Written for Psycho-Neurotically Disturbed for the interesting pairing and the marshmallows. I love you and I owe you for Kira x Kenpachi
This is tiresome. I spend upwards of ten minutes melting this slab of brown for my white haired princess and what thanks do I get? Just another couple of minutes of energy exerted in wrestling him back to our shared bed. The soul suppressing restraints ruin the image of contentment I strive for and yet the frown over those angry brown eyes is hardly a picture of relaxation either. I sigh. This is not what I wanted.
I had my pick of them all and I stand by the fact that I made the best choice. He sleeps a lot, for one thing, and that fits in well with my own habits. Snuggling up to his slim frame at every opportunity as we sleep the long hours of our lives away...that is very nice and my favourite activity.
The soft silkiness of his hair is the best pillow, and those coughing fits serve as small awakenings to my rest, and make my slip into deeper sleep all the more pleasant.
His restless shifting as he murmurs the name of a deceased captain I do not know...is not...so pleasant...but I have made enquiries into that name he whimpers in his nightmares...and I am beginning to understand why he suffers so. I have gone to great efforts to please him past his freedom which cannot be granted. Accept it my white haired beauty, accept it and find peace. Of course I do not say these things, he would not appreciate them coming from one such as I.
He must eat though and I have again consumed my precious leisure time as I investigate his tastes by waiting outside the throne room, alongside a few of my brothers and sisters who also crave a boon with our Lord Aizen. I ask him directly and his response surprises me.
And now here I am slaving for the man who sits chained to the ring by my, no our, futon, his eyes angrily glaring as I thoroughly heat the mixture in the clay bowl over the small flame.
I drag the clear bag containing the soft squishy treats called marshmallows over by my side and as instructed by Orihime, who was most kind in instructing me in the use of this confectionary, I pierce the white and pink cubes with thin sticks of polished wood, and leave them by my side as I allow the chocolate? To cool. It would not do to burn his pretty mouth. It would not help our relations.
I open my mouth to speak only to close it. Words are such tiresome things. Would he listen?
My back to the destitute man I pull the pink haori from out of my white robe and hold the blood stained fabric for a moment. It smells of death and sake and rosewater. Which smell will he notice most? I hope for the latter as I slightly turn and hold the cloth out before him.
The colour in his eyes is immediately diluted as a clear liquid sheens his irises, only for my white haired princess to reign in his emotion before the water reaches the banks. He is resolute and yet pitiful as with the accompanying clank of metal, he holds out one shaking hand.
I oblige him and let the cloth fall into his fingers which immediately tighten as he brings the fabric close to his face, his head now bowed as that magnificent hair of his acts as a shroud to hide him from me.
I turn back to the cooling chocolate and hope that my gesture will be taken in the manner intended. I hope he will soon eat of his own volition. I hope he will begin to cooperate to spare us both the wasted energy. I yawn widely. It has been a long day and my mind screams for the silence of slumber. It also screams for the man behind me to find peace in that small article of clothing.