Note- Just a quick drabble written a little earlier; please enjoy this teeny-ass thing.
Dedication- I'd actually like to dedicate this to Snowleaf, since reading her stories recently inspired me to get back into writing. (Shrugs) Please enjoy.
Angel and Demon
"El día en que yo le engaña a Señor Aizen es el día en que yo corto mi garganta."
"The day I betray Aizen-sama is the day I slice my own throat." Repulsing. Yet the vow cannot be undone, the oath cannot be negated -- and so I sit; watch with closed eyes, tearing past the darkness. The inferiors, I sense, quirk their eyebrows, exchanging looks of bewilderment, of stupidity; blind though they are, they at least are saved from the pain of choosing between maestro y amante.
And I see her again, from the innards of my own desolate mind: the clouds part and a heavenly radiance beams down between them, illuminating the delicate silhouette of a figure more exquisite than the goddess Aphrodite herself. Those angelic, gleaming, silvery wings extend, spanning the entire sky, protruding beyond the woman's obviously uncovered flesh in her glorious descent from the heavens, and I can only watch with a mixture of admiration and horror -- for it is I, la Espada Cuarta, who will inevitably taint that purity with blackness. The delicacy Inoue embodies, the purity she represents…can not hold when in contact with a demon -- yet at the same time, the immorality of a demon can not hold when in contact with a goddess. As this realization comes, slowly, carefully, the vision darkens until all I see again is the inside of my eyelids.
It had only been a dream, but to him it wouldn't matter; the betrayal of Aizen-sama is already complete, and blood oaths cannot be nullified. Not for the first time since I met that woman, I feel a definite sting of regret in the back of my mind: that single drop of crimson, glistening warningly as it fell through the air, had sealed this fate long ago.
I grip my zanpakutou tightly and lift it to my neck; I will meet Aizen-sama in hell.
So may you all.