Title : Angel or Demon

Theme : lol Hate

Characters : Grimmjow x Ichigo

Rating : PG-13

AN : Another FP story from Grimmjow. People really seem to love these. Doesn't follow previous story lines. It's a little more serious, and a little more depressing.

Oh em gee. Ichigo is kind of mean in this one. :c

The first time I met the kid, something happened. Indescribable and certainly unforgettable. It was as if something was sucked out of me, but I could never tell you what it was. It was almost as if he was consuming the very part of me that governed my impulses and visions. I no longer wanted to kill him, I wanted to torment him. I couldn't bring myself to end him because I had a horrible yearning to see him suffer more and more.

He was an angel of despair. A demon of joy. A walking contradiction of everything that I had ever known. Had he died and left his human-born conscious on Earth, he would be the greatest hollow to ever step into Hueco Mundo. We would quake in his shadow. He would always be around, but he would never show his beautiful face. I would love him. Adore him. Bid on his every whim.

But it wasn't the way it should have been.

Kurosaki Ichigo was a human man. No, he wasn't even that, he was nothing but a boy. If I was still human, he would be ten years younger than me. But I will say this: That boy will be more of a man than I could ever be.

My existence boils down to my basic lack of right versus wrong. I do whatever I feel the impulse to do, whenever I feel like doing it. I drove the boy to the brink of insanity for the simplest of reasons. I wanted him, but I could never have him.

So I broke him.

People are constantly confused about the life of the Hollow. We are not the undead, but we are not among the living. We are capable of love, fear, torment, happiness, joy and sadness. We lack conscious, but we have a soul. The higher the caste of Hollow, the more blurred the line is between good and evil. Between Hollow and Death God. Our hole is a physical representation of our loss of humanity, a trophy that screams 'I function on desire and instinct alone.' Why mine is shoved through my stomach is beyond me.

I remember the first time I touched him in a way that unrelated to death, horror and pain. He recoiled from me as if I was carrying meningitis or syphilis.

"Don't touch me," he hissed through a clenched jaw. Chocolate colored eyes struck my soul in a way that was both painful and honest. But I could see passed the mask, passed the facade and through to what was wrong. The berry was just as confused as I was. We were born and bred to hate one another. However, something else was stirring within each of us. What is was, I have still to understand.

I had ignored his words and pushed my fingers lightly though his blood soaked hair. I felt myself laugh suddenly as he turned his face ever so slightly into my palm while keeping his stern look of disdain. I saw it there, in his eyes. That look that I had long since forgotten. I hadn't seen it since I died and haunted who I thought was the love of my life. She had been beyond gorgeous while I was living. A picture of perfection wither her sweeping red hair and deep green eyes.

She had been sleeping with my best friend for nearly two years. I found out three weeks after I died. Desire and desperation drove me into eating their souls. Cheaters, liars and politicians taste the worst. Coincidently, virgins, children and swimmers taste the best. I'm not sure why swimmers go into this category, but they have always been among my favorites.

Kurosaki and I stood in that moment for what seemed like hours. My fingers brushing through his thick hair. His face flushed against my palm. Our eyes were locked with a glance that was floating on the dangerous line between arousal and hatred.

We parted that night without doing much harm. I think he felt bad for me, it was the first time he had seen me since my 'accident'. That's what I told him, at least. I wasn't about to confess that I had my arm chopped off at the shoulder because I'm a hot head that can't follow simple directions. So I just told him I had an accident during training, and they were working on fixing it. He believed me, like the naive bastard he is.

I came to the human world one night in the middle of November with a drive to kill. I hadn't managed to eat anything all day, and hunger pains were guiding my every step as I paced toward the kid's house. Slow, calculating, haunting footsteps seemed to echo throughout the entirety of my existence as I fought with myself. I stood outside his window and watched him carefully as he slept. His chest raised slowly with every inhalation and sunk with every lost thought. Arms thrown out at jarring angles and legs wrapped around the outside of the blanket, he looked like the definition of innocence.

I couldn't stop myself. I sank through his wall and descended on him like a hungry animal. Everything drew me to him, our polarity would always be our downfall. He was the embodiment of pure, good and right. I am the walking proof that sorrow and evil will always rein among the soul's of men.

He pressed hands against my chest as I dove into him. "No, stop, I can't do this," he muttered through sleep ridden eyes. Our lips collided in an explosion of want and regret.

I found my words as it became increasingly difficult to maintain my bodyweight over one arm. "I don't care what you can't do," I had said with a horribly lecherous tone.

Ichigo spent as much time pushing me away as he did falling into me. I wasted absolutely no time divulging in my real reasons for the intrusion. He wasn't helping out the situation at all, but he wasn't really hindering it either. Perched on my knees, my straightened form eased the removal of clothing. The clatter of wood on steel rang through the room as I dropped my sword over the edge of the bed onto the floor.

Sex is more difficult with one arm. It's almost more difficult for a trained veteran to have a good time with a greenhorn. I'm fairly certain he had a better time than I did, even if he was screaming about how wrong the whole thing was through tears. Grabbing his hair and yanking backward, he yelped as his face ran against my jaw. Sweat and tear drops mixed as I wrapped an arm around his torso to keep him from cowering back into his hole of contempt.

"I've got what you've been longing for," I whispered into his ear as he screwed his eyes shut and whimpered. "Stop crying, my little Strawberry."

Two weeks later, he shoved his zanpaktou through my chest cavity and pushed downward. Another scar to add to the growing collection of what he has given me. It wouldn't have been so bad had he not shoved it so far south that it ripped into my Hollow hole. As I vomited up a fresh amount of blood that spread out on the pavement, he backed away from my heap of a body and strapped his ridiculously proportioned sword across his shoulders.

"I'm sick of you," he muttered carefully, back turned to me. "You are disgusting, and whatever it is you think we are doing will end tonight."

I know I laughed then. But it wasn't quite a laugh because I was still puking up vermilion. "Boy, if you really meant those words you would have taken off my head instead of giving me this stupid flesh wound." I was having a difficult time speaking through the metallic taste dripping across my lips.

He simply walked away at that moment. I stumbled down the street, leaning on any sort of wall I could find. I would have just ripped a hole open in space and jumped dimensions, but I couldn't find Pantera. I needed that hunk of metal. It was the only thing that was perfect and constant in my life. It was at the exact moment I found my identity that a deep feeling of longing ripped through every wound in my body.

I hate being able to feel. I wish my soul would have vanished when I died.

I really adore the song Angel or Demon by Umbrellas. I actually adore all the songs by Umbrellas, but they are all about girls. And neither of these boys are girls. So I can't really write a fic based around a song, but I'll use it as inspiration. But you all should download the album Illuminare.

Short chapter. It's hard to find time between 18 credit hours and 35 hours of work per week.

This WILL be a two or three part chapter. I'm not leaving it there, so don't yell! xD

Review prease!