She misses lying in his arms.
Outside it is raining. It begins softly, caressing the window. It watches the lovers. Sweat glistens on their backs. He pulls her hair, he loves her hair. It reminds him of the sun. They breathe, they pant, they moan in delight, in need of each other. Her eyes are blazing, a hell he willingly falls into. She grips his hand, their fingers locking and the pleasure that had been growing in her flows over. The rain watches the lovers and knows jealousy. The sky booms in insult and cries a deluge. The storm is loud and demanding of their attention, but there is only one thing she can hear and that is his heart.
Gin takes her hand and kisses every one of her fingers. He bites at her milky flesh and traces the ridges with his tongue.
Rangiku wonders why he leaves marks that will fade when he has engraved himself on the parts of her that mattered. Her head and her heart-they were blind to him. They let him in, knowing he wouldn't stay. They forgave the hurt they would endure.
His mouth craves her taste; his mouth curves into a smile and travels up: her navel, her breasts, her throat… It tickles. Though she laughs she is sad. She has to hold the moment close-every moment she has with him. It is all they ever have, moments, but she feels more in them than she feels in months, years.
Her skin is splotched paler than the rest with scars. He made those teaching her how to save her own ass. He goes to kiss her eyes. They flutter close and she feels the touch of his eyelashes on her cheek.
"Gin," His name is always on her lips. "I gave you a few scars too."
You did. He never says. He sits up a little and pulls her to him. Her back is to his chest. She cannot see him like this. She cannot see that she has gotten to him.
She misses the way he looked at her.
Like she was the only one he saw. Gin was awake for her. His eyes were wide open and there was care in his voice. He cared about her. He cared about himself when he was with her, his actions, his words. So much of it is silence and stone, a pawn and not the king-a shadow in fate and memory, he changed nothing but her and that was enough. That was too much…too much guilt.
She is the light in his life. She tears his skin and cracks his bones. She floods his thoughts. He does not see her, even though he wants so badly to cradle her face, like she cradled his body, and tell her okay, she was okay, she would move on from this. Gin does not see her; she is sobbing and wearing his blood. The only tears he could shed. He shed his weight in them for her. He sees their life together, made up of moments and smiles.
Her eyes are dark and hurt like hell. Her voice is wrecked from crying like the little girl she had to say goodbye to before she was ready, had to bury the dolls and dreams, but she whispers to the rain-"fuck off." It reminds her too much of him.
They were a storm. They washed away homes, happiness if mostly their own. They blew down defensive walls and carried off selfishness. For a moment she was a plural; we, us, they. Two hearts beating as one. Rangiku feels strange, lost, standing in a world without him. The night tries to soothe her, it has lost its lover too, but the black at the end of the day, only to shine on with so many thousands of stars, make her furious.
The moon never sees the sun.
She misses him more each day.