Glancing at you, a split second shift of irises- and yet the scene was slit apart for me to see. The brightness spilling forth from your eyes into your smile, that smile of slips bordering on a near maniacal smirk with a playful, so inviting edge, irresistible, and yet I denied myself from claiming it as my own, to secretly smile in triumph at your shock, at the surprise of snatching your usual composure away in a swift, single moment, to shake you, to take you, to make you mine.
In that second, I'd be your first. Yes, it'd be my first time as well- the first and last time I seized you. Because after that, I imagine your countenance would contort into confusion, you're confounded by this rash foolishness- even though you know all about being wildly your still beautiful features would shift to rage, an amazing expression and you strike-just once.
I'm the stunned one now, on my back with the breath knocked out of me. Though I expected the blow, I had no idea it would be this...this powerful, and yet controlled. Almost uncharacteristic for you. You put a perfect amount of force behind it, to deliver that perfectly clear message that you were in perfect control,over the situation, over me, over your perfect self.
Even as I lay there, I consider that every day you take my breath away anyway. Your walk, your talk, the sight and sound and sometimes the silence that is you. And your touch, if ever you did, it'd make me breathless- but no, you'll never, that's surely impossible.I'll never hear such a special silence from you- the sort that is barely punctuated by graceful gasps, or graceless groans- I can't decide which I'd rather listen to through out the night, this eternal evening of the desert...Definitely though, I want to hear my name torn from your lips, a scream, a cry, a moan-or even just a whimper, I want to hear it, to break you and your silence, just for once. But of course, that'll never happen.
How is it that an absence can define anything, let alone anyone? How has the emptiness in my hand evolved to the shape of someone, a person...a person who I felt nothing for, and thought even less of. Yet this nothingness has consumed me wholly, and I can do nothing about it, and you.
The only physical contact we'll ever have is in our fights, but even then, you're so far out of reach, you're untouchable. The only time you'll gaze at me is in contempt, or more typically, boredom- an insulting indifference toward me.
It happens tonight.
Blue, green orbs glower, flickering with fury; livid and eyes are alight, shining like sapphires, glittering like emeralds and glowing with loathing.
Surely you must be shaking, trembling inside with anger, right?
Your voice is perfect.
"ULQUIORRA!" is snarled, lunging forward and launching a cero. I see the satisfaction gleam in your eyes, reflecting the light from the bright blue ball blazing toward me...
Your voice is perfect.
Perfectly steady, crisp, cold; and somehow detatched and devoid of the vehemence that you harbour, a displeasure desperate to haunt me-yet you refuse to betray it, loyal to your stoic mask as you are to Aizen.
"Trash."
You utter a single word to deal the final blow.
I had expected that, but not just that. I had anticipated, or maybe I had wanted, you to curse and yell and unleash your wrath, but there was none of that. Not a single death threat. It was like I wasn't worth your time or temper. As if to do any of that would be to waste your attention.
"Ulquiorra," I hiss as my fingers curl, clenching into a fist, the brevity of your breath is a curt and cruel cut, an attack edged with insults unsaid.
There's no response from you though, not a hint of hesitance. No falter in your step, no slight pause to turn to deliver a scathing shot. You move further and further away from me, closer to the exit, slipping out of my grasp and into the shadows of Hueco Mundo's hallways.
Aizen's hallways. They belong to him, and all who walk them do as well, walking and waiting on his commands. What rubbish. We made our own paths, tearing through a million souls, from the forest of Menos Grande, monsters that merged and yet we emerged- individual Espadas with the power of being, that belongs to us, the strongest, above all other Adjuchas and Arrancars. We ran from the threat of repulsive regression, to return to nothing more than an existence as a multitude of weaklings with no wills, these we buried in our bodies, beneath blood and bone and beyond skin and flesh to have a name of our own at last.
"Ulquiorra," I growl as you disappear from sight. I'm defeated, again.
But I can feel it, I'm getting close to hitting you, to closing the distance between us. I've lost to you another time tonight, but...I haven't lost you.
"Ulquiorra..."I whisper a fourth and final time, before you and everything else fades from my view, the darkness swallows all, including me.
Grimmjow and Ulquiorra stared at each other from their rather unusual positions, the latter's hand still upon his inferior's face, a frown carved upon his rugged features. Tense expressions, and thoughts were etched and shared upon both countenances.
"I could kill him, it'd be so easy, here and now."
"Why is he touching me this way though?It's uncomfortable."
"..."
"..."
"...What is this heat I feel rushing to my face?"
"I can still kill him though...right?"
Hello folks, just a slight edit. I've combined chapter 2 and 3 together to make them easier to read, and also I think it's better for the story. Anyay, thanks to anyone and everyone who's read this and do continue to let me know what I can with your reviews do to improve!(:
~Wriot