So... This wasn't weird at all.
I told Orihime I'd stay for dinner after she whined and complained about Ichigo's behavior, apologized; 'things like that never happen, yadda yadda yadda'. But to be perfectly honest, I wasn't planning on putting up much of a fight to get outta there. Things were just getting too interesting.
But now? Now I was having second thoughts.
The man that now sat across from me was making me beyond uncomfortable, which was quite a feat, considering...well, it was me. Sure, I myself enjoyed the game he was playing. Intimidation was great...as long as you were the intimidator. He has his ugly, squinty eyes focused on me, and it seemed like he'd never been taught common courtesy; when I looked up he kept right on staring.
I dug my fingernails into the wood underneath the table and set my jaw. I was seconds from leaping across the table and digging straight through his throat instead when Orihime cleared her throat subtley.
"Chi-chi," He didn't budge as she spoke. "Maybe we should eat."
"Tell your brother that, Orihime. We won't be starting without him."
She looked down at her lap dejectedly. We'd been sitting here long enough as it was, dammit. I was hungry. Yeah, I could see that it was some Japanese shit in front of me; something fishy and lots of rice, but at this point I didn't care. It was food, and I wasn't going to wait much longer.
In fact, I wasn't going to wait any longer at all.
"Excuse me." I grumbled, pushing away from the table, wooden chair almost snagging the mats underneath it. Western and Japanese things never mixed well; these fugly rugs weren't made to support more than a cushion and the heavy chairs were practically ruining the fabric as well as I would have if left to my own devices.
That little bitch was still upstairs, probably crying about having a penis that he didn't know how to use. So, I tromped up the steps, not really knowing my way around and not much caring either. I stuck my head in the first door I came to; nauseating. Pink and bunnies and rainbows everywhere... and firecrotch nowhere in sight. Next.
A bathroom, complete with a reasonably-sized shower. Good to know.
There was only one room left, so now it was inevitable.
"Drumroll please... and behind lovely door number three we haveee..." I opened the door quickly to make sure he had no time to lock it, but he hadn't even looked up. He was perched up on his bed, scowling at his bandage-wrapped feet. The blood had soaked through by this point, and the way they were wrapped, the bandages weren't doing any good to begin with.
"Shit, Kurosaki. I'm hungry. Can't you tell your feet to stop bleeding until after dinner?"
He wouldn't acknowledge that I'd entered the room, but I wasn't as pissed off as I normally was when someone ignored me. Those feet looked like they hurt.
I plopped on the other side of his mattress, facing him, and I was sure I saw his face tense just a tiny bit at the lack of personal space when I examined the bandages closer.
"Those look like a three year old tied them up."
There was nothing but silence from his end.
I sighed, giving up on making him speak and started to unwrap the gauzy material.
His furious eyes flew to my face for the first time since he'd threatened me back in the kitchen, but I wasn't going to give up that easy, regardless of how much flaming death was aimed straight at my handsome face. He seemed to sense this and went back to staring at his feet, sulking like a little girl.
I stopped unwrapping about halfway through and hopped off the bed, managing to find a new roll of gauze and tape on his desk. I settled my self back in place again and had to brush his hand away from trying to grab at what was in my hands. He scowled even more as I pulled him by the ankles so his feet were in my lap.
"When did you hop off your high horse and decide to be nice?" He refused to look at me as he muttered unappreciatively at his knees, and a wry smile crept onto my lips.
"Who says I'm not nice?"
"I've known you two hours," he snapped. "And I can already tell what a messed up psycho you are. Don't fuck around with me."
But fucking with you is so much fun.
The cloth was soaked through with dried blood, brown after sitting for an hour or so. Absolutely gross, in my expert opinion, but nothing compared to what was underneath it. I had it all unwrapped but the last layer, and I could feel the warm wetness of fresh blood on my fingertips.
"So you're into psychos, huh?" I teased, trying to keep my mind off what was in front of me. "Kinda weird, Strawberry."
He scrunched up his nose in disgust and tried to pull a leg away, but a firm grip on his ankle and a generally non-threatening glance from me and he relaxed it again, letting his heel fall to my lap with an uncomfortable thud.
I pulled off the last layer, and behold! The gore!
"You know," I swallowed thickly, trying to keep a hold on my stomach. "You'd prolly have some real nice Cinderelly feet if it weren't fer all this hamburger." I lifted his foot up for emphasis, and he made yet another sickened expression. I wondered how many of those faces he had hidden in there.
After bravely extracting a few pieces of missed glass that could've easily caused the continuous bleeding by themselves, I wrapped up one foot, then the other. By now he was just leaning his head against the headboard, leaving his feet sit on top of my folded legs. I felt like a stupid girl, but it felt good just to be touching him.
"Thank you." He mumbled, breaking the silence.
"Still hurts?" I asked, the faintest idea brewing inside my head.
"Well, yeah. New bandages aren't going to fix that."
"No." I agreed. "But I know something that might." I crawled over him, going out of my fucking way not to bump his girly-ass feet, but the little bastard caught me off guard and shoved me hard enough that I landed on my ass between his outstretched legs. I got a good hold around his knees and pulled him toward me until his impossibly long legs were wrapped around me and hung off the end of the bed behind us. His breath was speeding up, and his spread fingered hands tried to push me away, but I caught them and held them midair on either side of that pretty face of his.
And then I kissed him.
It wasn't rape or anything, just a little peck. It could've been a kid kissing his mom. He didn't scream or curse or even crinkle up his freckley nose in another mask of disgust like I expected him to; he just sat there, in shock I guess, his mouth open a bit and his eyes wide enough I could see those faggy little sparkles again, making me loose my head. God, he tasted so fucking delicious I wanted to eat him right then and there.
I laughed, but the sound was uncomfortable.
"C'mon kid, I'm honestly starving." I stood up and put some distance between us before he could explode in my face; before I could skip dinner and go straight for dessert. To be honest, I'd never had much control when I wanted something badly enough.
I had to drag us both downstairs. My body wasn't willing enough by itself, but with him as extra baggage I was tempted to just follow my instincts, drag him to a secluded area, and devour him whole.
I didn't though. I sat back down at that God-forsaken table and muttered "Thank you for the meal," just like everyone else. My body was twitching with two types of hunger now, and just as I had a big, nasty wad of God-Knows-What halfway to my mouth, the front door burst open noisily.
"Fick mich," I grit out to myself. The Berry glanced at me sideways before setting his fork down with a gentle grace and stood up politely.
Right, I should've stopped eating, because that's the polite thing to do. But this family was killing me; I was so fucking starving by this point. I shoved four or five forkfuls of food straight into my mouth before anyone could stop me, and the new addition made their way around the corner and into view as I stood up.
I almost spat out the entirety of what had just entered my mouth, but managed to just choke on it.
"Welcome home, Mom." Ichigo recited, ignoring my struggle with an almost wry set to his mouth.
Mother of God, what kind of family was this?
Oooh, cliffhanger! Who's the mommy? :3