Crikey! You guys made my day with the lovely reviews you sent me for chapter four =D
Thanks much for following this story ^^
This chapter will be a short little one in Shiro's P.O.V, just a little drabble really=) I wanted to conclude the story nicely.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Bleach.
WARNING: MAJOR FLUFF. Ew.
Life with Ichigo was...truly blissful. Sure, Shiro admitted that they had their rough patches, but by God, did they have their highs. Like that time in the car park outside the Italian restaurant. Good times. The albino couldn't have been happier, as he lay there curled up with Ichigo on his bed. They did that a lot; the redhead loved feeling warm and comfortable, even in the searing heat of the summer. It had been two years since Shirosaki had parted with his world, leaving the dissolving sideways-cityscape behind to disappear completely.
The best damn two years of his life.
He smiled into Ichigo's hair and inhaled. He smelled the shampoo that Ichigo used. He smelled the wood-burning fire that his father had installed last winter. He smelled the fumes of the cars, the frying of onions, and coffee. Normally if these things were mixed together, Shirosaki would have gagged. Except he didn't, because this was Ichigo, and nothing smelled better to him than Ichigo did. Not fresh strawberries and cream, or even hot chocolate. It sounded quite cheesy really, but Ichigo was perfect.
"Damn this stupid hair! I can't do anything with it! It's a fucking mess!"
Shiro tugged at his hair as he looked at the spiky mess in the mirror. He was supposed to be taking the berry out tonight, but he wanted to at least look presentable. When it had dwindled down to adding lashings of wax to make it look purposefully messy, said berry walked into the room whilst Shirosaki was having a full-blown panic attack.
"Shiro, don't worry about your hair. It looks fine."
The pale man turned to Ichigo, vexed. He wasn't usually one to worry about looks-that was for girls, but tonight he was going to make an effort.
He nodded reassuringly. "Yeah, really." The smaller of the two walked to where Shiro stood and stroked his hair. "It's beautiful. Kind of like...lingering light."
Of course, Shiro could only smile about what they got up to that evening. Ichigo stirred in his arms slightly, before waking and leaning over to give the man a chaste, but meaningful kiss.
"What are you thinking about?"
Shirosaki grinned, but replied honestly.
"How much I actually owe your Mother."
WOAHHHH. Fluff galore. Wasn't really expecting that...it just kinda...came out. I think it's because I'm listening to soppy love music and talking to my boyfriend ~~ SO NOW YOU CAN ALL FEEL MY LUVVY-DUVVY WRATH (BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA) Oh dear, I'm writing more here than I actually wrote in the frigging story. ¬¬'
End of Lingering Light =D Please review blah blah
Keep an eye out for my next fics!