~Don't look at me~
She blushed, aware every moment of the dark-haired man's stare from across the table. "Do you have something to add, Kuchiki?" his tone was bored as his expression was. Plainly she read it as: don't-defer-me-any-more-from-getting-back-to-my-office-where-I-have-a-date-with-my snooze-chair.
"N-no, Stark sir."
"Good," he observed her for a while longer, suspicious of the peculiar pink tingeing porcelain cheeks. The other members of the board shifted and one Shunsui Kyoraku, coughed politely into his tea. They were all ready to resume whatever activities rich men such as themselves had been forced to put aside in deference to their summons for the meeting.
He did not care to know what was passing through the mind of Aizen's assistant Jiruga; the gangly man had been almost salivating through the two hours as his uncomfortable victim, Stark's helper, Rukia, squirmed. He wondered briefly if she resented the domineering world of the professional male businessman and simply being a flunky on the lowest of the pole could not be more humiliating.
Pity she's so short. He thought glancing her way again and catching her eye, with those looks she could have been a model. Stark smiled a little and again an embarrassed blush followed.
"Well, gentlemen, that concludes it. You're all free to go."
The sound of chairs scraping back and relieved sighs left the mouths of the men. He left last, leaving his helper to gather up the signed documents and later to file them. At the doorway, he looked back, seeing her petite form bending over to pick up a few scattered papers.
Their eyes met.
You're much too young for me; kid. He seemed to say.
Please don't look at me… she seemed to beg, for I don't deserve someone like you.
~Finis~
A/N: don't own Bleach. Just a little ficlet, hope you enjoyed it! Reviews are appreciated!
