~Bottom of the bottle~
She looked like shit.
Smudged kohl eyeliner enlarging bloodshot violet orbs. Pouty mouth reddened, lips bleeding from constant nervous biting. "One more," she called across the wide worn counter. The dimmed lighting did nothing to soften the seedy interior of the back corner bar nor the shabby half apron he wore. The rag wiping the glass paused indecisively in two fine pale hands. It was his employment to sell drinks to people like her, regulars who could down six shots in an hour. He knew it yet still went ahead in attempting dissuasion. "You've had enough already," the bartender said, lying aside the still-grimy glass.
But every time...her response would always be.
"Cut the AA crap and serve me already!"
He was used to her familiar snap but could not withhold the slight disappointment in hoping that for once she might heed his words.
A regular Kuchiki Rukia was. One she'd always been ever since two years before when a former boyfriend brought her to the place. He and Ulquiorra had been friends and as such she had made an impression, one that even as rundown as she was from those days still held sway over his gaze.
She would've been beautiful had she lessened the heavy makeup and exchanged the spaghetti strap dress and cheap fur lined coat for something less revealing, he thought, carefully tilting the amber bottle over the rim of the clear glass. The other patrons could complain of greasy glasses all they wanted, but he always made sure hers was spotless.
She never noticed.
The liquid was downed in one fiery gulp. She slouched forward on the saddle stool, her unfocused gaze resting on his face for a moment, no look of recognition present.
"Schiffer?" she questioned.
He nodded.
She nodded as well, "eh, thought it was you." her smile was watery though it still made his heart race. "Only you would criticize a girl's much-needed libation."
He winced, but ignored the not-so subtle jibe.
"I guess I should appreciate it," she went on, never noticing his discomfort growing. "No one else cares like you...no one." Her voice ended on a sharp high note on the edge of a sob. Ulquiorra knew he would regret it, yet still forced himself to offer comfort.
"Tell me."
~*~
Deep down he always wondered why it couldn't be him.
"He left me."
I would never leave you.
"He said it was just a fling and for me to get on with my life! How can I when he was my life?!" broken now, she was leaning onto his shoulder for support. The bar was closing and the waiters were piling up the chairs. Ulquiorra paid her tab and walked her to the back entrance, avoiding the looks of pity bestowed upon him. They all knew how he felt and were sorry.
But he didn't want their sympathy.
Out in the cool, damp winter air, Rukia seemed to revive a little. He noticed and steadied her on her feet. "Do you want me to see you home?"
She was quiet, staring ahead to the brick wall and her own white breaths escaping into the night. "Schiffer...do you like me?" she asked finally, sounding sober. Ulquiorra couldn't answer, only bent slightly and brushed her unyielding lips with his own.
Being so close he could scent the alcohol in her throat, in her breath and another sharper metallic taste that he couldn't quite identify. After a moment he released her and stepped back, "forgive me. I never should have done that."
He expected anger.
Surprise.
Anything but what he received.
She laughed. Long and hard. Her shoulders even shook, "that's funny! I almost believed you..."
He didn't hear the rest. Only felt sick with himself. "What," he carefully controlled his emotions, "made you think anything existed between us?"
Let her think it was a joke.
Please.
"I guess it's because every time I see you I always think this was how Grimmjow should act."
She was smiling.
He nodded slightly, agreeing with her but she had already turned around.
Walking away.
He stared after her. Knowing he should stop her.
He couldn't move.
She stopped, calling over her shoulder, "thanks, Ulquiorra."
For what? She had never called him by name before.
He couldn't call her back.
She kept on moving.
Disappearing from sight.
He stared futilely where she had once been, his hands clenched at his sides.
He knew now what she had taken.
Life like the bottle she had drunk, had been drained to the last.
Only the wind taunted the last words she ever spoke on earth.
Thanks for being my friend...
~Fin~
Disclaimer: don't own Bleach.
AN: depressing. Don't blame me. I'd had the idea for a while and finally came up with an appropriate title. Ps. the metallic taste was painkillers. So yeah, she died...poor Ulqui never requiting his love. ;.;
Thanks for reading.
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