Moving On

By DaHaloChick

Author's Note:

This is for Plantress, as a belated birthday present D

Some things to take into consideration: This fic takes place within my own interpretation of what Hueco Mundo might be like after the fall of Aizen. Don't like it? Go read something else! Also, if you couldn't tell by the inner dialogue, this is adult Nel that is in this story, not child Nel.

Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo and all else who own it, not me.

Thanks Tress for walking me down the path to Grimm/Nel goodness :D

Nel wasn't sure what has prompted her to come out this far into the vast sands of Hueco Mundo to bury a deceased body, but it just seemed to be the most proper place to do it. The first few handfuls of sand shoveled onto the blood-stained clothes had been the hardest, but now that she had started the process, she found herself unable to stop.

The green-haired Arrancar stopped after she had immersed the body's legs in sand, her fingers grazing the top of the fallen man's hand. As the winds ruffled her brown cloak, she twined her fingers with his, her heart clenching at how cold they were, despite the heat of the desert. Such strong hands, she thought to herself, stopped quite literally dead cold due to the selfishness of one man; a shinigami, no less.

Nnoitra had always been a fool. Nel cursed herself that it had taken the entire process of falling in love with the man for her to realize it. He was brazen, power-hungry, and quick to jump at anything that challenged him, and yet, whenever he was injured, she was there, patching him up even as he called her names and insisted he didn't need her.

She remembered how angry she would be at him until he'd come to her after he had healed, pull her into a kiss that was enticingly rough, and make love to her until she forgot the whole thing. She detested it and thrived on it all at once and, damn him, it worked every time.

She scoffed mentally at the thought of Nnoitra having anything to do with 'love' in any form. She was fairly sure he did not love her, but she had loved him, and for that, she felt this was the least she could do for him.

As she worked her way up to his neck, she felt the urge to stop and stare at his face one last time, give him one last kiss, but she stopped herself by turning her head away as she buried his head in the sand. She felt disgusted with herself, but this way far more than any of the other Espada would receive after their deaths.

"Goodbye, Nnoitra…" She looked down sadly at the mount of sand. The only thing that tore her eyes away was the sight of an approaching shadow. She looked up, seeing a familiar figure coming towards her in the sunlight. "I do not need to speak of how I feel to you again, however…I am moving on." Not that you would ever really care she thought bitterly as she stood up, pulling her cloak closer around her.

The figure stopped a few feet away from her with his hands in his pockets and a bored expression on his face. He looked down at the lump of sand indifferently before looking back up at Nel. "Are you done yet?"

She smiled slightly. "Yes, Grimmjow, I am ready to go. Thank you." She walked towards him, falling in step with him as they walked towards Los Noches.

Grimmjow looked at Nel out of the corner of his eye. "Did burying him make you really feel any fucking better?"

She thought about it honestly before nodding. "A bit, yes. You may not think so, but he deserved that bit of pride in his passing."

The blue-haired man scoffed. "Whatever. I think he was nothing more than a dumb-ass prick."

Nel chuckled a bit. "Well…yes, he was, but I knew him well enough to know he deserved to be buried. He was never happy here. Hopefully he can find whatever he considers 'peace' in the afterlife."

Grimmjow couldn't answer that. He honestly didn't care what the hell happened to Nnoitra, but he couldn't help but feel bothered by the fact that, even after his death, the 5th Espada had such a hold on Nel.

He had been sure he had rid her of that the first time he'd screwed her.

Grimmjow supposed he could liken Nel's unexplained devotion to Nnoitra to his own mixed-up feelings for the former 3rd Espada. He wasn't a sensitive man in the slightest, but Nel's recent emotional rollercoaster after finding Nnoitra's body had taken its toll on him.

And God damnit, she's crying again!

Nel didn't realize that she was crying until she felt Grimmjow's slender finger wiping a tear from her cheek. She turned to him, seeing his half-angry half-concerned expression. She sniffled. "Grimmjow…?"

He put a hand to her cheek to wipe away her other tears, sneering and looking away from her. "…I hate it when you cry, damn it. Stop it already!"

Nel felt heat rush to her cheeks. She had never thought Grimmjow would be possible of such a sentiment, but from dealing with Nnoitra for so long, she could easily read the concern in his actions. She put a hand over his, flattening it against her cheek. "…Thank you, Grimmjow."

He looked back at her, frowning. "I didn't do anything! Don't pull this sentimental crap on me—" His words were cut off when Nel tiptoed up to kiss him.

Grimmjow's protests were quickly drowned as he pulled her against him with one strong arm, burying his free hand in her hair since her cloak kept more interesting parts of her obstructed from his touch. Her taste was addictive, mixed with saltiness from her tears. The thought vanished when her tongue ran itself along his bottom lip. He let out a low growl, returning the gesture and deepening the kiss.

Nel was breathless by the time Grimmjow pulled away. She kept her eyes closed for several heartbeats before she dared to open them again. When she did, she was met with a look in Grimmjow's eyes that he had never seen before.

"Um…" she began, "That was…"

Grimmjow suddenly grinned. "Tell you what. You stop that damned crying, and I promise you we'll do that again."

For the first time that day, Nel's lips curled into a smile.

I'm moving on, you manipulative bastard.

"It's a deal."

PLEASE leave a review, its much appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it!