Hard Candy

Nnoitra spat into the sand, spittle and blood speckling the ground with crimson moisture, thin lips curled into a frustrated sneer. He was crouched low like a feral predator, a stance that would have been menacing if not for the many gashes and bruises maiming his skin.

At a distance stood the Tercera Espada, as tall and lean as Atalanta, figure illuminated by the artificial sun. Her mint-green hair billowed and curled in the tidal desert wind.

"Are you satisfied yet?" Neliel asked, voice soft and steady as her face.

Her power was like a jawbreaker, hugely intimidating and all too capable of shattering bone.

"Fuck do you think?" the Octava snarled back. He sprang forward from his stooped position, brandishing his sickle-bladed zanpakutou as he pounced.

Neliel leapt gracefully to the side and out of reach, long legs lithe and strong as a gazelle's. She whirled in the air and brought her own elegant blade down on his, twisting his own heavy weapon in his hands.

Her movement was like a lollipop, twisting and turning and dancing in polished spirals.

"I think you're a fool," she said simply, answering a question that he had never really asked. Her blow culminated in an arching swing, the balance of Nnoitra's crescent weapon thrown even more askew, the invisible reiatsu of two battling arrancar sparking as they met. "Fools never learn."

"Fucking bitch!" he bellowed, stumbling for the umpteenth time. He caught himself and turned to glower menacingly at his opponent, his normally cool and pallid face now burning with rage.

Neliel remained as calm and composed as she always did, standing upright and silent, her gaze stern and unmoving, waiting for what would inevitably be his next futile attempt.

She was like hard candy, pretty and sweet but tough as diamonds.

And like all candy, she was overwhelmingly tempting, and it was all he could endure to keep himself from devouring her in every sense of the word.

That was why he longed to break her.