Disclaimer: I do not use big words and I do not own Bleach. Also, I do not have beta reader.
Grimmjow blinks the light away. His head feels heavy. He does not need to look in a mirror to be aware of how grotesque his face must be with all the bruises. He can barely open his left eye because of the swelling. He is sure his wild bed cobalt hair does nothing to improve his appearances.
He looks around to take in his surrounding. He knows he is in someone else’s apartment but it is not a typical house. Grimmjow is not even sure if he can call this place a home for someone. The only furniture in the apartment is a single bed with white bed sheet and one pillow, also white. It is where he is lying at the moment. There is no chair or table, much less a television. There is not even a room. This place simply lacks soul.
“You are awake,” says a female voice from where Grimmjow assumes is the kitchen since a refrigerator is located at the corner. There are no other kitchen’s appliances around either. Grimmjow strains his neck to see who his savior is. It was the girl from yesterday.
Was it yesterday? He is not sure how long has he been unconscious.
The kitchen by the way is situated right at the front door. The girl is taking off her shoes. She must have just comes back from somewhere.
The girl walks from the kitchen and into the living room where the bed is placed. She stands beside the bed, her eyes wandering to his pitiful figure. Grimmjow props up on his elbow. He winces at the pain that shot through his abdomen which forces him back on his back.
“You were screwed pretty badly by those dickheads. It would be best for you not to move around so much,” says the girl as she takes off her leather jacket before she proceeds to sit at the edge of the bed.
Grimmjow could not argue with her logic. He puts his hand over his face, covering his eyes from the light.
“How long have I been unconscious?”
“You have been sleeping all night. It is already noon now,” says the girl as she checks her wrist watch.
They stay quiet for a grand deal of time until Grimmjow could not take the silence any longer.
“Thank you,” murmurs Grimmjow, almost inaudible. He knows that he would have been dead if this girl did not show up last night. He owes her his life.
The girl does not say anything which makes him wonder if she heard him. He lifts his hand up a bit to peek at the girl. He immediately regrets doing so as the girl is staring at him with a knowing smile playing on her lips.
“Tch,” grumbles Grimmjow as he puts down his hand over his eyes again. He growls when he hears chuckles escaping from the girl’s mouth. Then he feels the springs of the bed creak, indicating that the girl has leave his side. Grimmjow puts his hand down. He does not know why and would not admit it to himself, but he misses her warmth.
“Where are you going?” Grimmjow asks before he can stop himself.
The girl stops walking and looks at him quizzically. Grimmjow hates that look she gives him.
“I am not obliges to answer your question, boy,” is the reply he gets. Boy?! That really pisses him off.
Grimmjow snickers. The girl tilts her head.
“What was so funny?”
“You are not older and definitely smaller than I am and yet you called me boy? That was some screwed up concept you have there.”
The girl smirks. “You do not know anything, boy. The truth will make you piss in your diapers.”
One of the things that Grimmjow cannot tolerate in his life is when he is being made fun of. He would not take this lying down (literally) so he struggles to sit up. The girl with her hands crossed in front of her chest just looks at him groaning and cursing from the soreness. She does not offer him any help. Grimmjow is panting by the time he leans his back on the bedstead and is shooting daggers at the girl. “Why don’t you try telling me the truth?”
“I told you I don’t owe you any explanation.”
“Indulge me, why don’t you?”
The girl looks at Grimmjow, clearly contemplating whether or not take up on his offer. Grimmjow does not back down as he keeps on glaring at the girl. After several minutes, the girl sighs in defeat.
Grimmjow sneers triumphantly.
“I am a least a hundred years older than you are,” the girl begins.
The sneer is replaced with an astound expression. Grimmjow blinks once, twice and for the third time before he snorts and starts to laugh out loud, holding his ribs to ease the pain. The girl just stares at him without moving a muscle. She has expected this kind of reaction. Nothing ever surprises her anymore.
“You are mental,” says Grimmjow. He has tears in his eyes. “Next thing I know, you are going to tell me that you brought me to this apartment all by your tiny self.”
The girl raises an eyebrow and tilts her head. “I did.”
Grimmjow could not hold back his laughter. He hoots. “Yeah, sure you did…”
The girl is clearly not amused by his sudden outburst if her pouting lips are any indicator but she remains silence, allowing Grimmjow to guffaw to his heart content.
“Are you done laughing?”
Grimmjow snorts a couple more times before he nods.
“I told you that you will be pissing in your diapers when you know the truth,” says the girl smugly.
“Jeebus, you are one delusional kid, don’t you know that?”
“I guess you were delusional as well when you imagined you saw me taking care of the three morons yesterday. You must be delusional if you thought I saved you from your premature death,” says the girl. There is no mistaking the sarcasm.
That shuts Grimmjow up. He recalls the event that took place last night. He did not imagining anything. He most definitely saw this girl single-handedly made a pulp out of those assholes.
He looks closely at the girl and studies her face. He can see now that she is not joking around. He searches the girl’s violet eyes and all of a sudden he feels fear creeping down his spine.
The girl smirks. She steps forward and like a flash she smacks Grimmjow’s forehead. Grimmjow yelps in pain. He can feel the pulsing from his swollen eyes.
“That is for laughing at me,” says the girl and then with one swift move, she fishes out an army knife from under her yukata. Grimmjow eyes widen in alarm.
“I forgot to mention one tiny little detail though,” the girl smirk has turn to a wide psychotic grin. “I have to kill you if I tell you the truth.”
Grimmjow alarm is turning into a full blown terror by now. He tries to run away but his body does not respond to his will. It is like his body is pinned down on the bed with some unknown forces. He does not know he is dealing with a psycho otherwise he would have kept his mouth shut!
“You could have told me that before you told me the truth!” shrieks Grimmjow.
The girl waves the knife and shakes her head. “But you would have thought that I am joking around and continue to laugh at me.”
The girl pouts sarcastically.
“But damn it, you could have chosen not to tell me anything!”
“Oh poo stop complaining. I just did what you tell me to. I am indulging you,” the grins on the girl’s lips get even more sinister. Before Grimmjow could retaliate, the girl leaps onto his lap and the knife is pointed under his chin, already drawing droplets of blood from the contact.
However despite the circumstances, he could not help but admire her unconventional beauty. She is even prettier up close. Her porcelain-like skin just makes her appears so vulnerable. He likes the bang that almost covers part of her face. It gives her an air of mystery. His eyes travel down to her legs. When she sits on his lap, her yukata is yanked up to her thighs, revealing her slender legs that are clamping both sides of his hips. He could not take his eyes off of them.
Grimmjow gulps. Fuck, he can feel himself getting a hard on so he tries to push the girl away. However the girl has such amazing strength, she does not even budge. Grimmjow questions her human-ness but that thought quickly fleeting from his mind as her eyes wander down on Grimmjow’s cobalt orbs. He is immediately mesmerized by the wisdom that sparkles in her violet eyes. Grimmjow wonders if she is probably telling him the truth. There is no way a teenage girl like her could have eyes like these. Eyes that is full of experience, which reflects the wretchedness of the world and the dismal veracity of human existence.
How exquisitely beautiful they are.
The girl snicker suspends Grimmjow delicious thoughts and he can guess why. She is sitting on his raging hard on. He could not stop the blushes that creep up on his cheeks. He forces his eyes to look away.
But the girl is not done tormenting him. She leans down on him; one of her hand travels up his chest. “What else do you want to know, boy? Allow me to further indulge you, just as you wish,” whispers the girl huskily to Grimmjow’s ear as she applies more pressure to the blade and slightly grinds herself on top of Grimmjow’s own predicament inside his suddenly tight jeans.
Grimmjow knows he is in a deep shit now. He shudders and closes his eyes. This is not how he pictured his dying moment would be like. But oddly enough he thinks it is not a bad way to die if it is by her hands.
That is when he hears her laughter. The cold blade is no longer against his neck and the grinding stops. He almost moans at the lost of contact. He opens his eyes slowly. The girl is having a blast laughing her ass off, which consequently rocking his whole aching body. Once again he feels like he could not tear his eyes away from looking up to her laughing face. He swallows hard knowing fully well that his erection has yet to subside. If anything it just gets even bigger.
Then without warning the girl leans down and gives him a chaste kiss on his lips.
“You are one funny kid, boy. I have not had such laugh for the longest time.” The girl wipes her tears away with the back of her hand that is still holding the army knife. The blade still has traces of his blood. “You should have looked at your face!”
Grimmjow is irate but all he could do is grunt his protest. He does not dare to say a single word as long as she still has that knife in her hand. Grimmjow draws his hand up his neck where the blade almost punctures a hole in it. He can feel the traces of clotted blood. He wipes it away with his hand as the girl watches his every move.
“It is good to know that something never changed. Boys these days are still as horny as they were back a hundred years ago,” teases the girl as she move away from Grimmjow’s lap and corrects her yukata. Grimmjow can feel the heat coming up to his cheeks once again.
“You were being serious about the whole thing, were you not?” inquires Grimmjow as to distract the girl’s focus from his flushing cheeks and the bulge in front of his pants.
The girl just nods. She allows the truth to sink in Grimmjow’s mind for real this time. However, the smirk stays on her lips, adorning her face which gives her an ominous look only she can pulls off. Conversely Grimmjow is having a hard time grasping the truth of her words. How could he when she looks exactly around his age if not younger? This just cannot be.
“How the fuck can that be? I mean how the fuck was that even possible?! Damn it, I… I need proof. Show me something that proves whatever you just said was not cock and bull,” demands Grimmjow. “How can I be sure that you are not pulling another one of your damn psychotic jokes on me?”
The girl slants her eyes towards Grimmjow menacingly. “Did you just call me crazy?”
Grimmjow gulps and shakes his head vigorously in negative.
The girl cackles at Grimmjow’s alarm face.
“Chill down, boy. I am not going to kill you. That would have waste my effort of saving your ass yesterday.”
But Grimmjow is not convinced. How can he be relaxed when the girl once again draws forth the army knife with her right hand?
Grimmjow looks at her with wide eyes as she straightens her left arm towards him with her wrist facing upwards. With one expeditious movement, she slits her own wrist and blood starts dripping to the floor.
“What the fuck were you doing?!” cries Grimmjow. He completely forgets about his pain as he bolts from the bed towards the girl. Without much thought and ignoring the pain that shot through his abdomen, he takes off his shirt and uses it to stop the bleeding. “Shit! How fucking crazy are you? We need to get you to a doctor!”
During Grimmjow panic attack, the girl just stands there without a care in the world as she watches him applies pressure to her slit wrist. His gestures and emotions amuse her to no end. She lets the knife falls to the floor with a clang. The droplets of blood have started to blacken and coagulate.
Grimmjow is still frantically trying to stop the bleeding when he notices that it has stopped. He quickly unwrap her wrist from his now bloody shirt to look at the wound.
“No fucking way…” gapes Grimmjow.
There is no sign of a slit wrist. No traces of the blade. No wound is visible. Except for the smear blood stains, the skin is as perfect as it was before.
Grimmjow dares himself to look up and stares into the girl’s violet orbs. “Just what the fuck are you?”
I apologize if Grimmjow is a bit OOC but I consider in his situation, he does not have a choice but to be submissive to Rukia.
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