An intoxicating scent – that's the word that I can use to describe it, I suppose. It's the air around him – drifting and calming. I can't seem to understand or even grasp the basic essence of it. It's sweet and fresh like the smell of laundry or the wafting aroma about clean water or the lingering breeze of that was the wind's own. It is indescribable and alluring. All the while, it is repelling and stifling and, among other things, suffocating. I couldn't breathe when I was around him – breathless.

And, right now, I was in a moment like that – like I was around him – because I was around him. I was drowning in his presence. I shouldn't have been, though. He was ranked below me – two ranks below me, even. Why did he render my guards and protections useless?

I was bared before him.

A cold shiver ran down my spine – around him, there was no other shiver but a cold one. The very nature of his being was what stilled my breathing and brought my footsteps to a dead halt before him – behind him. He didn't look at me, though. He didn't need to in order to do all of that. It was just being around him that did this – all of this.

Then, he turned around to look at me. His blue eyes – bluer than sapphires and bluer than that sky – pierced into my very soul, boring holes into all the dark parts of my heart. It was as if he could see each and every part of me – each and every one of my flaws. And, it burned – burned like a true, blue flame in the midst of a smoky night when cloud cover overtook even the tiniest stars and there was no light.

I frowned instinctually as I always did around him. The weight of his essence weighed down on me – I couldn't even lift my muscles into a calm, serene expression and definitely not a smile. I never smiled.

He showed signs of anger but only in his eyes. I watched as the rage flickered across the reflective pools that were his eyes, shimmering like a crimson light before darting away. His eyes only seemed more enraged when they were accented by the blue – like clear water – spikes that were drawn away from the corners of his eyes. I ignored this, for once. He didn't speak, for once. This day – this time – was filled with anomalies, it seemed.

His voice slipped past his mouth and past the guards of my ears. "What are you doing, Ulquiorra?" he asked. Another anomaly – he never used my name. I didn't reply – I would never dignify his useless inquisitions with a reply from me, someone two ranks higher. That was what I would like to fool myself into believing. Of course, I doubt that – it was only because I couldn't reply. I am always speechless around him – in awe.

"Why don't you ever answer me?" he asks another question. I know that it isn't as if I never answer him. I just never speak to him...in a conversation, that is. This was where he sighed, shaking his head in defeat. That was unlike him but, for now, I would leave it be. He wasn't one to give up but, yet, here he was giving up.

Of course, it was a day of anomalies.

And, to break this chain of anomalies, I walked away. I never walked away. But, today, I did.

How strange...to find peace in this false sanctuary of Las Noches with a false son and a false god. This was the only way to break the monotony – to break the melancholy.

Author's Note: Yes...I do always write short drabbles like this. The only concern is whether I save/post/keep them... On a completely different note, this was not based on the song "Anna Molly" by Incubus (though, I adore that song...). No, it was based on the mellow (is that the right word?) tune of "Running Up That Hill" by Placebo... It has absolutely nothing to do with the lyrics, though. Um...yes, that should be it. Oh, about "Mon Espoir"...I was gone for a week so...the next chapter should be posted sometime this week, promise! It's almost done, anyway. Until then. Ciao.