Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.
Word Count: 295
A Kiss for Shelter
Metronome
Anxiety forcing each step in that roundabout pattern seemed to keep the young woman's thoughts in a similar rhythm of back and forth.
She had left the hall only minutes prior to this restless bout of pacing within the confines of "her rooms".
Yes, she had served. He had allowed it, yet the tension in the air had not dissipated when she had returned to her cushion across from him.
In fact his rigid form seemed impossibly stiff, each movement made precise and flowing with all the grace of steel. He drank and ate with all the appropriate etiquette and practiced mannerisms of one of his class, but he was far from at ease.
Add to that that she had felt his eyes. He watched her from under his lashes, however subtly- yet she felt a wash of coldness in her limbs at the scrutiny. She herself had been too uncomfortable to attempt to do more than sip at a cup of lemon water. And this had further provoked him until the atmosphere was thoroughly saturated by strain.
"You will report to me at the same time each evening to dine." He had commanded icily before her departure.
Somehow she knew she had offended the master of the house. In some way, shape, or form she had threatened his dominance and she was not sure even he himself understood this.
Pausing abruptly, Xochitl's teeth left her lower lip mid-nibble.
So what if he felt threatened?
She was only doing what was natural to her- serving. As it was she knew nothing came for free. She was simply trying to find a way to compensate him for his consideration.
I'm not so demanding am I? Perhaps I'm taking liberties I shouldn't… Or perhaps… He's being unreasonable…?