there already, and it didn't help that Orihime's quick movement had made her drop the sheet music on the ground.
"You!" Kurosawa yelled, turning around to look at her "You clumsy oaf! What are you doing, dropping things like that! Music is sacred! This kind of behavior is clearly a show of disrespect towards the composer!"
"Oi, you old fart! Why don't'cha leave the brat to mind her own fuckin' business and come argue with me, eh?" a rude voice echoed from the room and Orihime saw between the leaves of the plant a tall man approach, his white hair in disarray, no doubt from getting smacked over by the sensei's fan "Ya have a problem wit' me, not her!"
"You shut up! Shut up! You are in no condition to pose threats, Grimmjaw, you underachiever! How dare you insult the great Liszt by playing so recklessly!"
"I'll play it however I want!"
"No you will not! You're expelled. Gather up your lousy self and go back to Spain or wherever you came from!" Kurosawa yelled, kicked the sheet music Orihime dropped, and stomped down the hall. The other man, Grimmjaw, looked after him for a while, breathing heavily, before looking over at the girl who was still cowering behind the plant, her hands frozen halfway to her ears. He let out a string of highly offensive curses, before kneeling down on the floor and looking over the plant to the shaking girl.
"Oi! You alright?"
"I…I…I've been better." Orihime mumbled weakly, before attempting to scramble over to her sheet music and collecting it. However, her hands were shaking, and she dropped the leaves more than once. Grimmjaw sighed, scooped them up, arranged them in place and tried to bat away the dirty shoeprints they had gotten thanks to Kurosawa's stomping around.
"Here." He shoved them in her face, and accepted a sputtering thank you. "You play the piano?"
"N….no."
"Then why are you here?" he asked crossly, eyeing her carefully. Orihime felt herself blush. She was taller than most of her classmates, and her big breasts and ginger hair always gave people the wrong impression. Somehow she felt like she didn't want this guy to look at her so intently, so she attempted to hide herself behind the music.
"Photo…copying." She mumbled finally. Grimmjaw sighed.
"That ol' fart scare you that much?" she nodded weakly "Fine then, come over here." He grabbed her hand unceremoniously and dragged her into the practice room where he'd been a few minutes early. "Sit here." He ordered her and she complied, taking his teacher's chair a little reluctantly. "Whaddya wanna hear?"
"Ugh…whatever…" She mumbled, rather uneasy
Grimmjaw snorted, before placing his hands on the keys. After a brief thought, the music from Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody No.2 echoed in the room, engulfing Orihime entirely.
Her mouth fell slightly open and she felt herself blush. That man, so absolutely spontaneous, so completely wild, played like some reckless biker drove-wildly, following nothing but his own rules, commanding the tempo and the harmony completely. She could see why Kurosawa had been mad earlier-for a perfectionist like him a performance like this one was definitely insulting. However, there was more to it. Yes, it was reckless, but it was reckless in a way that suggested that the guy could and would play it properly when the occasion called for it. He liked to command, in music, and probably in life. Just listening to him made Orihime feel embarrassed.
He stopped and sighed. He'd really just wanted to irritate the old man, maybe make a joke, but that sensei always had a stick up his ass…He didn't know whether it gave him a thrill or it was just his nature to bully people. Grimmjaw glanced at the girl, who was still standing there, opening and closing her mouth like a fish.
"Aren't you playing the other part?" she finally managed
"Not today, sweetheart." He cracked a grin, although it was a little hard. She looked like she'd walked out of a natural disaster, and it had only taken less than thirty seconds with his teacher to render her to tears. Damn it!
"Have you ever accompanied someone?" She asked quickly, startling him. Accompanied? "I need a partner! Please, I can't find anyone to help me here! I need someone to accompany me or else I'll completely flunk!"
"And you think I'll do it because I was nice to you? Sweetheart, don't get in over your head."
"I am not! Look, this is a great opportunity! If you accompany me, they won't be able to expel you!"
"Do you really think they'll expel me? Honey…do you even know who I am?" he laughed "My name is Grimmjaw Jaggerjack. I didn't come here on my own will, honey, they practically begged me to join their exchange program. They won't expel me, whether I leave or not depends on me and me alone. I don't need to reassure my positions here."
Orihime blushed profusely. Of course, why hadn't she figured it out? That guy was so cocky because he knew they wouldn't be able to kick him out even if they wanted to. The most reasonable thing now was to hide under some chair and stay curled there till the end of time…or walk out and work her way through a pint of ice-cream. Both sounded good at the moment, but she knew that only one was acceptable.
However, this time the sting of rejection wasn't so much disappointing as it was encouraging. She suddenly felt like persuading him, and she knew that she could win, if she played her cards right.
"You don't have to answer my question now." She replied, suddenly feeling energized. She rummaged through her pocket and pulled out a card of the "Jazz Bar". Handing it to him, she explained. "I can see that you don't feel like working with someone who you'd just met, but if you're curious, I work here every night from eight to eleven. Please come listen to my music sometime. If you want, we could play together." With that, she waved at him and walked out of the room. It didn't occur to her that she hadn't told him her name until after she was out of the building.
Orihime loved the "Jazz Bar". Not only because there, she had no problem playing the music she loved, but also because of the ambience. Everything was quiet, clean, very unlike the crowded discos and dance clubs located all around the Ginza district. The "Jazz Bar" offered a comforting, relaxing ambience for the people after a long work day, and sometimes Orihime's lively music raised their spirits.
Costumes were one of the few things she'd let her sister buy for her. Rangiku had had a blast picking out all the different outfits her sister could wear on stage, and tonight's choice was one of her favorites. The black, well tailored suit caressed her body without hanging out of place, and it made her feel sheltered and confident at the same time. Orihime took a deep breath, and stepped on the stage.
As a rule, she didn't look at the audience until after the act was over. It was easy, since the bright lights blinded her eyes, and she really didn't need her sight when she was out there. Tonight, however, she made the criminal mistake of looking around for any sign of blue hair, and, upon finding none, he spirits went down a little. She recovered quickly, though, and cheered herself up with the thought that it might take him a lot of thinking to come here and hear her play. It was her duty to do her best all the time, and if he showed up…when he showed up, he'd see how fun it was, how great it was to play with someone. Putting her lips around the mouthpiece, Orihime played a little teasing introduction before launching into her routine for the evening.
For the next week, every night, she went on the stage without even glancing at the bar, imagined the light engulf her and played with all her heart and soul. It wasn't difficult, she always gave a 120 percent when she played, but it was easier to channel her emotions when she directed them to one person, one person that may or may not be in the audience, but a person she'd invited there either way. In the past, she couldn't afford herself this lie regarding Ichigo because she knew that even if she invited him, he'd never come, or if he would come, he'd never be alone. He'd never show up to listen to her especially. Grimmjaw could come for a drink, but he'd know she would be playing, and if he came out of simple curiosity, that would be enough to make her day.
She didn't give up, although she purposely didn't look at the people, out of fear of being disappointed. Maybe, she would have ended up fantasizing about him, sitting on a stool every night at the bar, his feline eyes fixed on her as she moved gracefully around the stage…if one night he hadn't put a stop to the thoughts that would lead to such fantasies by coming to see her in the dressing room after her performance.
"Nice suit." He commented on Monday night, making her feel strangely naked even in the safe confines of the black cotton shirt and pants. "Nice routine too, although I can see you don't have much room to deviate."
"If Mike hadn't return to America, you would've seen how cool it's with a drum arrangement." She said, nodding weakly. He looked stunning tonight, absolutely gorgeous in his form fitting jeans and black dress shirt, open mid way, revealing a muscular chest and abs. A blush threatened to spill on her cheeks, but she batted it away hastily as she started to take her make up off.
"A piano would do better." He said "I accept."
"Huh?" she stumbled and turned around to look at him, one half of her face devoid of make up, the other one still covered in it, a black smear indicating that she hadn't completely removed her eyeliner "What?"
"I accept your proposal." He snorted "You're not bad here, honey, but you're not exceptionally good either. Without accompaniment, you won't have much more room to make an interesting routine, and people will get bored. A piano is a one-man orchestra, at least they'll have something to look forward too. Besides…" he snickered "…we can't have you flunk now, can't we?"
"Did Kurosawa-sensei decide to expel you either way?" she tried joking weakly, but Grimmjaw just snorted.
"Sweetheart, I don't care what that fart thinks, but for the sake of my own sanity, I'll put some effort into being more…ugh…in touch with my fellow students." He grinned "So, what's the deal? We play jazz here at night and we practice at day?"
"Yup!" Orihime grinned widely "I'm glad that you decided to be my partner, Grimmjaw-san."
"Just Grimmjaw, ok? I've never been a "-san" and I'll never be one. Speaking of which…" he said, eyeing her "Not that I'll stop calling you sweetheart and stuff, but what IS your name?"
"Oh…Matsumoto Orihime. Pleased to meet you."
"Hn…" he eyed her again, a strange look in his eyes, before brushing her off "Is that it? Well, honey, you better be ready, cause tomorrow we're staring and I ain't going to go easy on you!"
She just grinned in reply.
Playing with Grimmjaw proved to be just as cool as she believed. He was fiery and unpredictable, yes, but so was Orihime, and they made a good combination on stage and off it. The first time they played, they were a little off, but afterwards they built on it and advanced.
That went on for a month or two, until the owner of the "Jazz Bar" decided that they needed a change in their routine.
"What's this?" he asked, eyeing the scores she handed him
"Manager says that we need a change, so I'll sing a few pieces in the beginning while I still have air in my lungs!" Orihime chirped, her breasts going "whoop-whoop" as she bounced up and down with excitement. Grimmjaw gave her a lukewarm glance, before smacking her head with the sheet music
"Are you stupid? Have you ever sang before?" he'd heard her speak English on several occasions. Not exactly a CPA level, and her pronunciation was horrid. However, Orihime didn't even let the comment get to her, and busied herself with the mouthpiece of her saxophone.
He really had no reason to complain or oppose her, really, Grimmjaw thought as he fanned through the sheet music. If Orihime was asked to do something, she did it flawlessly. As long as he took things as seriously as she did, it would all be fine. And it wasn't like she was a baby or something-she could make decisions for herself and face the consequences that might come after that. He valued independence in people. It was probably the one thing that was important to him, whenever he made friends, lovers or even partners. He just couldn't stand the idea of some leech clinging to him, expecting him to look after them. Grown people, reduced to the state of children…Bleeech!
Only…Orihime didn't feel like an independent person. Sure, she worked for her own living and worked hard on her music, and she never really complained if she had trouble with someone, but she had that childish vibe in her that prevented anyone from taking her like an adult entirely. Maybe, in his case that was the better option, since Grimmjaw wasn't just a fantastic pianist, he was a very unyielding lover. When some woman attracted him, neither rain, nor snow, nor the wrath of her boyfriend (girlfriend, in one occasion) could stop him until he made the conquest. Sure, what came after was short-lived, but it didn't change the fact that he was a danger to anything with an XX chromosome and there was pretty much no-one in the world to restrict him other than himself.
Orihime was…pretty. No, not pretty, but downright gorgeous, especially now, in her form-fitting dress, black tights and high heels, her ginger hair spilling down her back in riotous curls. He'd sported the idea of going after her, but her being a child in so many ways kept his advances at bay. Honestly, how could he actually go after a girl who, when asked about her favorite show, answered "The Care Bears". It wasn't unacceptable, but rather…wrong.
Grimmjaw brushed the thoughts away, arranged himself on the piano and looked at Orihime, who was just taking the mike. Slowly, she nodded, and for the next thirty minutes they played their way through what could be called the Ella Fitzgerald tribute. After that, he played "Stop", just to change pace, and was surprised to hear Orihime singing along. He looked up, saw her leaning back on the piano, smiling at him as she sang. For a second, he stumbled, but she hid that mistake, and he recovered quickly.
But damn, didn't that woman have a way to dazzle people. Just one grin from her and he was blind.
"Get ready." He cornered her in the dressing room
"Huh? For what, Grimmjaw?"
"We're going to a club, honey."
"Club?"
"Come on! It's written very easily with katagana. C-l-u-b! We're gonna go out for a drink!"
"Ugh…I'd really rather not, Grimmjaw. I'm not a good drinker." Orihime smiled weakly, but instead of listening, he wrapped an arm around her and dragged her out of the room, out of the club, and into the street that was still crowded, even though midnight was approaching.
She tried to ignore the way the warmth of his hand seemed to melt right into her skin and obediently followed him to a cozy, though crowded club. Grimmjaw led her through the dancing bodies to one of the tables, disappeared for a while and then came back with a couple of beers.
"To Orihime's debut as a singer." He made a mock-toast, before patting her on the back "Nah-nah, don't be so uptight. You need to take a break, girl. You still have a year before you, and even after that, you can easily go into chamber music and have another couple of glorious years here."
"But you're leaving in spring, aren't you?" Orihime asked curiously. "So far, you're the only one who'd agree to accompany me. I don't have many options here, Grimmjaw."
"Well, the more reasons to enjoy yourself, sweetheart." He grinned, ignoring the silent plea in her comment "You need to loosen up. These are the years for you to learn to party with moderation. If you don't learn how to drink carefully now, it'll be too late afterwards."
"Really?"
"Well, duh! Would I ever lie to you?"
"Ok then! You'll have to teach me, though!" Orihime said enthusiastically
"Oh, believe me, I will!" he pinched her cheek, before taking a swing from his beer. He just hoped he would be able to survive through this.
Orihime yawned, stretching lazily. Partying hard and still be wide awake in the morning was exhausting, but she prided herself with being better now at the whole night life scene. It was a relatively simple routine-she and Grimmjaw played together, then they went to a club, where they would sit together, talk for a few minutes, before Grimmjaw found himself a target and she was left on her own vices. She didn't mind it, though. It was fun to observe the scene, and she'd learned quickly not to take more than one glass per evening. She'd even gained enough confidence to stay on the bar, instead of confiding herself to a table. Guys approached her, of course, but after she went over her initial shock, she found that some of them were pretty nice, too.
She hadn't had any accidents yet, mostly thanks to Grimmjaw, who had the uncanny ability to appear by her side just as she was getting uncomfortable. He didn't even have to say anything-just appearing close to her intimidated everyone and everything. In most cases, it was better that she didn't open her mouth either, because there would most certainly be a gorgeous woman by his side. Yes, her partner always bewildered her with his ability to be so fresh in the morning after a good three rounds of sex. She never went that far with any of the guys. Mostly because of Grimmjaw, but also because she just couldn't let herself go with them.
That guy was rude and loud, but he was also very protective. A little like the big brother she'd wanted to know, Orihime thought morosely. Sora would've been just like Grimmjaw, if he hadn't died when he was only a few months old. Rangiku was the only one in the family who had told her of him, and she hadn't done that until the two of them were left alone in the catholic school. Their parents had been devastated by the loss of Sora, but when they'd had Orihime, it had been the last drop and they'd decided they couldn't handle this anymore. When the two of them had been old enough to look after themselves, they'd abandoned them.
Orihime didn't like to think about her parents. Rangiku had been kind, caring, and sweet-the kind of sister anyone wanted. But whenever she thought of Sora, she felt a pang in her heart, wondering how things might have been if he hadn't died. She could only imagine what her parents had gone through after that huge shock, and then to have her, another girl, in the place of that beautiful son who never saw his first birthday…it was sad and melodramatic, but that's how things were.
Grimmjaw, she thought, was kind under his rude exterior. Maybe, if she befriended him properly, he would be able to open up to her.
Little did she know that friends were as far away from his mind as they could be. Even in he considered his feelings for her to be something around the brotherly love sort of thing, he'd call himself the worst brother in the world since Oedipus, since he was lusting after the younger version. No, on his part…Orihime was slowly becoming the object of his lust, and by God, this was not good. It didn't help that he continued telling himself that it was wrong, because it jolly well didn't help. For one thing, the 'taboo' aspect added a charm to the whole chase, as disgusting as that sounded.
He didn't love her, of course. He was well aware that 'feelings' was an exaggeration when it came to describing what he felt. Grimmjaw was competitive, there was no doubt in that. He was also ambitious. And he didn't stand the idea of being somehow lagging behind. The guys that were approaching her in the bars were annoying him, and he did his best to bat them away, but he didn't dare approach her in this way…not yet.
But what really terrified him was that his plan was actually working. By taking Orihime out in the bars, he had hoped to cause a change in her, and he was. She was becoming calmer, more relaxed, more easy-going around guys. He knew that he wouldn't chase them away if she wanted to be with them, but what if one day she really wanted them? What if, one day, or rather, night, she met some guy and decided she wanted to go to his room? It was horrifying him, and he didn't even know why.
Not like he wasn't giving her a good example, he thought as he played along with her one night a couple of weeks before Christmas. Winter break was nearing and he was going back to Spain for the holidays, and he wondered if Orihime was going to be fine without him for their clubbing. The worry showed in his music, and in spite of her best efforts, the songs came out wrong.
However, she didn't even have the chance to talk to him about it. Before she was even ready, he was already at the door, glaring at her as if she'd done some criminal offence against him, and she automatically hurried along with him to their latest favorite club.
Funny thing, she was referring to it as their, although technically all they did was talk a little before each of them left for their respective…err…occupations. He was a good friend, of course, but not exactly a boyfriend. She still didn't see why she was going anywhere with him, but she did and it was worrying…
"Say, sweetheart, what are you doing over the holidays?" Grimmjaw asked when the bartender brought them their drinks (whisky on the rocks for him, Manhattan for her)
"Oh, I'll be staying with my sister." She beamed "She just bought herself a place so I'll be one of the first to be there."
"Your sister?" that piqued his interest "You don't talk much. You two close?"
"Yeah, since she practically raised me."
"Will you need any help getting there? You'll probably have to pack up a lot of things…" Grimmjaw carried on, oblivious to the fact that he was babbling "I can always accompany you on your train ride, you know, or take you to the airport, and…" ok, so he was babbling. It wasn't like it was for some insignificant topic, anyway! There were a lot of perverts just looking to take advantage of beautiful girls like Orihime.
"That's…umm…great, Grimmjaw, but…" she drawled "I don't think that taking the subway will be that much of an ordeal for me. I can even take a cab, if I save enough money."
"A cab? So…she's somewhere in the prefecture?" which, by the way, wasn't little since Tokyo had about millions and millions of inhabitants on an extremely large piece of land.
"Yeah, she lives in Asakusa." Orihime beamed, causing Grimmjaw's jaw to….well, hang open.
"Your sister lives in the center of the city? And you're living in the university dorms?"
"Well, yeah. I don't want to bother Rangiku, especially when she's so busy nowadays, making her company run. It's very difficult for her."
"I see…" he mumbled "Difficult, huh…well, then…I guess I'll be off to the dance floor. See ya around, sweetheart."
"See you." She mumbled weakly, before taking a generous sip from her cocktail. Honestly, she didn't know how long she could take this. She knew that in a while he'd breeze towards the exit with his lay du jour, and she wasn't particularly fond of seeing him like that. He was a nice guy, but he never seemed to have a real girlfriend. Since he'd been taking her with him to clubs, he'd screwed his way through at least half a campus' worth. His number, at least to her weak calculations, was hovering around 44…well, 45, but she didn't know if he counted those twins as one lay or two separate ones…and was it really healthy for a man to have so much sex? Didn't they have times of the month as well? They were really a comic duo-him, the womanizing heartbreaker, and she, the tempting virgin.
Briefly, she wondered what he would say about Ichigo. Maybe he'd call him a pussy, or say he'd break his head if she showed him who he was, or smack her across the head and call her an idiot…the possibilities were countless. Only she'd never really tell him.
"You seem preoccupied tonight, Goldie Locks." The bar tender commented as he fixed something in the shaker "Your boyfriend leave you alone already?"
"Not really." Orihime said, drowning the rest of her drink in one gulp. "And he's not my boyfriend. He's my stage partner. We play jazz together…"
"And you're not lovers?" The bartended gave her a condescending smile, putting down another cocktail in front of her "On the house."
"No, sorry, I don't drink more than one glass a night…" Orihime began, but he pushed the glass towards her and she took a careful sip. "Hey, there's no alcohol in it!"
"Cinderella. Fruit juices, but when mized they're still a cocktail."
"This is really good." Orihime smiled, before turning her gaze towards the dance floor where Grimmjaw was well on his way of making his 46/47th twin one on two conquest. Well, if that wasn't quick! She sighed.
"Look…" the bartender said "You guys have been coming here at least once a week this month and something. I've been looking at you guys, and…there's obviously some sort of vibe between you, but he's always leaving you alone in the end and going off with someone else, even though he's made sure nobody approaches you or takes you home."
"I'm not bothered." Orihime smiled "That's just how he is."
"But you want him, don't you?"
Orihime sighed, looking over at him. Even in the dead of winter, he only wore one layer of clothing, and his shirts were always unbuttoned-as if the damned guy didn't feel the cold…or at least he didn't feel it when he was dancing. She knew from experience that he wore sweaters in the morning, before he warmed up. Long, cozy sweaters, the kind that you could curl up into for comfort and warmth. An embarrassing fact about them was that as soon as he discarded one when he got too hot, she would pick it up, fold it for him and leave it on top of his bag, but not before she took a generous whiff at it. She couldn't help it-his smell reminded her of summer, joy, energy. She loved that…and she sorta envied the girls who got to be so close to him, to smell him without worry, to just be with this wonderful man.
"I do." She nodded "But what should I do about it?"
"Well…" the bartender gave her a speculative wink "How about you offer him some competition?"
Grimmjaw swung the girl into his arms and felt her sister press her palms on the back of his head. Both smelled heavily of lilac perfume, and both seemed dizzy from too many Margaritas. He should take them home now, he though, letting his hands wonder…until he felt a hot puff on his cheek. He reeled around, shocked to come face to face with Orihime, who was grinning at the trio as sweetly as ever.
"Mind if I join in?" she begged in a honeyed voice that she only used when she was tipsy, and, more often, in Grimmjaw's latest wild-night fantasies. The twins nodded, one of them scooting over so that Grimmjaw and Orihime could be sandwiched between them. The blue-haired man became acutely aware of her body, close to him, pressing up to his chest, her body moving into the slow, agonizing rhythm. He felt his hands snake around her waist and pull her close, while she tipped her head back to look at him, eyes hooded, lips slightly apart. She was testing him, he thought, and by the looks of things, he was going to yield.
"Didn't know you were in for such games, sweetheart." He whispered close to her ear "Had I known, we would have invited you earlier."
"Well, you know…" she asked coyly, turning around slightly to lean into one of the girls. Both wore giddy expressions, but they were obviously ill-suited for a conversation "I once had a classmate who, you know, fell for me, and on graduation day, we sorta…" she teased, seeing his eyes grow wide.
Actually, she was only telling half the truth-Chizuru had been very keen on her, and she had kissed Orihime in the broom closet, but other than that, nothing had happened. The ginger-haired woman, however, wasn't planning on telling him that, and was pleased to see that his expression changed from playful, to curious, to incredulous and finally, surprisingly, to anger. Suddenly, his fingers dug into the flesh of her hips, bringing her flush against him. For a while, both danced, Grimmjaw keeping Orihime practically squashed against him. The twins, gingerly, moved away when other guys made the moves on them, leaving the couple alone on the dance floor.
"Damn, my pray escaped me…" Grimmjaw purred
"I guess I'll have to take responsibility for that, huh?" Orihime rasped in that low, sexy voice she used to sing. Grimmjaw stiffened next to her, pulled away slightly before growling:
"Don't speak to me like that, Orihime. I won't be able to hold back."
She smirked slightly, pressing against him once more and whispered, flush against his lips. "What if I don't want you to?"
Grimmjaw muttered what appeared to be a string of curses, before letting his head drop. His lips grazed hers before he slammed his mouth against hers, taking and giving all, with her responding with the same urgency, the same wildness. When they pulled apart, it felt like there had been an electric current running through their bodies, and now there was tension, building up, sizzling in the air around them. Briefly, she wondered if she was doing the right thing, offering herself to him so freely when it was more then certain that she could easily become just another knot in his bedpost, and obliterate her chances of a good career. With him, she knew she could make it…
But she also knew that they couldn't carry it on like that. Grimmjaw also seemed to come to this conclusion, because he stopped dancing, laced his fingers with hers and tugged her close to his side. "You ok with this?"
"Are you?" she asked, before dragging him towards the exit. Outside, a snowstorm was raging, and for the first time since he'd come into Japan, Grimmjaw felt a need to actually use his jacket. Given, he half-covered Orihime with it as well, but for the first time he felt the cold. A part of him, the one that was so happy just seconds ago, the one that was triumphing when it felt her tiny form into his arms, suddenly shivered with fear that this moment, this perfect moment, would not last for too long.
I'll make it last, damn it! he told himself, grabbing her tightly through the waist. Orihime moved around and kissed him once more, causing him to stumble slightly and lean them both on a lamp post as their hands roamed freely and their breathes mingled, turning the air around them into a blurry haze. He pulled away, grasping her face into both his hands, looking for some sign of drunken stupor or hesitation, something that would make him sober up. But all he saw was her cheerful grin, and a 200% reassurance that she was, in fact, very much desiring this. Nothing broke the spell. Not then, and certainly not later, when they stumbled, somehow, into the apartment complex where she lived, when they got through the door, the high threshold and the shoji doors he'd never learned to open properly. It didn't wither even after they slowly, and without hesitation, undid, unzipped and undressed each other, or falter when they even more slowly and tenderly made love her bed, wrapped around in the scent of amber and their shared warmth.
And it stayed. It didn't change, not even once, not in the morning, or the day after, or the day after. It didn't falter when they groggily accepted that it was high time to report to school to get their end of term papers, or when they went to sign the documents that would free them for winter break from their job in the "Jazz club". It didn't disappear, even after he'd made love to her so many times she'd forgotten the count, or when he reluctantly agreed to come with her to visit her sister in Asakusa, although he'd given up on his travel to Spain because he loathed to leave her even just for a little.
The feeling was there weeks after, when they made their way to Barcelona for Easter, where, without knowing a word of Spanish, Orihime managed to capture the hearts of everyone he knew. It was there months later, when they successfully made it into chamber music and Grimmjaw extended his stay in Japan to an infinite amount of time. It was still as strong as before when, upon telling her this news, he dropped on one knee like one of those love-sick idiots on chick-flicks and asked her the question, and it only got stronger in the days, months and years after she said yes. It was there when the two of them dealt with her over-exuberant and hyperactive sister, who didn't settle down until she found herself a boyfriend and….but that's another story.
The truth is, it was there, and it stayed. As rare and hackneyed as it was, the love, the devotion and tenderness they felt for one another remained there, blossoming, blooming, untouched by autumn and it's deviousness, forever protected in the beauty of their spring.
A/N-Ok, sorry if it was a bit rushed, I never imagined Grimmjaw and Orihime might be such a pain in the ass to write. I love the couple, but I have to admit, I made Hime-chan a little OOC here, and Grimmjaw too...well, hope you enjoyed it anyway. Please review!
