lol feelings.
Bleach owned by Tite Kubo.

Above me a veil of blue waves cascaded, the hues taking shape into a sky that melted into clouds and gently back into cerulean abyss. I sighed, my gaze slowly lowering at the exhale.

All was quiet. No wind stirred, no birds sang, no warmth flooded chilled skin. Everything was artificial, stale, and tragically beautiful.

I stood in one of the many halls of Las Noches, the one with a canopy of breathtaking infinity thrown above to taunt and mock all who reside here. My chest felt heavy and I clutched it as longing stirred, weighing me down. I could barely feel as my knees met marbled flooring, the shudder of impact resounding within yet I refused to acknowledge, my nails scratching against the tile out of desperation.

Why? Why? Why?

Such utter torment to be here below oceanic paint dabbed to represent desire, the empyrean ceiling engulfing and suffocating. Everything was blurred into a mass of blue and I struggled for air, the ground shaking beneath my clenched fists. I could feel as the corridor spun around, toying with me.

I screamed.

Not once have I cried, raised my voice, or objected since my abduction but somehow now, under this imitation of a sky, I broke down. Sharp pangs seized my heart, excruciating.

"I want out!" I cried, the hollow echo of my shriek meeting my ears with a stab. "Let me out!" I violently shook my head as if I could flick off shackles that bound me. "Help me! Let me out! I can't breathe! Please!"

A hand rested atop my head, a frigid touch that instantly quelled a ripping rage. I gasped for air, my throat raw from anguish and my eyes stinging from incessant tears. The hand slid down to my shoulder, firmly grasped, and lifted me up to hold me steady, my knees shaking.

I was turned around lucidly and swiftly kissed by obsidian lips that slowly healed, gently soothed, and relieved generous amounts of despair. My eyes closed at the union; this was no artificial warmth I felt budding inside.

Sincere. Real.

The hush of the scarred air rained down on us and it was a symphony, soft to the ears of the wounded. Days passed, or so it felt, and the weeks blurred into months of relief at his frozen lips now thawed.

And we parted.

I met his hardened emerald eyes tinted with sympathy, and he whispered an apology.

I forgave.

The sky descended, crumbling around us.