Lana Del Rey: Chelsea Hotel No. 2
To say that she doesn't think of him all that often would be a full on, bold faced lie.
They met for a single night.
(…)
"Where ya goin', darlin'?"
She shrugged, her eyes distant on the skyline. "Wherever the wind takes me," she said.
"And where has the wind taken ya this time?"
She turned around to face the man asking the questions. Silver hair and slanted eyes, he was tall, as well as thin, but not skinny. He was dressed in a fine black suit, trimmed and threaded with a sparkly silver thread. Something about him said danger, but it was this unknown quality that drew her to him. She considered him and his question for another moment, and then she turned back around and gestured to the large oceanic expanse before them. "Right here," she replied, already losing herself once again.
As if on cue, a breeze picked up, and the man behind her laughed. "Looks like the wind's changin' its mind on ya, darlin'!" he laughed, grabbing her hand and spinning her around. She yelped in surprise, falling into him, her dress tangling with the wind and her movements. His arms came around her, and she looked up to meet his now open bright blue eyes. "I want to show ya somethin'," he said quietly.
She took a deep breath. "I- okay," she agreed, and watched, delighted, as the smile on his face grew winder and more genuine.
He let her go, and then held his hand out. "The name's Ichimaru," he said, and she slipped her smaller fingers between his. "Ichimaru Gin."
"Matsumoto Rangiku," she introduced.
He nodded. "Excellent," he said, and looked around the dock. "Ran-chan- can I call ya that? –I'm going to ask ya ta trust me," he requested, eyes focusing back in on her.
Rangiku licked her lips, starting to feel the tendrils of apprehension curling around her spinal cord. She didn't know this man. But then she looked into his eyes again, and some part of her, she realized, already knew him, already trusted him with everything she was. She nodded her agreement, and he took off running.
It startled a cry out of her, but she laughed as the wind picked up, taking delight from the way they were running across an empty dock without even knowing one another. It was a strange form of delight, new and forbidden. When was the last time she had taken a risk like this one?
He led her into the city, taking back alleyways and shortcuts to avoid the people. All the while, she held on tight to his hand, her eyes following him as they observed the area around her- the same forbidden territory into which she had never ventured before. Though she had lived here all her life- a full twenty-five years- she had never seen the back streets and the different things to be explored there.
He let go of her hand and she focused her gaze onto him fully, the door on the right leaving her mind in the absence of the comforting heat of Gin's hand. "Gin?" she questioned, eyeing him warily. She had no idea where she was. He pointed up, and she followed the line his arm made to a ladder hidden on the side of the bricked building.
"Up ya go," he said, his voice endearingly uncertain, as if he knew that she had been second-guessing her decision to trust him this entire time.
The thought was unbearable, somehow. That he would be uncertain over her, of all people. Some part of her wanted nothing more than to cradle him close and make all of his uncertainty disappear, to restore his carefree confidence to him. But all she could do was climb the ladder. So climb she did.
The ladder was old and rusty, but Gin was right behind her. He placed his hands and feet on the bars with confidence, as if he had done this a thousand times. Thinking about it, Rangiku realized that he probably had, what with the way he had led her through the twisting roads of the under city. It was a long ladder, too, she noticed, seemingly endless.
It ended some time later, and she climbed up onto the roof where he had led her. It was very high up, and her stomach threatened to revolt at the sight of the road below them. Gin came up behind her and rested his hands on her waist. "Look up," he whispered in her ear. She followed his instruction automatically, and saw with a jolt a sight she had never seen before. "Beautiful, ain't it?" he asked.
"Oh, yes," she agreed. Stars were a rare sight in the city, after all. She had seen them only a few times before, when she used to visit her grandmother in the country, many years ago. They had been brighter, stronger, less hard to see, but she knew the sparkling constellations above her were the real deal. "How did you find this?" she asked.
His hands looped around in front of her as he pressed closer, resting the side of his face on her head. "An old acquaintance o' mine," he told her, his voice unreadable. She wanted to know more, but didn't press.
They stood in silence for many long moments. She didn't take her eyes off of the sky above her, but leaned back into his embrace, all threads of uncertainty within herself evaporating into the air. Then she asked, "Why show this to me?"
He didn't answer for a while. Then, "It's like your eyes," he whispered.
She turned her head to look at him and he stared back, unreadable. She leaned forward a bit and their lips met slowly, but it wasn't too long before his hand was fisted in her strawberry blonde locks, and her arms were gripping his free one tightly where it was firm against her abdomen. He was a good kisser, she decided, and her light eyes slipped closed as the kiss intensified.
She wasn't immediately aware when she was on her back, but she knew when the icy cold rooftop met her bare shoulders, and she gasped into his mouth. He made to pull back, but she followed him blindly, and so they moved forward.
(…)
Rangiku woke the next morning alone on the rooftop, the sun breaking over the horizon with weakened morning rays. She looked around, but there was no sign of Gin anywhere. He had dressed her, however, and found a blanket somewhere. She wrapped it around her shoulders and noted with surprise that the space next to her was still warm, where he had lain for the night. She sighed.
She made it from the rooftop and figured out where she was- three blocks from her apartment, amazingly enough- and began to make her way back home. She stuffed her hands in her jacket's pockets, fingers brushing over a piece of paper that hadn't been there before. She pulled it out, read it, and stood outside her apartment for a full minute before stumbling inside and locking the note and blanket away in a box under her bed.
(…)
Ran-chan,
I enjoyed last night immensely. Maybe it will happen again some day.
But fate is never usually that kind to me, so I imagine this will be the only time our paths cross in this life.
Good luck, Ran-chan. Hope the wind takes you where you want to go, darlin'.
Ichimaru Gin
(…)
She thought of him everyday for the next seventy years. She knew him for barely seven hours, but it felt like a lifetime, like a chance had slipped through her fingers faster than the sands of an hourglass. Her friends and family called her irrational, but it didn't matter.
He had shown her the stars.