Pairing: Grimmjow and Neliel
Blood and Purity
Golden eyes of purity bore into the back of his head. If he turned his head to meet the eyes, he might have been a little frightened by their savage intensity.
For some reason, she chose to focus her gaze at the back of his head, eyes boring through blue-green locks as though trying to see straight through his head.
Grimmjow went unaware of the fact that Neliel's gaze was fixated on him. He would not have understood it if he knew.
He did know that she was there. He chose to ignore her. She was insignificant, and she meant nothing to him. Perhaps she was a means to gain more power, but he simply was not interested in fighting her, nor the thought of gaining more power. Even if she had been an espada once, he still was not interested, for he felt that he could snap her neck with a simple flick of his wrist.
He was the king, after all.
Neliel could not remember ever having been so angry. She was not sure why the blue-haired being made her so angry, but it had to be something to do with the fact that he was ignoring her.
Even if she insulted him, it bounced off of him and echoed right back in her ears. She could not faze him, and it was irritating.
She wanted him to want to kill her. She wanted his anger, his rebellion. She wanted nothing more for him to act exactly like Nnoitora.
Her former lanky espada interest had been killed. She was not sure why she had not been killed, or why Grimmjow had not been.
Grimmjow acted like Grimmjow. There was no changing his personality, no matter how much she wanted it. She supposed it was nothing she needed, but it would certainly make her feel more at home with the blue haired former espada.
She was annoyed that she did not anger Grimmjow. He did not lust for power, nor did he lust for her. She hated the fact that she could get nothing she wanted from him, and yet, for some reason, she liked it.
It was yet another form of masochism waiting to be discovered. She could hurt herself by following Grimmjow.
He sat still, staring off into empty distances that Neliel could not reach. His mind was far away, his ears closed to her insults for the time being. Sometimes he decided to respond to her, but it was rare.
He could care less about her pointless speaking, but she continued to do it, even though he was a complete stonewall.
At least, he tried to be.
Sometimes, her words stung him, digging into things she should never have thought of. He knew it was just to provoke a response out of him, after all, he was no idiot, but he could not help but respond to her feeble attempts at angering him.
She was not worth wasting energy over, nor risking injury for. Since she was the former tricero, she could fend for herself. If she fucked up, it wasn't Grimmjow's problem anymore.
It wasn't his problem to begin with. Still, he had the feeling he'd miss her a little if she up and disappeared.
Then again, if she disappeared, he would no longer have to listen to her preaching, and complaining, and general irritation.
She found herself enjoying the lines of Grimmjow's body. It was almost too thin, too muscular, and had the slightest of curves, and that was why she liked it. He was flawed, but perfect all at once. It was irritating to her, and it angered her, but that was the reason she liked his body.
She imagined his legs to be free of hair, muscular and well shaped, almost like a lady's. She liked to imagine him wearing a skirt, or a dress, and actually looking good in it. Sometimes she wondered if it was wrong of her to do such things, but she decided she did not care.
His hips were slightly wider than the average male's, but not noticeably, and she liked that, too. For some reason, she liked his barely distinguishable feminine qualities more than his masculine ones. She contemplated bringing that to light simply to irritate him, but decided against it. She wanted something deeper, something that would last longer.
For Nnoitora, it had been his weakness. He was a being who craved power, but she could not tell what Grimmjow craved. It had to be something to do with the endless cycle of battles, but for whatever mysterious reason, he would not fight her.
She wanted him to try. She wanted to explain to him numerous times just how much weaker than her he was, and how he could never hope to defeat her.
She wanted Nnoitora. She had, instead, received Grimmjow.
It was something she would have to put up with, but she wanted him to try and try to end her. Strangely enough, he was of a stronger mindset. She would not be crumbling his psyche into the dust she had reduced Nnoitora's into. She had been able to build Nnoitora into something else, but Grimmjow could not be reduced.
Grimmjow was tired. Not necessarily of Neliel, but of her pointless chatter. He figured there was possibly something beneath that fluff, but he could not tell what it was. He was irritated by that in the slightest, but did not give enough of a damn to pursue it.
Well, perhaps he did give a damn, but he had not yet decided the best way to go about cracking Neliel's brittle shell. It was tough to think of it, but remaining silent was not going to work.
"Why must you constantly ignore me?" Neliel demanded one day, finally questioning Grimmjow's silence.
"Your words are fucking pointless. I don't know why the hell I have to put up with this bullshit."
Neliel remained silent for a while, thinking over her words carefully. Strangely, she did not want to speak. She wanted to be the one who remained wordless.
"What's wrong? Can't think of anything?" Grimmjow leered down at her. She stepped closer, her face inches from his.
"I could think of many things." She narrowed her eyes at him. "However, I care not to at this time." She continued to glare into his eyes, wondering that he had not yet made any sort of advance on her. If it were Nnoitora, his tongue would be halfway down her throat.
It was not, and with a huff, she pulled away. Grimmjow scoffed. "Che."
Women. He would never understand them. Especially not the one named Neliel. She was complex, and difficult. He had never known anyone like her, and he was not so sure he liked her. He was not so sure he hated her, either.
Either way, his feelings for her were annoying.
Her hair swished down her back as she walked away, and though her body was well covered by her uniform, he could see that her movements were short and choppy. She was not happy. He could care less. For reasons he could not understand, he wanted to follow her, so he gave in.
There were still many things he needed to know about her before he could leave her, or let her leave.
He stopped her by clasping a strong hand on her shoulder and forcefully turning her around. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" he demanded fiercely. She looked up at him from beneath the shade of her skull mask's teeth.
"Since when did you begin caring about matters such as that?" she asked coolly. He growled softly in frustration.
"The hell did you get so angry for?" he demanded, and she tilted her head downward slightly so he could no longer see her eyes.
"It doesn't matter." She insisted.
"What if it does?" he gave her a light shake, and her hands were tightening on his shoulders in the next moment.
"It doesn't matter, I said." She said in a firm tone. There was no way that she was going to tell him that she had wanted him to kiss her. She was not even sure why the notion had entered her brain; it was unlike her.
She turned her face away from Grimmjow, seeking the distance he had sought before, her hands falling uselessly to her sides. His hand still gripped her shoulder, but she ignored it successfully. She wanted nothing more than to let go of the past she had let go of before. She did not care for Nnoitora, or at least that was what she told herself.
Lately, she was finding it harder and harder to believe.
"Where the fuck are you?" she heard Grimmjow's voice somewhere near her, and it was then that she felt his slender fingers cutting off the circulation of her entire arm.
"Nowhere near you, thankfully." Neliel smiled up at him, something he hadn't seen since—well, he couldn't remember. Maybe he'd caught a glimpse of one during her fight with Nnoitora—but he had been pretty out of it.
"Thanks." He rolled his eyes, his hand gripping her skull mask and pulling her face back so that he could get a better look. "You're not so bad to look at, actually." He mused, giving her a critical inspection.
"Like your opinion matters to me." She spat, indignant at the fact that he was controlling her head. She folded her arms across her chest, half-tempted to box his ears in retaliation. That would take him down a peg or two.
"Sure." He scoffed, bringing her face closer to his, the teeth of her mask pressing into his forehead, though their eyes met. "What the hell do you want?" he demanded, and she closed the gap between their lips, biting on his bottom one fiercely.
He thrust her away from him, his hand moving to his bleeding lip immediately, glowering at her look of smug satisfaction. "That's what you get for holding me so close. If you would have kissed me, I might have considered returning." She said with a shrug.
"Fuck you." Grimmjow glared at her, while she merely took on an innocent expression.
She turned on her heel and walked away, noting that it took longer than before for her to hear Grimmjow's footsteps behind her. She shook her head, her chin and shoulders held high as she walked for a while. She stopped somewhere in the desert, sitting upon the sand and staring up at the crescent moon. She tried to look away, but it caught her eye.
"You're fucking weird." Grimmjow muttered as he sat beside her.
"It was your choice to follow me. Since when are we friends?" she asked mildly.
"I didn't think we were."
"So why are you following me?" Neliel looked over him curiously.
"I'm trying to figure you the hell out."
Neliel rested a hand on his knee, leaning in close as though she were going to kiss him. "Good luck." She whispered into his lips, pulling back quickly. She was not easy to figure out, and she knew it herself. She was complex.
Grimmjow took on a faraway, disenchanted look. Neliel slowly moved closer, not sure why she did so herself. She told herself it was to mess with his head, but she knew that it was for a different, deeper reason. She wanted him to kiss her; she wanted to hold him. She wanted nothing more than to fling her arms about him with wild abandon.
She hated the feeling, personally, but she could not deny it. Without alerting Grimmjow, her arms had wrapped around him, and she had her face pressed into his neck. She was not sure how he did not notice it, but she could care less.
"What the fuck?"
She almost laughed, but instead made a pathetic hitching sound deep within her throat. For some unknown reason, Grimmjow was compelled to wrap his arms around her in turn, his chin resting lightly atop her skull mask. It was uncomfortable, but he did not mind so much.
He had never known that a woman's embrace could be so warm and so comforting.
Neliel had never known that hugging Grimmjow would almost be like hugging Ichigo. She was comforted and she was happy that he was alive. There was no reason for him to be dead, but she no longer wished for it. Then again, she never had wished for it.
She no longer wished for Grimmjow to be a replacement Nnoitora. She wished for him to be Grimmjow. She wished for him to be the Grimmjow who would hold her, and let her hold him.
"I think I like this." She admitted softly, glad that her face was hidden.
"Whatever." Grimmjow's voice was far more relaxed than usual. It was closer, and it made her feel more at home.
"I really don't care what you think." She murmured sleepily, and Grimmjow sighed.
"For fuck's sake, don't you dare fall asleep in my arms." He growled.
"I guess you're not into spooning." Neliel feigned depression.
"Get the fuck off of me." He pushed her away, and she curled up in the sand.
He didn't realize he was pressing up against her for warmth until he felt his arm snake around her waist to pull her closer.
What he did realize was that he did not mind having Neliel for an arrancar-sized, personal heater.
(Umm...should I write more? It's such a tease, don't you think?)