Spelling and grammar aint ma thang . . . just warning you :3

Grimm and Ichigo are now bound for life. What happens when Grimmjow isn't all he says he is, can a vampire Ichi keep them together or will Aizen break them up?

Grimmjow's Point of ViewxX

I shot up in bed, teal eyes scanning the room. Completely unaware of my new surroundings and as soon as I did I cursed myself for doing it. My head spun like a top and my whole body ached. Grabbing at the air, I try to find the side of the mattress to grab a hold of - to keep the room from moving. (I felt worse then i did afterwaking up from any one of Noritora's "little" parties, and i always left completely smashed - thats saying something.) But I missed what ever it was i was talking about and fell face first to the floor. And to my luck, my legs got caught up in the bedding. So with one arm balancing my torso half-hazardly in the air I wrangled with the sheets for some kind of freedom. . . This was clearly not. my. day.

"You shouldn't push yourself like that", the whisper slide across my back. My hand froze, the sweat on the back of my neck froze. I mean i was a fricking popsicle. The voice took a step forward from the shadows of the dim room to revile a young man dress cladly in jeans and a lose fitting t-shirt. Orange hair silohuetting brown eyes. Maybe he seemed tall for his age but he was still just a teenager at best. Just a baby.

"Kuroaski, Ichigo." he mumbled awkwardly but nothing that seemed out of the ordinary.

"Grimmjow." I threw it out like it was nothing but as soon as the the words passed through my lips a strange, calm sensation flooded my body,... and all i could think was - calm!? He could be a murderer for all I know! And all I can think of is being calm? Why the f- am I so calm?

The kid walks over, lays a soft hand on my arm and pulls me back onto the bed - like no big deal. And if he was going to kill me, I guess he would have done it then an there. Not to mention i dont see a weapon. But more importantly - no man alive can take me, which leaves one other option, rape. I pulled back quickly so as to create some space between us, tucking my legs underneath my body to prevent any more "accidents" with the sheets. I was prepared - prepared of course, to punch him in the face and get the F*** out of there! But he took a seat next to me like mama Gin; just wait till he's in arms reach and BAM, right in his kisser!

"I'm a vampire", ...it took me a minute to register that . . . ok new options, he could be a mental case - that's also an option.

"And here I was afraid you were going to molest me or something! Well if that's it, do you have a mermaid sister that's single?" my voice dripping with sarcasm, which was my normal tone. But seriously, if he's a vampire I'm a f***ing unicorn. He turns to look at me earnestly, his eyes all. And now I'm thinkin' maybe this chump is serious?

He can't be i mean its not halloween . . . No one in their right mind thinks their a vampier. Ok . . so he could . . .not. be. in. his. right. state of mind. Whatever that means . . . f*ck. With those new twink Vampier movies out the creepy Vampier cult has totally gone socially expectable!

he chuckled with this glint in his eye, "Then you're a unicorn.", the h***?!

"It's the bond a vampire has with the person they bite." he continues, oh joy. "A kind of sacred bond that, from what I know, its like telepathy. It's hard to explain but I don't know how long it will last something changing. It's complicated."

Clearly he's not a well researched vampire but still it doesn't make since to me, "You wanna tell me why I'm so special? I mean, I've got a pretty good idea of what's going on. You're going to stalk me for blood right, or something weird like that? My ora?", He looks away and - bingo - That little blood sucker. He clears his throat, and began to stammer and mumble about this or that... i wasn't paying attention.

"I didn't mean to, it's just that . . . I'm kind of new - I mean at this. I was told, well my teacher told me to find someone, you know, who I could trust, that wouldn't care if I . . .well it's, you know -. (wut, sucked them dry!?) But I, I'm sorry, I ran out of time. I couldn't control myself. The next thing I knew-"

He never let his eyes fall from the sad little wall in front of him, and the tension was starting to build up, starting to get to me you know? - real bad. What was there left to say, well now that it's happened let's make the best of it? or, no I totally understand, same thing happened to my Aunt? I did the only logical thing that came to mind, I threw open the window,

"Same time next week?" jumped two stories to a the lawn below, and ran.

He won't be here; it was just last night so he'd be full right? So there's no reason for him to come. Unless it's not about being full and hungry and more like recharging. I guess... like a phone, you gotta do that sh*t every night. Gah- What am I even talking about? You don't plug vampiers into you friggin' wall like the new iPhone. It was probably just a weird dream. Yeah, a weird dream or maybe I got a hold of some thing.. like crack, yeah that sounds good. LSD, I'm hallucinating. I should just forget. Forget... gonna forget.

Two days but I guess that doesn't say a lot. You know what? I can't keep f***ing living like this; constantly thinking about it, over and over in my head. I'll just go to work and forget it all happened. That's all I need to do. I just gotta keep tellin' myself it's just a figment of my imagination/hallucination. But . . . will we have to keep this up for the rest of my life? He'll out live me by who knows how long and we already sort of covered that he won't be biting any old f***wad anymore so . . what, will he turn to ache in the sun - i'll take him outside. Maybe he just glitter like in those sh*ty movies? And how often does he have to drink blood exactly? Are we talking once a week, once a month, once a lifetime? If i'm going to put this down on my calendar i'm gonna need to know. Does he have a clutch? Because that could be a problem. Sense that's what Google is now telling me, has become the new fancy word for a group of vampires, a clutch. A hodgepodge, a gaggle -Wait, when did I search Google for this crap? Oh, ok . . maybe he has porphyria. . ahh EW! ew, why Google!? Why must you be so descriptive? MY EYES CAN NOT UNREAD THIS SH*T! D*mn, Screw this, I haven't written a single sentence, man, I haven't even logged into the computer. I'm getting nowhere. I pushed away from the desk in a huff, grabbed my jacket which was slung across the back of my office chair and left. I'd rather just stew at home anyways.

It's been three days, three f-ing days and counting. Counting! I ran my fingers threw my hair; looking at myself in the mirror with dissatisfaction. Dark circles are starting to appear under my eyes and now I'm beyond sluggish. I've pulled all nighters before but they were with hot chicks, I wasn't alone. This is now haunting me in my dreams. Every where i look. I'm becoming a flippin' paranoid f*ck! Sleeps just too hard to come by - sleep, what is sleep? I'm too tired to even cuss out my own misfortune, sh*t. That night when I'd gotten back there was no mark, no proof that I was bitten but why am I still so fidgety? Like he's going to be around every corner, every turn, waiting for me. But i can't stop. It's really starting to freak me, and I don't know why.

4 Days - is that considered a week? It's like a short week if you don't have to go in on Fridays. Seriously, this feeling it's starting to suffocate me. All i want is to walk outside and get some fresh air, instead of recycling what's been sealed in here with me. But its already night. The sun went down an hour ago, and I'm not taking chances like that. Not today.

Day 5: I can feel it, he's coming. I can feel it inside me, this calling. There's no use, if he wants inside, he'll F***ing get inside. I know what I'm dealing with, i've excepted this intertwining fate. So here I am, standing on my back patio like a living breathing offering. The door open, letting the curtains flow out the large oak frame; making the shadows dance in the glow of my kitchen like spirits in the night. Then it hits me, this thick pressure that boars down on me. Sinks threw my skin and wraps around my very core. These thoughts aren't mine. These feelings - they're not mine. I'm reatching out trying to grab a hold of myself but I can't. It's as if I'm just an empty vassal for someone else's soul, and I hate it. It makes me skin crawl.

And then it all goes black.