~~~Shades of Gray~~~
The color gray divides them. Black of those who purify the lost; white of they whom wish to destroy everything utterly. But what is gray yet as a bridge between the two opposing entities?
He thinks her foolish with her ideas of wrong and right. Fighting for all the wrong reasons. She does not fight for herself, she is there to fight on the behalf of those whom cannot defend themselves. Against him, he thinks, taking in rare amusement at her predictable stance. She sees him, the rarest touch of his mask slipping, visible in the cruel light shining in his eyes of the deepest poison green.
She knows, he finds playing with her mind a delightful thing.
Eyes flash and dangerously her mouth frowns; he's insulted her for the last time. This time, this day, no matter what he will pay dearly. Gracefully, she dances around him, wielding her blade of ice. Unperturbed, he becomes her partner, side-stepping, evading her attacks. Hands that speak of heartless cruelty wrap tightly over her clenched fists, lowering them, wresting control.
Furiously, she stares into the wasted beauty of his eyes, her body trembling, though she refuses to admit it; she's scared. Knowing at any time, her life is suspended in his deathly pale hands. His grip is hard, crushing even, in conciliatory defeat her sword is lowered forcefully aside.
She turns her face now, unwilling to see her death reflected in poisonous green. He moves, she senses him lean in near. Nearer. And then...charcoal lips brush her cheek, tracing a moist path to her mouth. She can smell him, a sharp aesthetic odor of strict cleanliness that brought to mind a Hospital. The brush of black and white fabric and the firmity of his taut chest does nothing yet serve the curious helplessness she finds overcoming her previous sensibilities.
There's no rejection to be had as their lips press together, her mouth opening, discovering interestingly enough; he doesn't taste like anything. Her body tingles in places where no other male has awakened them before. Eagerly, almost, she closes the remaining gap between their bodies until they're up against one another. Him, bending slightly over her as she tilted her head back, his tongue roving inside her, feeling the wet muscle moving, exploring the secret crevices of her orifice.
All too soon it is over and he's pulling away. Breathless, for her lips are bruised and flushed a delicate red. He looks at anything but her, the evidence of his want visible in the loose front of his hakama. She blushes, realizing it's for her. "You must not speak of this to anyone," he warns, finally meeting her eyes for an instant. She sees it there; frustrated longing and knows her own face must mirror the same disappointment. Briefly she nods, then he turns to leave, having released her hands long before.
"What was that?" she asks, studying the edges of the bright world where she was and the crystalline grains of sand that made up his world, infringing on the two from the Garganta he had opened.
"I do not know," he says truthfully.
For Ulquiorra Schiffer does not understand the fine line, the indistinct shade of gray that separates himself from her.
~~~Finis~~~
A/N: Don't own Bleach. Hmm...sleepy .-) please review!