Disclaimer: Yeah. Kubo Tite's.
A/N: My favorite Bleach pairing, yo.
Kurosaki Ichigo tossed and turned in his bed as he often did at these late night hours. Sleep was a very unaffordable luxury these days. He tossed a glare at his closed closet. There was a definite reason why, too. His orange brows furrowed even further as he remembered the complicated turn his life had recently taken. It really was no one's fault, but at times like this when he was feeling extra resentful and bitter, he liked to have a scapegoat. Tonight, he picked the girl currently dozing his his closet.
Kuchiki Rukia. Pure evil in a tiny package.
Any minute now, he predicted that little cell phone of hers would go off on a ringing tangent and she's burst out of his closet, ranting about another Hollow. That was the reason why Ichigo had shunned sleep for so long--he'd be given a few hours before something new would strike and he'd be pulled away from his nice, comfortable bed and his nice, comfortable body. How dare she sleep so well tonight, knowing full well that something could happen. He itched to just pull open those doors and scream at her to get up, to share in his insomnia.
But he wouldn't because even if he looked like an asshole with that permanent scowl, he really wasn't so bad. Someone around there had to get sleep if he didn't.
He turned onto his back and stared up at his ceiling, counting the tiny bumps. Light from the street lights filtered into the room, so he counted the little lines splayed across his wall as well. He wouldn't count sheep. That was just stupid. Maybe he should count bunnies though, since Rukia liked them so much. It was probably what she did.
Kuchiki Rukia. Former Shinigami, temporary human.
He always had questions for her and she always had answers. But if he asked a personal question, would she acknowledge it? Or would she be like he was and turn him away? There were times when he regretted the hostility of their relationship. There were so many things he wanted to know. Not that he'd understand what she'd say anyway, what with her strange fashion of speaking. And she'd probably be rude about it too.
Sure, there were a few things he'd give Rukia. She was cute. Not in the hot, beautiful way of course--just compact. Convenient to carry and good for storage, like tupperware. Her spiritual arts were pretty neat too, but the way she bragged about them wasn't. He supposed she was smart as well, but only because she had grown up in a world he didn't know. She was sort of brave, but only because of her blind dedication to her job, which technically wasn't really hers anymore. Sometimes she was alright. Nice, even. Every now and then, when he half-mindedly picked up something she dropped, or buttoned a button she'd missed, she would give him a rare, sincere smile. There was a downside to that too--strange feelings would then flutter in his stomach, halfway between indigestion and adrenaline.
At least she was quiet. It didn't matter though.
He wasn't going to sleep anytime soon.
A/N: My favorite Bleach pairing, yo.
Kurosaki Ichigo tossed and turned in his bed as he often did at these late night hours. Sleep was a very unaffordable luxury these days. He tossed a glare at his closed closet. There was a definite reason why, too. His orange brows furrowed even further as he remembered the complicated turn his life had recently taken. It really was no one's fault, but at times like this when he was feeling extra resentful and bitter, he liked to have a scapegoat. Tonight, he picked the girl currently dozing his his closet.
Kuchiki Rukia. Pure evil in a tiny package.
Any minute now, he predicted that little cell phone of hers would go off on a ringing tangent and she's burst out of his closet, ranting about another Hollow. That was the reason why Ichigo had shunned sleep for so long--he'd be given a few hours before something new would strike and he'd be pulled away from his nice, comfortable bed and his nice, comfortable body. How dare she sleep so well tonight, knowing full well that something could happen. He itched to just pull open those doors and scream at her to get up, to share in his insomnia.
But he wouldn't because even if he looked like an asshole with that permanent scowl, he really wasn't so bad. Someone around there had to get sleep if he didn't.
He turned onto his back and stared up at his ceiling, counting the tiny bumps. Light from the street lights filtered into the room, so he counted the little lines splayed across his wall as well. He wouldn't count sheep. That was just stupid. Maybe he should count bunnies though, since Rukia liked them so much. It was probably what she did.
Kuchiki Rukia. Former Shinigami, temporary human.
He always had questions for her and she always had answers. But if he asked a personal question, would she acknowledge it? Or would she be like he was and turn him away? There were times when he regretted the hostility of their relationship. There were so many things he wanted to know. Not that he'd understand what she'd say anyway, what with her strange fashion of speaking. And she'd probably be rude about it too.
Sure, there were a few things he'd give Rukia. She was cute. Not in the hot, beautiful way of course--just compact. Convenient to carry and good for storage, like tupperware. Her spiritual arts were pretty neat too, but the way she bragged about them wasn't. He supposed she was smart as well, but only because she had grown up in a world he didn't know. She was sort of brave, but only because of her blind dedication to her job, which technically wasn't really hers anymore. Sometimes she was alright. Nice, even. Every now and then, when he half-mindedly picked up something she dropped, or buttoned a button she'd missed, she would give him a rare, sincere smile. There was a downside to that too--strange feelings would then flutter in his stomach, halfway between indigestion and adrenaline.
At least she was quiet. It didn't matter though.
He wasn't going to sleep anytime soon.
