Summary: He wanted to take care of her in every way possible.
Rating: K
Word Count: 317
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach.
a walking daydream
bubbles
The water is lukewarm against her pale skin.
But she feels a trail of fire run down her back when Ichigo traces the curve of her spine with his fingers. He sits behind her in the bathtub, using a washcloth to clean her back. It's a simple task that he always insists on doing when they bathe together.
The first time he offered, she had been embarrassed and hesitant, protesting that there was no need, that she was more than capable of doing it herself. However, when his gaze met hers, she saw how badly he wanted to do it. He wanted to take care of her in every way possible.
So she lets him.
And without a word, he takes it upon himself to diligently wash her body, tenderly touching each one of her alluring curves that seem to go on forever. With soft hands, he lathers her long mane of hair that he admires.
While he does this, she tells him about her day. How the reading of her children's novel went at the local library. The way the kids laughed at her characters' antics. The number of hugs she received from those vibrant little people.
He hardly says anything, making only some sort of sound that translates into something that only she understands perfectly. And in between each story, Ichigo leans in and kisses her on the shoulder, behind the ear, and wherever else he can get his thin lips on.
Giggling, she wipes the bubbly suds she had been playing with from her face and turns around to face Ichigo. His arms wrap around her waist as she grabs the bottle of shampoo and begins scrubbing his bright hair.
Ichigo leans into her tender touch, closing his eyes at the sensation.
He likes this.
She talks, he listens.
And there's nothing in the way between them.
It's their favorite part of the day.