When she cannot sleep
Rangiku was at the piano. Her fingers moved nimbly over the piano keys. Johann Pachelbel's Canon in D major. A concerto of soft sad piano tones and raindrops filled the air. Oddly loud, as if drumming on her heartstrings. An orchestra of emotions was bubbling in her.
In an empty house that cannot be called home, she has never felt so vulnerable before.
It was three in the morning. She couldn't sleep.
The pelting of raindrops against her window had woken her up. It was too loud. Or perhaps it was just the ringing in her head. Or perhaps it was the sun-kissed image of Gin beaming down at her, so long ago, that presented itself to her mind. Like a gilded moment in time, she reminisces.
She kept tossing and turning under her sheets, then gave up and opened her eyes. Everything that greeted her pale blue eyes was dark, drab, grey. And a moist sort of cold clung to her despite her thick blankets. She shuddered involuntarily and put her arms around herself for some comfort.
Usually she likes rain. Though unpredictable and short, Rangiku finds that there is reliability amidst its inconsistency. The falling of rain formed a protective sort of cover around her, and then she would curl up in her big, warm bed with a good book. It always makes her feel safe and happy.
Constant inconsistency, she thought. Not today though. The oxymoron made her frowned into a dim emptiness.
After he took leave of her in such a waltz, Rangiku has hated rain.
Rain reminds her of him. Ichimaru Gin. She never knew when it was coming and when it did came, didn't know how long it would last.
Just like the times Gin had came to her in the past. His visits always took her by surprise. Wordlessly, he would slip smoothly in her king-sized bed, as if he belonged there, and she would welcome him. The familiar warmth and feel of his solid body against hers made her feel safe. It was the closest thing she knew to bliss.
Someone had once asked her what her favorite color was. Her reply was red. She loved the piercing, intense crimson of Gin's eyes. They spoke multitudes to her as he made passionate love to her. One of them was a confession of love.
She had come to believe in Gin's love. Erratic and secret though it was, she knew she could always rely on him. While they seldom acknowledged each other in public, Gin always did what he could to protect her. She believed that he loved her. She believed in him.
But he had to leave just like that.
Perhaps he did love her, but his love was not enough to keep him around.
His betrayal nearly killed her, because Rangiku is just like her shikai. Ash cat. Proud, independent and strong on the outside, but ultimately just ash. Vulnerable.
I'll move on. I'm not a fool. I won't hold onto what I cannot have, and I cannot forgive you for what you've done. I'll forget you, Gin, I'll. I loved you, Gin. I do.
She wouldn't acknowledge it, or maybe it was because she hadn't noticed, when she finally got up to light the lamp beside her too-large bed, her whole pillow was wet.
The end (in more ways than one, perhaps shrugs)
A/N: gin/rang! 3 note the (deliberately) present tense in the second last sentence. Yay!! GinXRang!!! 3 3 3 Thanks so much for reading! hugs my reader gratefully I hope I haven't annoyed you with my all the alliteration and soppiness hehheh. Reviews will be greatly appreciated! (constructive criticism too)