I do not own bleach, only my oc and plot!

K.C.M.O : Thanks for the review! Glad you're enjoying the story. Stay tuned, cause lot's of stuff happening in the next couple chapters!

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So this chapter came out a week late. But better late than never, right?

December 31st, the last day of the year, also know as New Year's Eve. Nicara and Grimmjow were sitting in the living room. She was telling him about the countless holidays in the human world.

"So basically like most events, people get drunk and party," Nicara explained.

Grimmjow straightened his posture on the sofa. "Are you suggesting we get drunk tonight?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

"What? No, I was just letting you know a little about human culture."

"You're no fun anyways, I'll go out myself." He headed to the door and slipped his shoes on.

"Go ahead," she obligated, crossing her arms. "Plus I'm never ever going drinking with you again."

Grimmjow smirked after hearing the last part. "Why not? I know you enjoyed it."

"In your dreams," she spat.

He sighed, "If only you knew what happened in yours."

Nicara raised a brow. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing," he quickly stated, as he put on a jacket and headed out. He never told Nicara exactly what happened after she got drunk. And frankly he didn't want to. It would only make things awkward between them.

Ever since the night she got drunk, Nicara would always have a weird feeling in her stomach when she was around Grimmjow. Perhaps it is a side effect from drinking too much alcohol the first time? Either way, she wasn't planning on ever getting drunk with Grimmjow again. Even now, she couldn't remember what happened after her second glass of beer.

Waking up from her slumber, Nicara's head felt heavy and throbbing. She opened her eyes to find herself in her own room and bed. While trying to recall last night's events, she heard a small groan. It sounded so close, as if right beside her. Then she felt the bed shift and realized there was an arm hanging loosely around her waist. She froze. Someone was in the bed with her, so she did the first thing she could think of. Scream.

"AHHH!" she screeched, the body beside her reacted immediately, rolling off the bed.

"What the fuck was that for?" Grimmjow shouted, picking himself off the floor, sending a murderous glare in Nicara's direction.

"What are you doing in my bed?"

"You don't remember?"

Nicara shook her head, pulling the blankets against her body. "No, should I?"

"You got drunk and I had to take you home," He said, making his explanation short and simple.

A thought occurred in her head. If both her and Grimmjow were drunk last night, and now they were in the same bed, clothes half undone... "Wait, nothing happened right? We didn't..." she trailed off, thinking the worst.

"I'm sure your legs would be sore if we did," he half joked.

Nicara didn't laugh, her face just stayed serious. "Then why were you in my bed?" she questioned once more.

Grimmjow sighed. "You were drunk so I put you in bed, but you wouldn't let go of my shirt, so I ended up staying the night. Happy now?"

"Oh, sorry I accused you."

"You thought I would actually touch you?" he asked, sounding a little hurt.

"Course not," Nicara answered sourly, "Cause soul society would kill you."

Grimmjow shook his head, upset Nicara would think so lowly of him. "I have some honor in me you know. I may not be a chivalrous man, but I don't rape innocent women."

Grimmjow may have been a rude, sadistic, violent, power hungry guy, but he wasn't a liar or a cheater. He liked to play everything fair game. Once again Nicara felt guilty of accusing him, she should have known better. "Sorry, " she apologized again.

Grimmjow was off to another club again. He wasn't an alcoholic, but he wanted to leave the house and get his mind off Nicara. Recently, he had been getting this funny feeling inside his stomach whenever he was near her. He didn't like the sensation one bit. It made him feel sick, and queasy. Never in his life did he have this problem. It was probably the dumb gigai acting up.

Walking into a club, Grimmjow was immediately greeted by several seductive females. They were mostly wearing a thong and a corset, which really didn't cover much. Their breasts were huge and basically falling out of their top, showing every ounce of cleavage.

Two of the women latched on to his arms, pulling him to the nearest table, while the others served them drinks. The lights were flashing, and the music loud made it hard for Grimmjow to concentrate. Before he knew it, a pair of lips were nipping at his neck while she grinded against him, giving immediate pleasure. Now the woman was straddling him, letting him get an even better view of her cleavage.

Grimmjow just starred, but he didn't take much action. He had to admit, this woman, who he didn't even know the name of was fuckin' hot. However, she seemed so desperate, she was basically shoving her breasts into his face. He tried pushing her away, for he had another girl in his mind.

He still couldn't forget about the night Nicara kissed him.

Grimmjow stared at Nicara, wide eyed and shocked, as she kissed him. He had sex with many women before, but only kissed a few. Because kissing was for the purpose of love. Arrancars didn't love, they had no heart, so it was impossible for them to have such feelings. All the sex and kissing he'd ever experienced were for matting, lust, or to let out frustration.

Unlike Grimmjow, Nicara's eyes stayed closed. However, as the kiss went on, Grimmjow's eyes started to close and lean in as well. At first he thought of pushing her away, but the kiss itself was so sweet and gentle, making him greedy for more. Did he like Nicara? He admired her determined personality, and enjoyed being around her. She was fun to tease, and didn't piss him off like the shinigami. He respected her, but couldn't say he liked her. Not romantically at least.

The kiss lasted about ten seconds before Nicara pulled away, only to place her forehead against Grimmjow's chest.

"Forever and always," she whispered, snuggling in closer. She felt so warm, soft, and comforting.

Grimmjow felt like he was intruding her thoughts, her words weren't meant for him, they were for another man, who was no longer here to hear them. It wasn't his fault though, she was drunk and just ended up expressing the thing's that have been bottled up inside. The girl looked so fragile, almost sad. Something that needed protecting.

So that night, Grimmjow lay there, thinking of the days to come.

...

Nicara didn't have to work tonight and since Grimmjow was gone out drinking she decided to have some alone girl time. First, She took a nice long bubble bath. Turning the water until scorching hot, soaking in the bubbles for what seemed like hours. Her muscles nice and relaxed, only hopping out of the water when her skin started to wrinkle. Wrinkly skin was not something she enjoyed, but for today it was worth it.

Next she painted her nails. Nicara was never the type of person to get manicures or pedicures. She liked the look of her natural nails. Also with work and chores, her nails would easily get chipped, so she didn't bother with nail polish. But sometimes it was still fun to test out all the different colors and patterns. She'd remove it by the end of the day.

Then came the selfies. She took countless photo's of herself wearing different outfits. Again, she didn't do this often, but it was fun to let her girly side out once in a while. Most girls would do this with several close friends, but she didn't have any. Her closest friend right now was probably Orihime. Nonetheless, she was fine by herself, she was use to it now.

Finally she watched a couple of chick flicks that she didn't dare watch in front of Grimmjow. Grimmjow, being the man he was, would not tolerate with cheesy romance movies or crying. Therefore, he banned Nicara from ever watching those types of movies as long as he was at home. At the time, she was going ague with him. It was her house, so she could do anything she wanted. However, it was a reasonable request, so she complied.

She eventually fell asleep on the couch and woke up when she heard her phone beep. It was a text from Grimmjow. It said:

Getting a ride home, what's the address?

It was already three AM in the morning, Nicara was surprised he was even bothering to come home. Not only that, but he didn't know their address? Probably because he just memorize his way rather than the street names. Nonetheless she texted him their house address.

About thirty minutes later, Nicara heard Ari barking along with a car pulling in outside the driveway.

"Shush Ari," she muttered, getting her dog to quiet down. She didn't want the neighbors complaining.

There was a small knock on the door. Did Grimmjow lose his keys? She waited for a second set of knocks before answering.

Outside her front porch was not only a drunk, passed out Grimmjow, but also a very pretty, yet slutty looking woman. Dressed up in five inch heals, she was wearing a long black fur jacket that went down to her knees. The jacket, however, was wide open, revealing a dainty little corset and lacy thong. The woman was either very confident about her body, or had no shame.

"You're not his girlfriend, are you?" she questioned with a smug face.

"Uh, no, Grimmjow just lives with me," Nicara answered, ignoring the woman's rude attitude.

"Good, I didn't think so," she smirked, eyeing Nicara's body.

What's that suppose to mean? Nicara's body was nothing compared to the woman. Her breasts must have been at least a D cup, while her own were merely a full A cup.

Nicara's thoughts turned back to the woman when she started to pass Grimmjow over. He was heavier and taller than her, so it was hard to get a good grip on him.

Before Nicara closed the door, the woman took out a slip of paper from her chest and handed it to her. "When he wakes up tell him to call me cause I had a great night." And with that the Woman left, driving away in her car.

Nicara took a look at the paper, scribbled in black ink was a phone number. Beside the numbers were a heart and the words 'call me.' She couldn't believe Grimmjow was actually interested in women like her. Couldn't he tell she was a slut, and using him for pleasure? That is unless he was using the women for sex as well. Grimmjow wasn't like that, was he? Either way his personal life wasn't any of her business, so she crumbled up the paper and slipped it into his pocket. Maybe he'd find it there, hopefully not.

Grimmjow was leaning his head against Nicara's shoulder with his mouth half open, good thing he wasn't drooling. The smell of liquor though, was still present through his every breath.

With great difficulty, Nicara got Grimmjow to his room. She was trying to set him on the bed, but somehow his weight shifted, causing her to fall back against the bed with him on top. In a normal situation she would probably scream and call him a pervert, but it wasn't his fault, he wasn't even awake. Waking him up would only make it more awkward, so it was best to keep it to herself.

For several minutes Nicara tried to get out from under Grimmjow, but it was no use. He was dead weight. She felt so uncomfortable with the current position they were in. That's when he began to bury his head in the crook of her neck and sniff her. She started blushing. What was he doing?

He took a big whiff before muttering, "You smell so familiar." What? I thought he was asleep.

The bed shifted. He was no longer lying on top of Nicara anymore, but hovering above her. Opening his eyes, he made eye contact and held her there. She was frozen by those piercing azure eyes. His eyes flickered from her own to her lips. That's when he started to lean in, inch by inch, getting closer.

"What are you doing?" Nicara blurted out, breaking the silence. She didn't know what was happening. Was he about to kiss her? It sure seemed like it. Anyhow, she wasn't ready to be in a relationship with Grimmjow. They were friends now, but nothing more. Because they lived together, a relationship in between the friend and dating stage would make things very awkward.

Caught off guard, Grimmjow stopped and pushed himself up so he was now sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Nothing," he finally answered, looking away from Nicara.

She cocked her head, confused with Grimmjow's reaction. "Still drunk?" she questioned as she sat up.

"Yeah," he simply agreed, not wanting to come up with a better reason for his behavior.

"Well then, I'll let you sleep. Good Night!" She closed the door behind her as she left.

As soon as she was gone, Grimmjow collapsed on the bed with a loud sigh. What was he doing? She smelt so fuckin' good, almost intoxicating. Maybe he was still a little drunk, but he wanted so badly to kiss those tender, pink lips of hers. He couldn't get the girl out of his mind and it was starting to annoy him. Why her? Why a weak little human? Either way there was something wrong with him and he was going to find out sooner or later.