...
…
He stood in front of the tombstone, hands tucked deep in pockets as the rain poured and poured onto his peculiar hair.
"Mother," he whispered.
No reply, no husky laughter, no long, flowing hair.
His eyes narrowed.
"Sorry,"
And he promised he would never give his heart to another.
…
…
She stood in his empty room, curled onto the bed, so tiny and fragile in the dull light. She cupped the shirt over her nose, inhaling deeply with her small nose as the tears thickened like the rain.
"Onii-chan," she whispered.
Her eyes filled once more.
"I'm so sorry…"
And she promised she would never replace him.
...
…
They had met through Tatsuki.
As Orihime sat in her home, knees pulled up to her chest, and Tatsuki sat next to her, both reaching for the popcorn as they watched the television.
"His name is Kurosaki Ichigo. He's pretty cool."
Orihime blinked as she raised the popcorn to her face.
Kurosaki Ichigo.
And she thought of a strawberry.
…
…
Ichigo and Tatsuki sat in the café. He swirled his coffee lazily, sighing softly as he listened to the gentle jazz music towards the back.
Tatsuki raised her green tea to her lips and smirked, "Her name's Inoue Orihime. She's been my friend for years."
He glanced up at her and then away, detached.
Inoue Orihime.
And he thought of a boring girl.
…
…
Ichigo stood near the lamp post, the sun shining high in the morning sky, one hand tucked in his pocket, the other holding the bag on his stiff shoulder. The clouds moved, huddled together, and watched over him.
He sighed heavily.
"Ichigo," he heard the familiar voice call behind him, Tatsuki.
Turning, his eyes met the ashen-hued gaze.
Ichigo stared.
Orihime stared.
And both thought,
You are not who I thought you were.
…
…
She is weird, he realized. Really fucking weird, with dreams of robots and aliens and a pretty voice in pink lips that wrapped around spoons filled with red bean paste.
But she was beautiful, oh so very beautiful. Bright hair that flowed down to her waist and was wavy, yet straight and begging to be touched, framing her face gently with thick bangs, and ivory skin, a hint of roses in her smooth cheeks and mouth, and large, larger hazel eyes that stared at someone, so bright and diamonds that shined on her face, thick and long lashes that swept against her cheekbones.
He started to think that – maybe, just maybe – she reminded him of his mother; so very gorgeous and bright and smiling all the time. His eyes tightened as he watched her grin at Tatsuki and Rukia, waving her hands in front of her as a blush ran across the silky cheeks. Slowly, she lifted her honeyed gaze and found Ichigo staring at her. Her blush deepened and he averted his gaze just as quick, something tugging inside of him.
No, he thought harshly, definitely not.
…
…
He is weird, she realized. Well, rather weird, with scowls that made her curious of what he was agitated with and firm lips that spat out curses with a cruel attitude, lips that also loved orange juice coming from a white straw.
But he was handsome, oh so very handsome. Bright hair – probably too bright for normal – fell over his forehead, over his intense, amber eyes that glared at you under heavy lashes, the straight nose, smooth bronze skin, and firm lips that scowled at any occasion.
She started to think – maybe, just maybe – he was someone she could think of, someone she could become close to, if even a bit, as she watched him snap at people who messed with his friends and fight when he stood up for himself – his hair. Slowly, she lifted her gaze, watching as his chocolate eyes swept across the roof, and then settle on her. Quickly, she glanced down and continued to eat hurriedly.
No, she thought sadly when she felt his gaze leave her, disinterested, definitely not.
…
…
They were alone today.
The two were rarely alone, and when they were, Ichigo would leave quickly. Rukia had left, shouting something about 'Chappy', dragging Renji along. Sado and Ishida had left soon after that, claiming studying couldn't wait, and Tatsuki had had practice, therefore leaving the two redhead teens alone.
She didn't speak with him, and she kept her eyes down, but he missed her fucking voice, and for some odd reason, he wished to hear her silly stories and watch her hair whip around her slender back.
Ichigo's hands clenched in his pockets, into tight fists. He grimaced when he heard her murmur something, counting off her fingers. Quickly, he placed his large hand on her small shoulder, yanking her to the side, just as she was about to walk right into a pole. She gasped sharply, and he released her.
Eyes locking, they both stared at each other, on the sidewalk, as if to say, you felt that too?
"A-Arigato," she murmured softly, licking her dry lips.
Ichigo followed the movement with a heated gaze before he looked back towards her eyes, "No problem. Don't get so distracted, Inoue."
"H-Hai, Kurosaki-kun!" She chirped nervously. With a grunt, he walked forward, posture slightly slouched and casual. Orihime followed behind him with a small smile, and together, they walked.
I like that, Orihime whispered internally as she stared at his serious face, together.
…
…
His anniversary was in a week.
Orihime stared down at the picture, and traced the handsome features.
Sora-nii…
She felt the tears, thick and crawling down her face softly, "…I-I'm…"
The hairpins attached to her shirt glowed against the dark.
…
…
"ICHIGOOO!"
The teenager glanced up from his plate.
"What the hell do you want, old man?"
"Onii-chan! Don't talk to Otou-san like that!"
"Just let them go at it, Yuzu. More for me."
"Karin-chan…"
"Don't forget. Tomorrow, after school, we're going to Masaki's grave. It's the anniversity."
"How would I fucking forget?"
"MASAKI~ OUR SON IS SO MEAN!"
"OLD GOAT, TAKE THAT POSTER DOWN!"
Ichigo sighed and glanced at the silly poster pasted against the wall.
Okaa-san…
He stood and walked to the stairs, all the noises stopped in the lively room.
"Onii-chan…" Yuzu trailed off softly.
"He's fine. Just becoming a man," Isshin put in with a surprisingly somber expression, "Let's eat."
…
…
The tears were thicker than yesterday. Orihime clutched tighter at her sides, digging her fingers in. Tatsuki-chan was busy today, Rukia-chan didn't know, she was alone, utterly alone in her dreary world.
The setting sun spread across the empty classroom and swept across her body. She felt tired, very tired, and it made her stomach clench.
This feeling…
…I am lonely.
The door slid open.
Orihime gasped sharply, her head shooting up, teary eyes meeting Ichigo's hard ones.
He paused and frowned heavily, eyeing her wet face.
"K-Kurosaki-kun…" She whispered, instantly wiping away her tears, "S-Sorry. What're you doing back here? Tatsuki-chan said you were very busy today."
Ichigo stared at her, one second, two, three…, "I was. It's over now. I came back for my books." As he walked forward, she waited for him to grab his things and leave. Slowly, she closed her eyes and listened to his footsteps.
Silence.
Her eyelashes fluttered open, and again, she gasped, jerking backward, "A-Ah!"
He stood over her now, one hand on her desk, the other tucked in his jean pocket. Orihime was wide-eyed, face wet and pink, long, thick hair framing her back and falling down her back. Ichigo remained where he was, dragging his deep, dark eyes across her skin.
"Ku…Kurosa—"
"Why are you crying?" He asked over her and their eyes locked - innocent, teary hazel meeting hard, burning brown.
Lowering her chin, she murmured, "It's none of your concern."
His eyes narrowed. "Really?"
"Y-Yes."
When he touched her, she jolted in shock, the familiar pressure of electricity pulsing through her at the contact. Their eyes stared into the others, her eyes growing on her pretty face, his dragging roughly across her heated skin. As he held her shoulder, her lips parted, the heated, overwhelming heat scalding through the suddenly stuffy classroom.
"Orihime," Her name sounded deliriously delicious on his tongue and she tried to repress a shiver, tried to stop her heart from pounding, tried to break the irresistible eye contact, but she could not, "Are you lonely?"
Her mouth nearly fell open, her walls completely crumbled as he read her like a book, words clear on her face. Her heart increased in its fast, faster beating. Her lips opened again, and she stammered out,
"Yes."
He flickered his eyes down to her delicate neck, staring at the hammering pulse point, and her lips trembled as the gaze went back to hers, burning, scorching, turning her inside out in her broken world.
"K-Kuro—"
To her surprise, to her complete shock, he cupped her cheek, so hot under his palm, and tangled his fingers in the thick, long red-orange mane. He whispered the words that she'd longed to hear, but never knew that she did.
"I am, too."
Slowly, as if not to frighten her, he leaned down at the waist and tightened his grip in her hair. She was beginning to feel the heat rising inside of her as he pushed closer, and kissed her on the lips. Instantly, a living thing thrived through her, heat, so full and delicious that she couldn't help but allow it to take over completely. She whimpered, leaned back, as though to escape his onslaught of emotions.
He tugged her forward, one hand in her hair, the other going down to clench her waist. "Stay still," he breathed hotly against her lips and then bent closer, taking and giving everything she wished and wanted. Thick cords of electricity and heat trailed down her jaw and ignited through her body, pulling something out, something that she wished to keep wherever it was.
He tilted her head back as she pushed weakly against his chest. When his tongue entered, it was over for her. Sparks erupted as their tongues met, danced, and caressed the others. Orihime's darted around carefully, but Ichigo followed close behind, almost desperate to kiss her with his fullest intent. She didn't miss the desperation in the kiss, the frenzy of his lips, the urgency as he held her closer, deepening the kiss until she was gasping and whimpering under his lips.
She'd never been kissed before, she'd never thought it would be like this, but it was, and her heart felt like it would explode, explode inside her chest and break her in two halves.
When he finally pulled away, continuing to keep a tight grip on her face and waist, she blinked, her long lashes fluttering. She wanted to ask, why, and she wanted to move away from the overwhelming heat he emitted, but she did not, afraid he would be gone and she would be alone the next second.
"We won't be lonely," he swallowed heavily, eyes locking with hers once again, "If we're together."
Slowly, she raised a hand and touched the palm on her face, so large compared to her tiny one.
"H-Hai…"
…
…
What am I doing?
"Kur—"
Don't speak.
He kissed her again, devouring her words and protests. It would be better if she was quiet, if no words were spoken, if she just allowed him to hold her, touch the satin skin that he suddenly longed for. When he released her lips, he stared down at her heavily-lidded, silver eyes, crimson cheeks, and swollen, rosy lips.
He liked this look.
It was undeniably sexy, and yet, she continued to hold the air of innocence, spread before him and his darkness.
He leaned down again, kissed her, tugged her bottom lip into his hot mouth, and she whimpered sharply, on the brink of pain as he released it. Sucking and biting until her lips were swollen and redder, her pink tongue playful and shy as it touched his. But she did not fight, and she lifted a small hand, and grasped his tangerine hair tightly.
Without warning, he broke the kiss and tried to stop the undeniable agony of being touched by this delicate, beautiful creature. He gripped her wrist and pushed it back down, above her head as they rocked in her blankets and bed.
"Don't," he grounded out.
He wanted to taint her, wanted to corrupt her, show her that the world wasn't all laughs and giggles and red bean paste. He wanted to see tears in her eyes and he wanted to see her on the brink of sanity. Maybe he was the corrupt one here, maybe he was the one who needed help. And maybe she could be the one that helps with this.
"Don't touch me," he hissed, "Stand still."
Orihime gasped for air frantically and wiggled in his grip, eyes stinging with tears, "K-Kuros…" He was hot and pulsing against her thigh, and in return, she opened her legs, inviting him in thoroughly.
She appeared sweet and vulnerable under his larger, stronger, longer body. He moved closer, and he could feel the heat, even through the condom, and her heart throbbed against his, her large breasts pressed into his chest.
He kissed her again, and sparks flew through his mouth as her tongue found his automatically. When he released her lips, and trailed open-mouthed kisses down her delicate throat, she twisted and turned, and whimpered, whining like a child under his ministrations.
"Dammit," he hissed harshly against her hair as pinned her hands over her head, refusing to allow her to touch him. He did not want that, for he will loose control, it'd be angry sex, he'd be furious, and his walls would crumble in front of this gorgeous, fragile woman. "I'll…" He swallowed thickly, "I'll be gentle."
Her hazel eyes, like sweet honey, shined deeply, and her lips trembled, "…Thank you," Slowly, she smiled, and it was soft and gentle and beautiful. He tightened his grip around her thin wrists.
What am I doing?
And in one thrust, he was inside of her. Her back arched like an elegant bow, and he groaned harshly, panting against her smooth, sweaty forehead. His body was in control, the blood pounding, his heart throbbing viciously. From tip to base, he was inside of her, inside of Inoue Orihime, the beautiful, innocent woman that turned peoples' heads and enough to make his mouth dry. Warmth erupted from her, and she clung to him, her mouth open in a silent scream, and he could not help but think that she was more beautiful than any other times.
"I'm starting," he growled, grabbing up her full bottom and slammed deeply inside of her. She screamed, and he groaned, leaning back to watch them. He was inside of her, deep, and she was sucking him in eagerly, the liquids staining her inner thighs and sliding down his stiff member. His body quivered as bolts of heat rolled down his body, the sweat sticking to every piece of flesh and muscle as he laid over her, watching the emotions spread across her gorgeous, red face.
Thick locks stuck to sweaty, flushed skin and tangled under her head. Her eyes were closed, and he was glad for this. He did not want to look into her deep eyes, get lost, and wish he'd never done this.
Intense pleasure held him as her body relaxed and then tensed, growing even tighter than before. Toes curling in pleasure, he tangled his hands in his hair, growling against her cheek, whispering things he did not mean, or he did not want to mean.
"Kurosaki…kun…" She whimpered.
He was also thankful for this.
Do not call me, Ichigo, because I'll…I'll…
He cannot think of Tatsuki, he cannot think of anyone, not his mother – who'd be disappointed in him – and the rest of his family, friends, just this girl, and spread out underneath him, and her lips parted, whimpering his surname, whimpering for him to stop and then continue, and he would not stop, he would not stop for the world.
"Fuck," he hissed, "Orihime,"
Her eyes opened slowly, and he saw the tears, deep in her eyes, through the pleasure and lust, he saw the pain and he saw the raw of the anguish. She lied there, and she allowed him to take everything he wanted. He wished to ask, why, but then, she thrust her hips upwards and he slipped even deeper than before.
Neck muscles clenched and he pulled her hair, attacking her lips viciously.
She tried to pry her hands free, but could not.
"L-Let me…"
"No," He snarled, "No. Stay there. Just…Let me…" He panted against her lips.
Somehow, he knew she understood.
And that night, he began to learn every curve and every line of Inoue Orihime.
…
…
"Orihime?" Tatsuki glanced up when she saw the wave of amber locks. Slowly, the hazel eyes looked up curiously, wide eyes flickering. "Are you alright?"
Slowly, the redhead smiled, "Of course, Tatsuki-chan."
Tatsuki's eyes narrowed, but she watched as her friend walk past her.
What the…?
…
…
The class door slid open, Ishida said hello, Sado gave a thumbs-up, and Rukia grinned, waving next to Renji.
Ichigo slowly looked up.
There she was.
Orihime swallowed as she entered the classroom, but did not glance in his direction.
"Oi, Inoue,"
Instantly, her eyes flickered to him. Something passed, one heartbeat, two, three…, "Yes?"
"Good morning."
Ishida quirked a brow at the strange behavior between the two.
"…"
"…"
And then she beamed brightly, "Ohayo, Kurosaki-kun~!"
…
…
It was not perfect, he realized, but it's better than being alone.
…
…
I hoped you like it. In the near future – hopefully – there is going to be one more chapter of this, probably two to wrap it up. My first short story, yay! This story is mostly of being together, but unable to love. I remember my sister had that problem, thankfully I have never gone through it. Hope I never will…
Review for me, please. Love your support.
-Star