Disclaimer: For the last damn motherfrakkin' time, I do not own Bleach. Not the crap under the sink, or the anime.
A/N: Yay, I gave out candy! Happy Halloween everyone! And guess what??! Halloween is my anniversary! Freakin yeah! :D For some reason, I joined this site on Halloween in 2005. How weird…anyway, I hope everyone had lots of candy. ^^
Okay…on to more pressing issues…as you may have noticed, I changed my fic rating from T to M. This is because well, I figured the themes were pushing it. Also, I might have some unspecified citrus in future chapters…but I'm not promising anything. Don't forget to drop me a review, because all of your words bring joy to my angstified soul. Muchos gracias to:
Brighit R. Gauthier, Lady Kaliska, frostedheavens, Dreamsofdragons(x2), DoodleNoodle-no-baka(That last ingredient was particularly tasteful darling! XD), (Of course you're not a bad person!), EspadaGirl(Indeed, he is.), and Alucard's- Master.
For those of you who put this story on alert, thank you as well. (-cough-Review please-cough-)~
Chapter 7 Choices
Justice is…
…the administering of deserved punishment or reward. In his eyes—his mind, there was no ethical line that bisected justice…because justice is just, and it is not as vague as good and bad. To justice he held the greatest servitude. And at one point and time, justice was defined by one man…and that man was Aizen Sousuke.
Black and black are incomparable; one darkness can seep into the skin of the other and wreak havoc just beyond the area that his eyes could not see…he understood darkness, but never was he able to peel away the physics that concealed the true Aizen. Could realization be accomplished through sight? Never had he questioned himself so vigorously…never had a theory tortured him so heavily. In his lair of blindness, he had once presumed that Aizen, the harbinger of justice, had administered him the reward of promised peace. His ineptitude and his lack of foresight could not have brought him to this moment…
And so he thought…if damnation is so easily cursed to blackness, how could he truly see the devil, if he could not? Therein lay his weakness; he needed vision.
Tousen was an intelligent man. The odor of tea leaves was upon her, bedazzling his systematical approach. In this dynasty of great power there were no games…Tousen had no place in games. There is only standard. And Aizen Sousuke had insulted him heavily by persisting in this roll of dice...
He was toying with that girl.
But he found that he would rather like a game of Russian roulette himself…if it were to grant him the reward he deserved…
Then, he wondered, would he feel justice?
What would she say when he asked her to grant him insight?
He decided it would be vile of her to say no…
--
Truly it was disenchanting to watch her expression settle out into a plaintive look of enormous anxiety. Had he known that his charm was dischargeable, he supposed he would have had her right then; pristine thighs opening to greet the kissing mouths of the Iris Ensatas. He would press the thick stem of a Japanese Iris between her lips to keep her quiet. Riveting. However, Aizen strangled the thought, feeling that his lustful tendencies were beginning to fluctuate on frequent scale that was not quite adaptable. However, he could not help it. She was lovely…too lovely to be thought of too indecently. And mere days ago, he told himself that he had not wanted her.
He could have her any time he wanted.
But he was not going to do that…
Though he was so sure that her moans would melt into the back of his mouth like music...
He watched as she sat across from him, teasing the sparse mouthful of tea within the pits of her cheeks. She was deliberating over the taste…and quite frankly, it was rather fascinating to watch. Pure idiocy in a sense…but definitely fascinating.
"It's sweet…" She said softly, after she had swallowed. She ducked his gaze once or twice, then settled for staring at her empty plate.
"You do not sound pleased." He responded in idle experimentation. He leaned back into his seat like a king; folded his hands over the great white arms of his chair.
"It's good, Aizen-sama…I just…I'm not thirsty." She repressed a sigh, her heavy bosom heaving slightly against her breathing.
"Hn." He was vaguely amused. "It cannot be helped."
Orihime's look instantly contorted into that of vague terror. It only furthered to test his amusement.
"It would be surprising had you acquired an appetite so quickly…what with your reaction just mere moments ago."
Orihime's cheeks exploded with pink flame and Aizen realized that she would not have any intelligent verses to return. He nearly had to carry her to his personal dining quarters, for his touch had robbed her of her rational sensibilities. Aizen settled for sipping his tea, a small chortle escaping his lips.
She then, in response to the impulsive 'Ha!', blinked profusely.
Aizen smiled knowingly, his eyes latching onto hers once more.
She looked utterly confused.
He narrowed his eyes at her. "You may enter."
"Wh—"
The words were torn from her mouth as a literal battalion of arrancar swarmed into the room. With the way the double doors slammed open, Orihime would have thought a bomb went off. They were like ants, sweeping carts of gourmet food by the shovel load into view; meats, breads, fruits, and cakes all collaborating to make a grand feast fit for a thousand. The extravagant perfume of it all was enough to make Orihime tear up…her saliva glands swelled below her tongue and she prayed Itadakimasu!
Food.
It made even the most deranged fool forget about their problems.
Aizen displayed no impressive reaction, merely sipped his infamous tea while the girl looked on at the carnival of preparations.
And once it was all said in done, there was so much food laid out on the square dining table that neither occupant had room for their plates.
When Aizen dined, the man dined in style.
"Aizen-sama," A masked arrancar addressed, "The preparations have been made as you asked."
"I believe…that it is to my satisfaction." He responded slowly. "You are dismissed."
The arrancar bowed at waist, then he and his minions flooded out of the vicinity.
Orihime was already ladling multi-colored globs onto her plate. She was rather shameless in her scouring; chunking up edible combinations that even he did not know existed.
"Sugoi..." She sang, spooning a goofy amount of paste into her mouth.
Aizen slowly, very slowly raised a brow. His calculations had failed him. He had expected a sensual dinner. Her eating went beyond the barriers of sensual. But still…it quirked something within him that he could rather not understand.
--
Aizen was staring at her.
She stopped midway, and the forked fish slipped into a puddle of bean paste. It was hard to explain the sort embarrassment gained under the observation of very articulate eyes. Very articulate, attractive, maroon colored eyes that made her throat swamp with enough heat to melt food before it passed into her stomach. Her face burned…and for a moment, she lapsed into a wide realization that she could not possibly be enjoying herself.
But she was…indeed, she was. Or she had been.
She settled her fork down, gray eyes falling to her lap. "Gomen nasai. I did not wait for you to start eating…that was very rude of me."
Aizen pushed his chair back, and stood to his full height. She stiffened, heart twanging in her chest, the intensity multiplying as she felt him draw nearer—
And there was a noise, like the harsh fluffing out of clothe, and then something white and square layered over her chest. She turned her head…Aizen was behind her, leaning over her head to tie a dining clothe around her neck. She drifted into a temporary state of rigor mortis…felt the stiffness of it circle her neck with the gentle grace of his ministrations…so stiff was she now that the goose bumps did not have a soft enough surface to infest…
"It would be rather disappointing…" He breathed softly from behind her, "To see such lovely attire stained by bean paste…"
He plucked the knot into a finishing tightness and stepped away. "Wouldn't you agree?" He was walking back to his seat as he spoke, eyeing the space that was straight ahead of him.
"Of…of course…" She forced herself to speak. "I do…Aizen-sama…"
"It pleases me to know that we see eye to eye. That is why," He sat down again, sleeves gracefully sweeping ahead as he pulled food onto his own plate. "I have a proposition for you."
"…a proposition?" Her eyes grew startlingly bright.
"Yes. However, it will be revealed after this meal is finished."
--
She'd stripped a quarter of nearly every dish because she wanted to taste everything. Variety: the accentuating seasoning of life.
The woman could eat.
He did not need to wonder about where all of her calories were distributed.
She forked one last piece of cake and he watched as she slumped back like a deflated balloon. Peculiar…he had not been expecting this behavior at all. But it had not served as a deterrent.
"You enjoyed your meal." He said, an elegant smile tracing his lips.
"Yes." It took some effort to speak, apparently, because she sounded slightly out of breath. "It was delicious, Aizen-sama."
He only responded by tripling the intensity of his gaze. "Orihime…I am going to allow you two options."
It was amazing how she shot up, as if a fork of lightning had suddenly detonated quite violently in her system.
"You may live here, in my personal quarters, until I release further instruction…or, you may simply continue to live in your provided cell. Know this…my comforts delve far beyond expectations…however, you will not be allowed to step foot beyond the garden of Japanese Irises.
"Despite this, your space to roam will be nearly infinite. I assure you, Aizen-sama does not disappoint."
Orihime stared at him, a bubble of aching proportion procuring a major corner of her stomach. Part of her feared the better selection of the choices…knowing that such a push in differing living spaces could lead to things…not so prudent. She did not know what this meant. He was not forcing her to do so, merely giving her the option of delving into a more personal part of himself. It was eerie, and she was swept with discomfort.
Yet at the same time, she felt an opposing sweep of longing, wretched in its intensity, folding over this weirdness.
"Aizen-sama—"
"It is alright…" Her ears drank his stark baritone, "I will give you until tomorrow morning to decide."
"Wait--I don't understand why you are doing this--"
"It is quite simple. I would like to see you more often."
She blushed severely. "But I thought that you are always busy, Aizen-sama—"
"Tomorrow morning." He cut her off. "I will personally assess your answer."
Her heart was pounding in her chest. "…hai."
He threw her a satisfied smile, then drew himself to a stand. "Come here."
She was expectedly clumsier than he was as she stumbled over. The dining napkin loosened from around her throat… fluttered to the ground. She stood three feet away from him, her arms limp at her side.
"I wonder…did Kurosaki Ichigo ever tell you how beautiful you are?"
She closed her eyes, struggled to speak. "A-ano…no…"
"I thought not." He drew her close, and she trekked forward in lazy obedience. "Open your eyes."
She couldn't…because she knew, that if she allowed herself to do so, again…she would…
"…why won't you do what I tell you?" He whispered, his breath warm against her cheeks, "You are a very disobedient woman who is in need of punishment."
He was taunting her…
"Gomen nasai." She opened her eyes fractionally, only to see that once again his lips were poised directly above her own.
"What do you suggest, Orihime…I cannot ignore your tendency to disobey me." He leaned forward, capturing her top lip in a sensual nibble. "You might begin…to get ideas." He placed his lips fully over hers…her sweetness was impeccable…her softness, incomparable…
And he abruptly ended the kiss; only to pull his lips in a soft trace just beneath her eye. Placed his hands on her shoulders…cupped the delicate roundness. She grabbed the openings of his jacket, and he smiled into her skin.
"Come closer…" His voice rumbled into her.
Like a ghost she fell, pressing her body into his…his hands fell, and he wrapped them lightly around her waist. His warmth…she wanted it…she wanted his affection. She instantly wanted everything he could give her…
"Aizen-sama…" She said weakly into his chest, clutching his robes. "I want to stay here…with you."
"I know." He responded, drawing his hands up her spine. And he smiled…if only she could see the hint of deviance twinkling in his eyes. "I know…"
--
A/N: Wee!! Completed 30 mins before midnight!! Please review!!