He has to wonder how time flows so fast when he's in her proximity. Time is usually like mud, slow and sticky, when he moves without her. He doesn't remember it being like this before she barged into his life and ran him through with her sword but now she's a staple of his life, moments spent apart feel horrendously slow whilst time spent together feels all too quick and fleeting.

That's not to say he doesn't enjoy the time without her; Renji, Chad, Orihime, everyone. They still make him laugh, make him mad, make him forever thankful such people are in his life. It's not like he's absolutely miserable, he's not. It's just that these moments seem a lot slower than the laughter he shares with her, the hidden glances and private half-smiles they reserve only for each other. They speed by him with such speed sometimes he wondered if that brush of the back of his hand was real, or that wink and half-smile was just wishful thinking.

God, he was so fucked for Rukia Kuchiki.

He doesn't know when or why or how it happened but something shifted in the air between them; one day, everything seemed more...electrical. Suddenly, they were dancing around each other, with eyes that lingered too long for just friends and hands that brushed too often to be just friends .

Ichigo thinks it begins to come to a head in school. It's pure chance or maybe, for once in his fucking crazy life fate is on his side. School corridors are busy and bustling and its not uncommon for people to be knocked by shoulders and shoved aside. Usually, these knocks didn't do much than jostle him; any idiot stupid enough to try knock him on purpose usually bounced off of him and into their friends. Perks of being tall.

But today, today Ichigo just wasn't on the ball. Rukia's at his side, the two of them lingering behind the others and their words are normal enough. It's the usual banter between them, lighting quick and full of wit but Rukia's fingers are in near constant contact with his, his eyes can't seem to draw themselves away from her lips and-

-And some fuckwit naturally knocks Ichigo and he staggers into Rukia. The pair of them are sent staggering into a wall, cursing as Ichigo's hands come up to steady himself. Between them...

Oh. She's close.

Her hands are fisted in his shirt to keep her from falling and he's inadvertently trapped her between him and the wall. The way she's looking up at him, soft and surprised, does no favours for Ichigo's heart rate and when her breath hitches and stunning eyes land on his lips, Ichigo's damn sure he's gonna need his dad to prescribe some heart medication for him.

Without meaning to, he's leaning down, brain not really functioning as he tilts his head, one hand coming to lightly brush her cheek and...

'Oi! Hurry up you two!' They jump apart quickly, looking anywhere but at each other, bright red. Ishida's smirking, like he knows exactly what he's just interrupted and Ichigo's seriously contemplating murder. It's fortunate for the Quincy that the corridor is crowded and Zangetsu isn't on his back outside of his Soul Reaper form.

He doesn't focus for the rest of the day. Multiple times he catches himself reading the same sentence twice, writing the same word two or three times because his body is on autopilot while his brain's still recovering.

In the back of his mind, he swears he feels Zangetsu's amusement.

She is not faring much better , he whispered to him and Ichigo looked at where she sat. She was staring out the window, paper in front of her forgotten as a thumb pulled at her lips while her eyes looked glossy and spaced out.

She would kiss you back you know.

Uh...was his sword trying to play wingman for him?

She stops the rain. I despise being wet.

His sword was trying to play wingman for him. Jesus.

Walking home was an awkward affair, filled with lots of quick glances, mouths opening then closing before anything came out, hands tightly controlled and kept to their sides. Ichigo's sure the colour of his face begins to resemble his hair.

Pull yourself together man . He's not sure if it's Zangestu or himself that thinks this but as he turns to open his mouth to say something (Just what he was about to say, he didn't know), there's a beeping from Rukia's pocket and they're off again to stop the Hollow.

Fighting, Ichigo thinks, is an excellent way to burn off tension and give his brain a break from the sweet assault that was Rukia Kuchiki.

Duck , Zangetsu prompts him almost lazily, at the same time Rukia shouts the same at him. He complies, spins with his momentum and slashes and the beast is gone. You are far too distracted Ichigo. Kindly kiss the lady and have this mess done with before it gets us killed.

'Shut it, old man.' He hisses between his teeth as he shoulders the blade. Zangetsu isn't the type to roll his eyes, but Ichigo certainly feels the sentiment from him.

Usually, sleeping after a Hollow fight is easy business. The exertion, the adrenaline drop is usually a sound remedy to send him to sleep. Not tonight though.

He had laid in bed and Rukia had laid in her place in the closet with whispered 'Goodnight's at the same time. Tossing and turning this way and that, thinking of her lips, her eyes, her laugh and smile seemed to be the order of the night. It was infuriatingly addictive, getting lost in thoughts of her.

It's with a reckless abandon and steely resolve ( Finally, Zangestu mutters with a hint of pride in his voice) that Ichigo leaves his bed, approaches the closet. He can hear the muffled movements of blankets as she too tosses and turns; it's a small comfort to him that he is not the only one.

He's not quite sure what to do when he's stood in front of her closet. (Her closet-When had it become her closet?) Should he knock? Just open it? Leave a note or some shit?

Knock you fool.

Zangetsu's a cranky old wingman, but a good one nonetheless.

It's unnecessary however; as Ichigo raises his hand to knock the closet door opens and Rukia slides out nimbly and quickly as if taken by some kind of resolve that would burn out quickly if she did not move fast.

She's taken by surprise though and halts; it's almost a mirror of their earlier situation, Rukia pinned between Ichigo and the closet behind her.

'Oh. Ichigo?'

'...I...uh, I-'

Kiss her you fool, your words are useless

'Listen, Ichigo, I-' She's swiftly cut off as he steps in, closing the distance, and places both hands on her cheeks. He leans in fast but the press of his lips against hers are soft, gentle and sweet and Ichigo wonders why he didn't do this earlier; this is wonderful. It takes Rukia a second to respond but when she does, Ichigo's sure he could do this for eons and never get bored of it.

It's a slow, sweet, unhurried first kiss in the middle of the night; time stretches slow and sweet like honey and Ichigo savours every second of it, pushing Rukia against the closet as her hands come to rest at his waist. When they break apart, it's with great reluctance, driven by that pesky need to breathe. It's a few seconds for Ichigo to let his eyes roam freely, unabashedly; taking in her messy hair, flushed face, shoulders moving in time with her ragged breathing. This time, it's Rukia that presses her lips against his, carding her fingers through his hair to drag him down gently into a more heated kiss that was still just as slow and unhurried but somehow many times more passionate.

It's a considerably longer time until they break apart again, with ragged breathing and heavy, lidded eyes.

'Well then... That was something .' As usual, his words ruin any grace the moment has. Ichigo doesn't much care though, it makes her laugh, kiss his cheek lightly and push him away playfully. It's been five minutes and already, it feels like they've been doing this for years, in the best way possible.

God, he was so fucked for Rukia Kuchiki.