You know who owns Bleach, and I'm Kubo writing about Shiyori in my free time.
"Is this about what I said before?" the light-blonde girl asked, the vein on her forehead disappearing slowly.
Shinji, who was hopelessly trying to escape her death-grip on his hair, stopped struggling, his animatedly annoyed expression suddenly turned vivid.
Hiyori mistook his silence as an assurance of her suggestion, and her grip faltered to her side.
For a brief moment, the odd hurt glint in her eyes kept Shinji paralyzed at what she had just asked, but when her usual fanged scowl returned while she turned to leave; his senses ticked back, and he hurriedly grasped her hand before she went any further.
"Baka! I'm always gonna have first loves; doesn't mean I need a declaration of your undying hate towards me to stop it…" he said, not sounding so amused.
Hiyori tried pulling her hand back, only to have him tighten his grip around her wrist. Not liking his superiority; she moved her leg to kick him in the ribs, but he blocked her attack; one of the few times he ever stopped her abuse, which meant he was being serious.
"Fuckin' baldy, what the hell do you think you're doin'? Lemme go; I'm not gonna hear yer shit anymore. And if it didn't mean anything to ya then good fer ya! Cause I wasn't gonna take back my word" she yelled.
Shinji's eyes softened at her partial-slip, but his hold didn't falter nonetheless. He even brought her closer, his arms hesitantly wrapping around her shoulders; sandwiching her awkwardly with a stupid WTF look and a slipper steady in hand,
"That's not what I meant, midget, ya never know what it's really about…" he whispered in her ear, '..You're far from the truth, my scary lifetime-old monkey, it's almost the complete opposite ' he completed in his mind.
Soothed by his warm breath on the tender skin of her ear, Hiyori relaxed in his embrace, disobeying her better judgment and fluttering her eyes closed, slipper escaping to the floor when her hands decided to move on their own, sliding up his chest to rest on his shoulders.
Maybe, just maybe -with a small letter M- she could allow herself to feel that way about him.
A/N: Reviews are sex. Falmes are not. Hope you like C: