"Prayer is not merely an occasional impulse to which we respond when we are in trouble: prayer is a life attitude." - Walter A. Mueller

X

Chapter Three

Byakuya's POV

"Um, just sit wherever you'd like," Ulquiorra said a bit timidly to me as I slowly walked further into his apartment while he took a moment to hang up his long, black coat on one of the golden hangers near his door, "I'll be in the kitchen."

His apartment was not as small as I originally assumed it would be – my assumption, of course, being based on my half-formed premise that a small person would not need so much space.

I realized just how wrong my theory had been as I observed the impressive view of the city from the large, connected windows that overlooked the tops of buildings and structures from his spacious and adequately furnished living room.

My eyes scanned across the span of the view the windows allowed but only to take in the whole image of the loud city made quiet and small from being on the twenty-third floor of his complex as we were; the subtle hues of purple and navy struggling to overtake the warmer orange and dying red of the sky above the solid silhouettes of skyscrapers that were endlessly dotted with sparkling yellow and white where there were windows and lights all over their tall sides.

As beautiful as the city looked from up here, I, unfortunately, knew this town in a much different way, therefore rendering me rather unable to stop and appreciate the city's natural attractive ambience and allure at the moment.

Too many times had I had to go out on nights exactly like this one to do something unforgivable; the image worthy of being on a postcard before me did not stir anything within me in the least…except for maybe a twinge of sorrow at the revelation of exactly that.

"I hope you like tilapia…?"Ulquiorra suddenly chuckled somewhat sheepishly from the kitchen as I could hear him rummaging around and pulling out various things from his refrigerator.

The semi-enclosed kitchen was on my left while the adjacent living room was left quite open directly ahead; a few of the kitchen walls were a pleasant peach color while that same color turned into a minor one to compliment the ivory and deep red that decorated the living room and hallway on the opposite side of where the kitchen was.

"That'll be fine," I commented solidly, remembering that the last time I had had tilapia, I did actually like it, "thank you."

Everything felt very connected and satisfying, being in here, but the things that stuck out the most were the many, many painted canvases that lay against the walls from the light tan carpet; almost like they were to perimeter the entire apartment.

Some were even leaning against the oversized, white couch and loveseat pieces that occupied the center of his main room that faced the television and stereo that had been set up against the wall amongst an array of modern-looking shelves and bookcases.

"What are these?" I could not help but ask with mild amusement and curiosity as I approached one of the canvases at random at knelt down to fully observe the painted picture.

This particular one was of an attractive young woman who was wearing a flowing, turquoise gown that draped over her shoulders while she peered out into the ocean from a rocky, sandy bay.

It was beautifully painted, and his use of vivid colors and perfectly executed highlights on the woman's face and dress fascinated me; that ocean looked too real, almost as if I could touch the canvas but then my hands would get swallowed up in those white and blue rushing waves.

"Oh those!" Ulquiorra chimed from the kitchen as sounds of something sizzling in a pan rang in my ears and captured my attention, "those are all my paintings. I paint for a living…mostly just portraits, but…whatever customers tell me they want painted, basically."

His explanation was staggered as I could tell that he was moving about the kitchen and getting distracted with his cooking and whatnot; prompting me to take one last look at the roughly 20 x 35 inch painting I had chosen before standing up to my full height and walking across the living room to help him.

Just as I stopped behind his large, cloud-resembling white couch so I may slip off my suit jacket, I picked up on the delicious aroma of pan-seared fish and parmesan, which made me unconsciously lick my lips as I was certainly getting quite hungry at this point.

"Do you need some help with anything?" I asked with a quirk of my eyebrows at his back, my view of him being obscured by the kitchen-side bar that was part of the semi-enclosure with a few wooden and white-topped stools on either side.

I effortlessly set my expensive, custom suit jacket down along the back of his couch; blatant, jet black on spotless, pure white; and was about to take another step towards him when I suddenly remembered that I was still had my guns on me.

"I am almost done, but I do think I could use another set of hands to help me get some plates and things, "Ulquiorra answered, his back to me as he was obviously stirring something that was on top of his stove.

I never took my guns off when around other people; that knowledge all but an ingrained, inarguable truth to me anymore from being in my line of work; but with Ulquiorra…there was no threat, no need for those kinds of thoughts.

I relaxed a little, telling myself that exact same reasoning a few times in my head, as I pulled my holster straps off my black-clad shoulders, down my arms, and laid my leather-bound guns on top of my suit jacket on top of the couch.

I quickly rounded the side of the bar that led into the kitchen, my hands already working to roll up my pressed, satin black sleeves up my forearms just below my elbow while my eyes scanned the quaint peach-colored kitchen with its white-tiled floor below, white appliances, and some of Ulquiorra's own artwork hanging in between the honey-colored cabinets overhead.

"Alright, tell me what to do," I said to him, my own overly casual words surprising even me as I watched him stir a pot of seasoned white rice that was next to our parmesan-crusted tilapia and steamed broccoli – all of it needing to get sized up and put onto plates, I assessed.

Tearing my eyes away from all of my inquiring observations, I drew my attention back to Ulquiorra, who I immediately noticed had his little pink tongue in between his small, pale lips as he stirred the cooling, thickening rice; his eyes showing of adorable concentration as he all but fought with the stainless steel pot before him.

I had not expected to see something so enticing despite its genuine subtly, and, before I could stop myself, my eyes became even hungrier than my stomach as I shamelessly let them roam down the length of his slender, perfect body in front of me while he was busy.

Ulquiorra, having been rid of his large coat that I had first saw him in, was wearing a long-sleeve, white cotton shirt that had black-threaded seams and simple, faded blue jeans that just seemed to hang off his narrow hips that would easily be dominated by my much larger, muscled ones.

"Um…drinks are in the 'fridge, and plates are in this cabinet," Ulquiorra explained, still with his shyness peeping through his words and tone to me as he freed a hand and pointed quickly to an overhead cabinet on our right.

Upon having my orders, my lingering gaze was snapped to full attention so I may carry them out at once, as I first stepped passed him to quickly retrieve some drinks from his refrigerator; placing them on opposite sides of his bar for us before opening up the singled-out cabinet to do as I was told.

As I carefully pulled two black ceramic, square plates from atop the neat stack of them inside the wooden cabinet, I could not help but spare a brief side-glance towards my host, surprised but still outwardly collected as I noticed that he had also been sneaking a look my way.

His eyes were even faster than mine to go back to what he was doing as I laid down the dinner plates on the countertop next to him; spoonfuls of perfectly cooked rice already finding their way onto them along.

Plates stocked up to our hearts' delight with portions of each item Ulquiorra had expertly cooked for us, I mindfully took the other barstool so Ulquiorra could sit down on the nearest one; my mouth eager to taste his generous cooking as everything steamed with rich, tempting flavors and smells all around us.

I could not remember the last time anyone had ever cooked for only me, and I was instantly humbled and touched at the gesture – my feelings of comfort and peace from being in this place with him steadily increasing…making me think that maybe I could have two sanctuaries in this life.

"Thanks for all this, Ulquiorra," I offered as we both got situated and I folded my hands together, "it all looks great."

Copying my indication, Ulquiorra folded his hands as well; his small, bashful smile making its way back onto his pale, beautiful face; as he said, "You're welcome. It was…it's not a problem."

Closing my eyes and assuming he would as well, I quickly spoke aloud, "Father of us all, this meal is a sign of Your love for us. Bless us and bless our food, and help us to give you glory each day, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

"Amen," Ulquiorra repeated as I opened my eyes and was still met with his pleased, awe-inspiring smile…like he was somehow proud of me; definitely something I could not place right away and decided to momentarily forget since I now had piping-hot food sitting in front of me.

Soon, Ulquiorra's adequately-sized abode was filled with the faint sounds of our utensils clinking against our ceramic plates, as well as our mild, somewhat hesitant conversation that was spaced out in between questions, answers, and chewing. All of our processes were acting relatively slow out of common courtesy to not hurry, but also out of this unspoken desire to prolong our tranquil, relaxing time together – the possibility that this might be the last time we ever see each other quietly nagging in both of our minds as we ate and made small talk.

Around a piece of broccoli, I commented honestly with an affirmative nod of my head, "You have a nice place."

I swallowed the food that was in my mouth as I saw Ulquiorra nod as well, casting his apartment an approving glance before regaining my gaze, and replying, "Yeah…it's um…a little big for one person, though."

I had thought the exact same thing at first, but had decided against saying so – a bit of comical relief flooding through me that he had just confirmed my 'theory' from before.

"Maybe," I agreed as I readied my fork to receive another bite to eat, "so then why do you live here by yourself?"

I had not meant for it to come out so rudely…but there it was, my overly direct question out in the open between us, and all I could do now was chew my food and wait for a reply.

Ulquiorra had just taken another sip of his water that I had gotten out for him before dropping his gaze from mine completely – my question clearly drudging up some bad tidings for my host and I instantly regretted asking it even more.

"I…didn't always live here alone, but that um…" he trailed off as he was obviously mentally fighting with himself over either how to tell me something or to even tell me this something that he was worrying about.

"It's okay," I cut in gently, hoping to spare him some embarrassment from my own failed attempt at polite conversation; something else that I was grossly unused to; "you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."

At my sincerity and understanding, he seemed to perk up a little bit as he nodded before he hardened his mouth as he said, "No, no…it's just…the day I met you was actually the day after he and I broke up. His name was Aizen and he was just so…controlling. Everything I did…was wrong to him, so he had moved out a while back. Then, four days ago he calls me up and tells me that he'd found someone else. I was so devastated."

His shoulders had dropped considerably while he had recounted such a story to me; a story that made me both feel undoubtedly bad for Ulquiorra's current struggle with grief and sense of loss, as well as a certain degree of violent hatred towards this Aizen character.

What a fool; does he even realize what he had just passed up?

Ulquiorra…was nearing absolute perfection in my eyes.

How could anyone leave someone so pure?

"Is that why you went to that bar that night?" I deduced gingerly while peering across the bar at him, his eyes still carefully watching the remaining food on his plate while his thinly, evenly arched eyebrows were lightly knitted together in mourning and distress.

"Yes, it was," he admitted while he only pushed at one of his few pieces of broccoli left on his plate with his fork; my own heart thudding painfully inside my chest as I considered how it had been my doing that had made him lose his appetite.

"Listen," I began, not even sure of what I was going to tell him as I spoke, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you something so personal…so I apologize. But, I'm here if you ever want to talk."

I could not believe I had just said that to him. He was not supposed to even know my name and now I was offering my friendship?

However, even though I was well aware that I was not supposed to really have any close friends outside the White Night Kyoutou, I could not stop from saying what I had to him – I wanted him to feel better; needed it, even; as I craved to have him smile for me once more…and I did not feel regret about any of it, either.

Watery, green eyes lifted back up to meet my waiting, gunmetal grey ones as he did grant me that warm, thankful smile of his as he said sweetly, "Thank you, Byakuya."

I breathed easier upon hearing those words; my mental discord of offering my friendship effortlessly dying from seeing such a positive result from him.

"Sure thing," I replied as I softly smirked at him as well; enjoying that I got him to relax around me again…as well as say my name in that lovely, little voice of his.

"But um…"Ulquiorra suddenly said before he cleared his throat so he could continue, "do you mind if I ask you some questions?"

I knew straight away that this was not a good idea, that the less he knew about me, the better…however…I still felt like I owed him for making him upset, and if he should ask something of me right now, I had better grant it.

I shifted my weight on top of that thickly-cushioned barstool; reaching out to grasp my water; as I said, "Go ahead."

His smile got bigger across his round, green-streaked face; making me feel better about my agreement to his idea already; as he said, "Really? O-okay…well, hmm…let's see…"

I chuckled at his enthusiastic pondering over something to ask about me as I drank from my water and carefully set the glass back down on the solid, honey-colored wooden bar.

"There's actually so much that I want to ask you, I don't know where to begin…but I suppose…"he rambled; amusing me as my smirk grew on my lips; as I leaned forward and placed both my elbows on top of the bar and rested chin against my interlaced fingers while I waited for him to finish his thought.

"What…do you do for a living? You already know that I paint…"Ulquiorra said at last, his eyes were trained keenly on my own, though his voice was unsure of if he should be even asking such a thing of me.

I licked the roof of my mouth calmly before replying, "Banking."

Another lie…one that I suspected he would catch right away without fail as I knew full well that he had seen too much about me to already assess that much.

"Banking?" he echoed, disbelief already evident in his voice as he quirked an eyebrow at me questioningly.

"Yes, I am in banking," I continued but not harshly as I leaned back and looked off somewhere else.

"I...see," he digested my blatant lie; clearly knowing and respecting that I did not wish to tell him my real profession, "…do you have any tattoos?"

My head whipped back to him from looking at a particular spot on his floor.

"Actually, I do," I replied honestly with a bit of an unrestrained smirk forming my lips once again; something I could not help but do given the nature of such a random question posed to me.

If only he knew.

"Oh! Can I see them?" he asked hopefully as his eyes widened and his lips unmistakably parted in evident wonder.

"Afraid not," I replied coolly as I proceeded to take another sip of my drink from dinner – my mind already screaming at me that under no circumstances is Ulquiorra to see my notorious and highly recognizable yakuza tattoos that covered all of my back and shoulders, "what about you?"

"Just one," he admitted bashfully as another tinge of pink stained his streaked, pale cheeks – his hands already pulling down the collar of his simple white shirt so he may show me.

I eagerly watched; entranced as more of his sheet-white flesh was being exposed to me; as I saw the very top of a boldly-lined, Old English number four that was tattooed over his heart; his fingers releasing his pulled fabric after a moment.

"What does it mean?" I asked again without truly thinking over my words beforehand – the thought flickering through me that I really was at more at ease while around Ulquiorra, I did not even critique and second-guess my own words before I said them aloud while I was with him.

"I got it a long time ago," he started with a bit of glee in his voice, "I was named the fourth best free-lance painter in Japan."

"Wow," I commented, genuinely impressed that his talent was that great and discovered, "you must be very proud."

I knew I was proud of him.

"Yeah…yeah I guess I am," he said with even more pink making its way onto his pale, smiling face, "but anyways…I've been wanting to tell you that I've just been…really impressed by your suits. They look expensive…?"

This man was seriously becoming way too cute for me to handle any longer, as I could virtually feel my heart melting at his humbling, adoring words that never had an ounce of boastfulness or unreasonably high self-efficacy.

Still smirking, I dropped my gaze before replying somewhat playfully, "Most of them."

Who was I to tell him that the suit and shirt I was wearing right now, this very moment, had come straight from Italy and had been hand-tailored for me specifically?

Who was I to tell him that because I really had nothing else to spend my money on, I did buy ridiculously expensive suits and items…as well as per this horrible, shallow norm that also existed within my Kyoutou?

"I just think they're great," Ulquiorra went on, still eyeing and admiring my sleek, black clothing and tie, "you'll have to let me paint you sometime."

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out – shock at such a puzzling statement seeming to have gotten the better of me as both of my usually stoic eyebrows rose up; thoroughly bewildered and unable to come up with a reply to that.

Seeing how I had been made rather speechless, Ulquiorra chuckled as he made to stand up from his barstool and clarified, "You know…your portrait. I just would really…oh nevermind; forget it…"

Quite abruptly, Ulquiorra walked over to his refrigerator, opened it, and was quick to bend over a bit so he could pull out something from the back – effectively hiding his face and leading me to believe that he just wanted his words to somehow not exist between us anymore.

Completely curious and more than confused, I stood up as well and rounded the open side of the bar; walking into the kitchen again and up to him as he straightened back up and closed his refrigerator door – two cold bottles of beer in his hand.

"You just really…what?" I quietly inquired of him as he stared up at me with wide, emerald eyes that somehow made his short, ruffled black hair look even blacker; his lovely, cherub face even paler; as he did have to crane his neck to be able to look me fully in the face with me being so much taller than he is.

Almost as if in a daze and still with our beers in his hands, Ulquiorra dreamily replied, "I just…would love to be able to paint someone as handsome as you...Byakuya."

My naturally half-lidded ash-colored eyes widened for the briefest of seconds as I processed his words; his unwavering stare almost serving as some kind of test to me; before I swallowed a lump that had formed in my throat before I came up with something to say back to him.

"Thanks for the beer," I said even quieter to him as I gently took one from his small hands, easily twisting off the ridged cap, and began making my way into his living room to sit down – my voice more than betraying my effort to remain collected about what he had just said to me as there had definitely been an underlying hesitation due to uncertainty and perhaps…gratitude.

I took a long swig of the thickly-brewed, wheat beer before sitting down on his overstuffed, white couch; my jacket and guns by my head on top of one the large pillows behind me – my mind a bit of a mess at the moment, which was why I appreciated the beer so much.

Black-clad legs spread casually wide, I could easily understand why Ulquiorra had purchased this couch…it was quite possibly the most comfortable piece of furniture I had ever had the pleasure of sitting on, and I decided on saying exactly that to my host as I saw him sit down next to me with his beer in tow as well.

"This couch is…amazing," I commented light-heartedly before tipping my beer back for another drink of the strong but satisfying liquid, my peripheral vision catching Ulquiorra take sips of his beer while he nodded his head in agreement of my observation – his slender frame seeming to almost disappear amidst the huge, pillowy comforts of the wide, deep couch that effectively cradled the both of us.

"It's one of the few places I can genuinely relax," Ulquiorra elaborated for me as we both sort of kept our eyes on the inactive television in front of us that was perched on top a black entertainment center in between two, large and fully stacked bookshelves, "…I get troubled by something, but then I just lay on this couch and it just…"

"Swallows you up and makes everything feel okay again," I finished rather quickly yet thoughtfully for him upon hearing the slightest indication that he was going to trail off again.

I had a similar place, though it was not a couch, but I could still relate.

"That's what Saint John's is like for me," I concluded to him before taking another drink of cold, bitter beer that was chilling my fingers before I briefly leaned forward so I could place the brew on top of his glass-topped coffee table a little ways in front of the both of us.

"I see…well…" he said hesitantly, still holding his freezing beer in both of his hands in between his knees as he sat a little less relaxed than my current display and still refused to meet my eyes just yet, "…you could…come here when you're troubled too…you know."

I stayed silent, just half-looking at my brown beer bottle on that simple, glass coffee table while I contemplated his words…interpreting them as how his suggestion meant that here, I would actually have someone to reply back to what I was praying for.

I still could not say anything, though.

"Byakuya," he tried again, this time setting his beer down on top of the coffee table to join mine before he shifted around to sit facing me while I continued to turn his previous statement over and over inside my head, "…where did you get that rosary from?"

At this particular question of his, I smiled sadly and dropped my head, the truth always being fresh in my mind with the words heavy in my throat.

"One day…I might tell you," I replied, my voice impossibly somber and a little pained as I made such a weightless reply to him – my soul still unable to allow me to say the same words that were burning inside my head aloud and to another person besides God.

"I hope that you do," he continued in that small, needy voice of his as he inched closer and closer to me, "because…I just really want to know more about you."

I exhaled deeply through my nose at his words, my eyes trying to fixate themselves on something off to my left and not on how Ulquiorra was closing the small remaining distance between us on his soft, wonderfully enveloping couch – my mind wholly perturbed as I was made painfully aware of such implications of his proposal, while everything else within me was in stark and stagnant opposition as I did also wanted him to know me at the same time.

If anyone, I truly did want Ulquiorra to know the real me that prayed to God for forgiveness almost every single night as I mourned my own doings and sought out redemption with every fiber of my being – my mistakes and misfortunesconstantly burdening me to the point where it was almost unbearable.

If anyone, I wanted Ulquiorra to know that I was not just some mindless killer…and that I was capable of so much more, just like everyone else.

"Byakuya," he whispered; the change in his voice prompting me to turn my head towards him but only to find that he was sitting unbelievably close to me now, practically in my lap, as his gorgeous eyes were half-lidded and gazing up into mine while his enticing lips were parted ever-so slightly while he had murmured my name, "did you enjoy having dinner with me?"

"Yes," I answered honestly and as equally soft back to him as I observed how he was intimately taking in my much more rugged and chiseled features with affectionate, adoring lowered eyes that made me, in turn, unable to look away from him.

"Byakuya," he breathed again as he slowly scooted the last possible inch between us so that I could feel his chest press firmly into the side of my arm and his thighs against one of my own, "will you kiss me…please…"

The next instant, I mindlessly, hastily turned to directly face him while I took hold of the side of his face with my left hand and all but crushed our lips together – there being absolutely no kind of resistance in his movements at all as I tilted his head back with my grasping hand and brought him even closer to me to deepen our passion-filled, meaningful kiss.

His airy, desperate words to me had thoroughly destroyed what was left of my personal barriers, and I knew that I could not resist him asking for a kiss, even if I had wanted to, thereby making me feel nothing but pure, silken bliss as our lips melded together and he easily let me dominate him and his petal-soft mouth that eagerly obeyed my every wish and whim.

Green and grey eyes kept closed, my gun-calloused hand held gently onto the side of his small, smooth face as I felt his slender fingers squeeze and cling to my other arm that was still firmly planted on top of the couch cushion – his actions all but begging for me to continue and do more with him while his naturally sweet, addicting taste beckoning me all the more.

Loosening my hold on his jaw, I used my own lips to part his own before I sensually slid my tongue inside his warm, inviting mouth, already in love with the barely audible groan that sounded deep in his throat as I leisurely stroked my tongue across his before luring it into my mouth to lightly suck and kiss.

His grip tightened on my arm like a silent lustful, plead while felt him purr for me again as I slowly teased his tongue with long, methodic sweeps from my own; my own body starting to heat up and weaken at the seams from such loving and torturous ministrations – this very kiss more than serving as a cruel taunt to each other's sex as I could already discern that he would be very willing and easily manipulated in bed and would let me do exactly as I pleased with him.

Our sweet, careful kiss was maddening in its own right; its temptation far too powerful against my lacking, disintegrating defensives; and I knew that if it continued that I was sure to lose my mind…something I knew I could not allow to happen with him just yet.

Breaking off our rushed but then slowed-down kiss that threatened to turn my bones into water and senses into faded memory, both of us took a much-needed breath while still keeping close as I tenderly stroked the pad of my thumb over his round cheekbone; just observing all of his stunning features for any hint of regret or remorse about what we had just done.

There was none – only the half-lidded and stirringly desperate eyes of the most beautiful creature I had ever seen peering right back at me with his fingers still tight on my arm as if to keep me there forever; to never stop what we had just started.

I licked my lips involuntarily before I carefully let my hand slide down Ulquiorra's slightly flushed cheek; my mind trying to recollect and analyze logically what I needed to do next…before something like that happened again and I was no longer able to think logically.

"…I should go," I said with evident displeasure in my voice; my decision clearly going against what choice of action I actually preferred over the one I had just voiced.

Pale, white fingers hesitated before sliding off my arm, sadness present in their touch and the way that he had let go of me, as Ulquiorra swallowed and then said timidly, "Oh…okay. But, um…am I ever…going to see you again?"

My melted heart swelled at such an endearing question and my eyes softened remarkably as I held his hurt, worried gaze with my own.

"I imagine you will," I replied with a authentically touched half-smile gracing my lips before I stood up, grabbed my guns and jacket from atop of the couch, and then smoothly showed myself out of his apartment; effectively leaving him with my taste still on his pale lips and my hopeful, promising words still filling the room.

As soon as I was on the other side of that white door; like a doorway to another dimension where I was not as I thought and nothing was as I currently knew it; I instantly sighed out the air I had been unconsciously holding before I quickly, deftly flung my leather gun straps around my shoulders and then slipped my light-weight black suit jacket on – my hazed, thoroughly rattled mind not agreeing with me in the least about succumbing back to my old, usual self again that had to wear such things, be concerned about virtually everything, and go about life in a way that was nothing but cruel.

How could I go back to all that after having seen and felt what I had this night?

How could I willingly go back to the source of all my pain when absolute bliss was just on the other side of this door?

Feeling certain that I was not too certain about a whole lot anymore, I stepped away from Ulquiorra's apartment and proceeded on exiting his building and, once again, immersing myself in the familiar, strangely comforting blankets of solitary, unpredictable night…a night, however, that I could not help but also deem as being…spectacular.

One thing was crystal clear to me, however, and that was that as soon as I got home, I knew I was going to continue drinking.

Author's Note: Huzzah! XD Got another one done. Yes! Stay tuned for the next chapter - it's going to be a whopper that no one is going to see coming...fufufu.