DISCLAIMER: I don't own bleach or naruto!
He had no idea what about her made her so irresistible. It could of course be the less innocent parts of her appearance. Her perfectly proportioned hips, wide enough to give her figure a decided "Oomph" factor as Naruto would put it, but not so wide that they made her stocky, her chest was sizeable, and her legs firm and shaped as most girls could only dream. Hinata wasn't some skinny anorexic stick either. She had a healthy bit of meat on her, and Toushiro didn't know of anyone else who could put away as much ramen in one sitting or cook as well as she could. It could have also been her innocence. It could have been those wide blank eyes, and it could have been her long blackish blue hair, and it could have been her pale as snow skin.
She looked like one of those princesses from a fairy tale, especially when she wore a dress. Which, granted wasn't really all that often, but when she did... Oh kami was she beautiful. It of course helped that generally it was Matsumoto was the one choosing out the dress, which meant that it showcased Hinata's curves more then Hinata would allow if she were picking out something herself. Hinata herself never thought of herself as a princess though. She hated it when Toushiro thought of her as such in fact, Hinata was exceedingly humble, and the word princess simply didn't sit well with her.
.
It could have been everything about her that was irresistible for all Toushiro cared. All he cared was that she was his to love. Of course, this was exactly the type of possessive, stereotypical love struck statement that Toushiro tended to avoid like the plague, but gods be damned it was true! He'd never thought anyone was perfect, but Hinata came pretty close. Or as close as he'd like to imagine anyways.
Perfection didn't exist, and therefore Toushiro didn't really want to spend too much time thinking about it. It was useless to think and wish for things that could never be. It caused unnecessary angst, another thing that Toushiro did his best to avoid. It was kind of funny how people thought he was a perfectionist, when in fact he rather scorned the idea of perfection in the first place.
He did love her though. He was sure of that. He loved her quiet nature, and he loved her warm eyes and the band that she wore around her neck. He liked the way that she pushed forward even when she was tired and beat down. She was useful, and a strong addition to his team, no matter how much she herself denied it. Sometimes she'd come to his room, late at night after she was done training and fall asleep beside him.
He'd suffered quite a shock the first time it happened, and very nearly screamed like a little girl when he'd woken up to her crumpled on the floor like that. But as soon as he realized exactly who was curled up on his floor he only put her on his futon and slept on a spare blanket himself. She was welcome in his quarters. Though it would be nice if she could warn him. But like most elements in his life, she never felt the need to warn him, and never ever apologized for entering the young taicho's home as she pleased.
Honestly, Toushiro wasn't sure he cared.
This was a request fo r Sousei-Seki on deviantart! I'm so sorry that such a short little schmuck of a drabble took me so long to do darling!
I hope you enjoyed!