Chapter Eight: Flor con Veneno

Cyan stalked around Stark, watching his every move, enjoying the sensation she got as his eyes met her in a slight glare. She wanted to touch him, but knew that after he caught her mutilating a fracción, he might not want her. Earlier before running into Stark coincidentally, she was having a friendly conversation with the fracción she ended up murdering. She had her reasons for doing so, imposing and selfish, but a good reason nonetheless. He offered her a night to crown herself queen. She never noticed when her human memories began drowning within the Arrancar she became, but she allowed them to continue dying deep within the remainder of her conscious. The man she was conversing with had done nothing bad to her other than ask for physical contact, which she found discomforting. Then he touched her and somehow, she attacked him as some defense mechanism, an extreme one.

Stark continued to stare at her with piercing blue eyes. She stopped in front of him after he mentioned something about her looks. She reached for his face but he stopped her, grabbing a hold of both wrists tightly. "It's my blood," she whispered. He looked down, looking at the open cuts across the palm of her hand. "It still hurts."

He tugged her hand closer to his face, running his thumb over the sleek cuts, causing her to wince at his rough touch. Their eyes met, staring intently at one another. She pouted, pulling her wrists away, but Stark tightened his grip. He leaned closer to her watching her expression change; the blood on her hands was fresh. Cyan's wrists were moved out of the way, as he leaned closer to close the gap between them. She felt his lips brush against hers, but before she could do anything, he moved away, letting her go. Cyan glanced over his shoulder to see a female Arrancar, staring at the scene almost in shock. When the girl laid eyes on Cyan, her eyes widened. She moved in front of Stark, pointing two fingers in the girl's direction. Stark's hand shot up, stopping her, again.

"You will not kill her," he stated. He looked over at the girl. "Instead of standing there trembling, clean up the mess behind us." With that final order, he pulled Cyan in the direction of her new room, brushing past the red-haired Arrancar, who let out a gasp at the gruesome sight in front of her. She looked back, catching the red tint on Cyan's clothing. The red-haired Arrancar recognized her to be the newest Arrancar in Las Noches, the one at the foot of the Espada, but even if she was beneath them, there was more to fear.

"You're going the wrong way," Cyan stated, looking at Stark. He turned back to her, stopping. "My room was moved to the opposite direction yesterday." She grabbed a hold of him instead and began pulling him along back to where they came from. She wanted nothing more than to avoid the idea of having been caught killing yet again, but unfortunately Stark had begun appearing in the places she would have never believed. Even if they were mere coincidences, there was some extent to how many were acceptable in that place. He started to wonder if someone else was pulling the strings.

By the looks of things, Cyan's room did change consistently. If he were to look for her, for whatever the reason, it'd be troublesome. When she opened the door to her room, he noticed a similarity with the others, a simple, but quaint bedroom, with a small window, which always sat overlooking another tall tower of Las Noches. She also had a comfortable bed that obviously only fit one. She pulled her shoes off at the entrance, leaving them behind on the ground carelessly followed by her black socks. It was a simple square. Stark felt awkward in such a small room with such a strange woman. She opened a door and walked inside, closing the door behind her.

Cyan cleaned the blood off her skin. She tugged at her top, pulling it open and cleaning off her chest from the bloodstains. Even her hair had suffered some tainting, but she easily cleaned it off, washing only the bits that managed to catch crimson. She wasn't used to attacking anyone so aggressively, so she sustained a few scratches on the palms of her hands. She looked towards the door, wondering if he would stay there waiting for her to get out. Cyan felt some anxiety standing in her dark washroom. If she were to leave, she'd be driven by her own instincts like that night. She splashed cold water over her face and wiped the droplets off with the back of her hand. She searched the room. She didn't have a towel. She opened the door, stopping at the sight of Stark standing against the wall, looking towards the window.

She walked to the small hallway from the entrance of the room, pulling open closet. She pulled a towel to her face, dabbing away the droplets of water. She could feel his eyes on her, staring at her intently. She looked at him, feigning curiosity. "Is something wrong?"

"Not with me," he replied, pushing his hands in his pockets.

"I have no problems either," she replied, a smile on her face.

"Your problem is self-control."

"What do you mean?" she inquired, ignoring all her previous actions of aggression. No one else by Stark brought them up to her as self-control issue. She didn't think that really was the issue at hand.

"I've caught you killing Arrancar left and right," he stated. "You never seem to have a good reason. You're also planning to kill Nnoitra as well."

"That's your assumption," she replied, brushing aside the idea of murdering that annoying lanky man. She walked closer to him, her hands twisting the towel in her hands. "I have done nothing harmful to innocent Arrancar, every death had a reason."

"What are your reasons?" he asked.

"You," she whispered, grabbing a hold of his face and pulling it down towards her. Their lips met once again, this time it was consensual. They moved their lips roughly against one another. Her arms snaked around his neck and he grabbed a hold of her small frame and pressed her against him. He was compelled by her in many ways and it might have been for that reason that he wanted to keep his guard up around her, but with her controlling nature, he found himself losing. She opened her mouth against his, running her tongue tentatively against his lips and this time he responded, aggressively. His hands tangled into her hair as he opened his mouth, moving his tongue against hers, savoring the taste of her poison. She ran her hands down his hard chest, holding onto his white jacket.

Cyan pulled away from him. Something overcame her and she quickly closed her jacket properly. "I wasn't done yet," he stated, pulling her face back towards his.


Title Translation: Flor con Veneno, Spanish for "Flower with Venom"