King of Wasteland
"Rukia..." he sobbed. He tried to drag his broken body towards hers, reached a hand out to gently pet her soft black hair. He cried out in pain as a foot stepped on his hand, just inches from her head. He had to touch her, to look into her eyes and apologize. This was all his fault. His cry grew louder as the heel dug painfully hard into his palm. His hollow squatted in front of him, grinning mockingly.
"Poor little king. Look what's he's done." he tried to get his hand out from under the hollow's foot. It was broken, he could tell. He tried to stop the tears for his friend from streaming. He was alone, again. He was alone. And right now all he wanted was to hold Rukia close to him. He wanted to apologize. This was his fault.
"I...I didn't do th-this." he whispered, choking on a sob. The hollow held a hand to his ear, indicating he hadn't heard. His anger swelled for a moment. "This was your doing!" and then confidence, energy and anger fled him. All he could feel was despair. The hollow laughed softly, lifting his chin.
"King's done this." he said, so softly and calmly that it almost made him believe those tainted words. This was all his fault. If he hadn't, if he had tried to...maybe the hollow wouldn't have killed them. And now he was all alone. The hollow smirked at him, pulling him up and into his lap, kicking away Rukia's corpse. But he didn't notice. He didn't even notice the throbbing pain in his hand.
Gently, the hollow kissed his neck, so slowly, as if he had all the time in the world to fully enjoy his king. And he did. He whimpered, glancing at Rukia's body, her blank charcoal eyes stared at him. He bit his lip to keep in another sob. "I'm sorry..." he choked. The hollow looked at him with interest.
"Do you really think sorry will cut it, king? Look what you've done." he forced him to gaze over the dry desert like wasteland. "You're the king of nothing now." the hollow cuddled him closer to his chest, kissing up his neck, his jaw, to his lips. He could still feel Rukia watching him, condemning him for doing this, for being alive, for killing her. He was sorry, so sorry.
"I just want to die now..." he told the hollow. He earned a cackle. He was kissed roughly, previously gentle hands holding him tighter in the hollow's lap.
"I'm not going to let you die. You're mine now." he forced him to look out at the almost purplish sunset. "Besides, if you're gone, who'll rule all this nothing?" before he could answer, the hollow captured his lips once more, laying him on the ground and straddling his hips. So gently, the hollow combed his hand through bright orange hair, lovingly, as if this was perfect. "Do you know what I want to do to you?"
He shook his head, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to stare at Rukia upside down. Docile pale hands took hold of his obi, untying it, letting his shihakusho fall open.
"Why don't you ask Rukia? I showed her." for just a moment, a flicker of anger flashed in his eyes. Rukia was dead now. There was nothing else he could do. He was sorry, so sorry. He closed his eyes, feeling fresh tears roll down his cheek even though he wasn't quite sure why he was crying. He felt a chilled tongue lick up the tears and shivered. The hollow hummed in amusement.
The hollow took his time, touching him slowly, softly, lovingly, as if what they were doing right now had a semblance of meaning. As if the hollow actually had feelings for him. He was alone now. All alone. And he just wanted to die. He was sorry, so very very sorry. He opened his eyes, again staring into Rukia's, wishing she'd stop looking at him like that.
"Look, King. This is your kingdom. Isn't it lovely?" there wasn't a hint of sarcasm as the sun set behind the hollow. The desert like ground was covered with bodies as far as the eye could see.
Sorry. I'm so sorry.
OWARI
hate it, still. Ick. Review.