Chapter 9
I've realised that it isn't just me who wants to return home. He might look the same all the time, but it's the tiny things he does or doesn't do reveals how he's feeling. I think it's odd that despite being surrounded by 'lesser beings' as it was, we are still seen as abnormal and a minority, therefore making us feel somewhat inferior. For example, when I leave work for my lunch break, I find the people of Tokyo staring at me as they walk past. I've even been told that my eyes are 'abnormally green'. Wasn't quite sure how to take that.
"She… is very pale." Ulquiorra stated quietly, taking a sip of tea and returning his stare to the television screen. Of course, he was not wrong. The actress on the screen was in fact pale… however she was nowhere near the chalky white complexion that Ulquiorra sported so proudly.
"Yes, she is. And why, may I ask, did you feel the need to tell me that Ulquiorra?" I asked, leaning back in the sofa opposite the Cuatro. Immediately, I got the feeling that he was trying to point that he was not in fact the only pale-skinned 'human' on the face of the earth. And to some extent, he was right- there are a lot of ivory-skinned people around. However… none quite surpass Ulquiorra's almighty white skin.
Ulquiorra looked up at me through wisps of coal black hair, his eyes sparkling an electric green in the glow of the television. It was as if his eyes became the screen; they grabbed my attention and had me fixated until he realised what I was trying to do.
"Adoriana, I'd rather you didn't sit there and psychoanalyse my words. If you're just going to sit there all evening and gawk at me, I'd suggest you go and do something else."
I did not take that lightly. However, recognising that Aizen put him in charge and not me, I thought better than to take him up on it. Besides, I doubt I would have done anything about it even if I had been put in charge.
"Honestly, I'm not trying to 'psychoanalyse' you. At any rate, there isn't much else to do here, is there?" I complained nonchalantly, trying to be as polite as I possibly could do whilst being totally bored.
Five minutes later and I'm traipsing down the street outside, coat on and boots zipped up. Ulquiorra 'kindly' suggested that I go out. In other words, I was annoying him and therefore I had to go away. There I go again, 'psychoanalysing' him… although any person could see what he was doing there.
It's only early October, and whilst the days are pleasantly warm, the temperature began to drop rapidly as soon as the clock hit 6pm. I had a huge pebble-gray scarf on with a matching bobble hat and mittens, along with a milk-white coat and knee-high boots.
I wasn't sure where to go on a Friday night… this probably sounds ridiculous but bear in mind I'm not much of a party-get-drunk-and-laid kind of person. All around me were girls in ass-short skirts and tops that revealed so much they'd look less slutty if they'd been naked. I felt rather out of place in my over-the-top winter wear, being pushed to the side of the pathway by tall dancer girls and guys with overly spiky hair.
The streets were lit rather spectacularly; purple and mint green fairy-lights glittering away in the trees and the clubs and bars sporting their luminous signs. I saw myself in a reflection and sighed; I've never looked so vulnerable in my life. The group of clubbers behind me towered over me, jumping about in the street with their neon lights and whistles strapped around their neck. Beside me, a door opened and the clubbers huddled in. The only problem was… I seemed to merge in with them, and I tumbled into the club with them. It didn't even matter that I wasn't on the list (if there was a list).
And now I'm sitting confused and partly deaf at the bar, trying to work out who took my coat and how to send a text message to Ulquiorra. The music is so loud it's as if it's vibrating my intestines or something… I feel rather sick actually.
"Excuse… excuse me? Excuse me! Sir… hello?" I bellowed at the barman, who looked evilly cunning and was probably the person who stole my coat.
"Yeah hunny, what are ya havin' to drink?" He asked, drying out a mug in the way you'd expect a barman to in a cheesy film.
"Nothing, I just want to find out where the door is in this place!" I replied, looking around the club and furrowing my eyebrows when all I saw were people.
"What? Can't quite hear ya darlin'."
"The door! Where is the door!?"
"You what?"
"Oh piss off."
I clambered off of the bar stool and ambled through the crowd, emerging beside the toilets with yet another piece of clothing missing. I swear, the one single aim of these clubs is to undress people. Now I only had my skirt, vest top and scarf on. Hmph, some girl is going to be walking out of here with my hat, gloves and scarf on.
"Oi, will ya move outta the fuckin' way?" I turned around to see who I was moving for, and caught but a glimpse of long black hair and narrow, indigo eyes.
"N… Nnoitra…" I choked, staring at the tall, slim silhouette fading into the crowd. Of course, it wasn't Nnoitra. Why on earth would he be here? But… it would explain why I've been feeling as if he's next to me the past few days. Wait, what the hell am I thinking? For God's sake.
Dear lord, I'm obsessed.
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A/N- A super-long chapter to make up for the time between submitting new chapters! My laptop is fixed now, so hopefully I'll get to submitting chapters quicker now. Hope you enjoyed it :D CottonSocks
