Hey guys, this is my first attempt at this kind of fic; please show a little love? XD

I'll never forget how I met her. My saviour.

It was back in high school; she was a transfer student who joined in the final year.

I was just a mess. I'd lost my mom when I hit fifteen, and everything from there had been a downwards spiral. I'd lost control. Started drinking, smoking, taking drugs and going out with faceless, nameless sluts just for a quick high fuck.

She was perfect. Perfect grades, perfect skin, perfect, if not tiny, body. She was like the moon. Glowing with pale beauty, but so far out of my reach.

Maybe she was a machoist. She certainly wasn't a Christian. Either way, something in her; a part I wish now had never existed, took pity on me.

On that first day, when so many guys and so many girls came to introduce themselves to her, welcome her into their groups, she simply smiled and nodded; but then she came to my desk.

"My name is Rukia." She'd said softly. Her voice, just like her appearance, was hauntingly perfect to me. She reached in through the smoggy haze of drugs in my wrecked mind, and somehow got through. She didn't ask who I was; probably didn't need to. Instead, for the first time in a long time, I spoke to someone for reasons other than a high or a quickie.

"Ichigo." I'd replied. Even to me, my voice had sounded awful. Scratchy and hoarse with disuse, it was like I'd been throttled for hours.

And that was how it began. She talked to me like a real person. Not with the awful tones of pity or annoyance that other students or teachers would; heck even my family did. She spoke to me like I was just a regular guy.

And soon, I found myself wishing it were true. I started coming to school more often, just to speak to her. Sometimes, after class, we'd walk out to the nearby park and sit by the lake and just talk. Four hours on end, she'd tell me things about herself, but she never asked questions. She was my anti-drug. With her, I didn't need to get high, have booze-fuelled romps with whores. She was my pain and pleasure. Pleasure because she clearly saw something in me worth saving. Pain, because I feared she couldn't. Sometimes, we'd sit with our school books sprawled over the grass by our sides. She was helping me there too, tutoring me. My grades were slowly on the rise. I'd never be a doctor like my father had wanted, but I would be able to do something. To have a life.

Most of the time though, we just laid on the grass, side by side in silence as we watched the sun go down and the moon peek out from the clouds. Even then, in those blissfully peaceful moments though, I could still see the barriers in her amethyst eyes. And I didn't want them there. I wanted to know her; to really know her- body, mind and soul. She had become my very world so quickly, so easily. Even though I'd put up a wall of steel defences over my heart, somehow she'd so easily slipped past. She was the gravity that kept my head on my shoulders. The thousand metal cables that kept me tied to reality.

Even when I went back on our hard work; I came to school high, reeking of alcohol or I'd stumble out of a closet with some slut, she'd simply smile at me sadly, and walk to the park. The disappointment on her face and hurt in her eyes was enough. The guilt would wash over me, and gradually… I stopped.

In little over six months, she'd saved me. Of course, it wasn't easy. She hadn't made me do anything by force, just gently helped me along by making me want to make the right choices. But the barriers were still there, even if I was gradually starting to knock them down.

The first barrier was truth. One day, we'd been in the park, and I could see the shimmer of curiosity in her eyes. And I'd simply shut my eyes and said,


And that was that. From then onwards, we were open with each other. The wall of mystery was abolished, broken, crushed. I learnt things about her, and also…things about myself. It was like I couldn't lie to her. Every question she asked, the truth would spill out my lips before I could stop it, or soften the blow.

The next defence was touch. All through the time she'd known me, we'd never made contact. She'd been so careful to avoid contact with me; at first I'd thought it was simply disgust at where I could have been, or what I'd taken; but soon, when she opened her mind and past to me properly, I found out why she couldn't stand contact. And after that, I'd simply placed my hand over hers; but for the first time, she hadn't moved it before. Instead, she'd interlocked our fingers with a ghost of a smile.

Since then, we'd held hands everywhere. Every simple touch sent my blond singing in my veins, a spark of electricity over my skin. And one day, when we'd been over my house in my room listening to some music, I did what I'd been dying to do for so long.

I learnt forwards and pressed my lips to hers. For a few seconds, she didn't respond and I felt my heart sink. Yet just as I learned back, pale ivory hands had slipped around my neck and held me in a soft grasp that no matter how gentle, was unbreakable. I was enthralled with her, lost in her. She didn't need to hold me, or even look at me and I wouldn't stray from her side and she knew it.

Soon, kissing turned to touching, touching to feeling, and I felt the desperation in the air; the desperation that both of us felt. The want to simply be with another human completely. She had been just as lonely as I had, and now… we had both finally found the person who somehow knew how we felt. And that was how it had progressed. Soon, We'd fallen back against the bed, the clothes between us had vanished and not even air was between us. The whispered promises, soft moans and passion filled cries had finally been meaningful. I was no virgin, but it was a whole new experience; this time, it wasn't just about pleasure. It was expressing the love for one another that neither of us could quite say with words. Not yet, atleast.

And afterwards, when we'd laid together under the sheets, our breath mingling and bodies intertwined, I had finally felt complete. Still, there was one more barrier.

All too soon, it had been finals, then prom. Of course, I'd taken her; beaten the screaming and crying Keigo off of her as he had tried to ask, and simply looked her in the eye with one eyebrow raised. She'd nodded back with a heartbreaking smile, and that had been it. No words were needed.

She'd been stunning that night. She was always incredibly beautiful to me, but when I saw her walking down the stairs of her house, everything else I'd come to find beautiful, even the moon itself, had paled in comparison.

We'd been there, dancing and talking in our own world. Then when she'd gone to the ladies, a guy I had known from school had come up to me, muttering those old wards in my ear.

"Lookin' for a score?"
The temptation had arised in me, a burning need at that second. Just to feel that euphoria of being high again… then a tiny hand slipped in mine. Rukia's.

"No." I'd said, looking down at Rukia as I said it. And she grinned at me, with that final barrier falling in her eyes.

Trust. She finally trusted me. I was so overjoyed in that moment, that I couldn't even hope to express it. I simply pulled her away to the side and said those words that I'd choked on before so many times.

"I love you."

And when Rukia said it back to me, I felt my spirit soar. This was how my life was supposed to be.

The rest of the night had been a blur of happiness, stolen kisses at the dark sides of the dancefloor and the feel of soft curves under satin as we danced the night away.

After that we'd gotten our finals results; by some miracle…no. With Rukia's help, I'd passed everything. Even though my grades were good enough to get me into a strong upholding job, I didn't want to go for anything fancy. Instead, with Rukia supporting me, I'd later applied to a course in being a social worker. I wanted to help kids that had been like me; the ones that didn't have a Rukia to save them.

Rukia had passed all of her exams with flying colours, of course. She was going to go into psychology. She wanted to be a forensic profiler; and in a few years, we'd both gotten where we wanted to be.

We got married when we'd been together for five years. Even though to her it was just a piece of paper and some metal bands, I'd wanted to make it official. I wanted to prove to everyone that she was my soulmate. My angel.

It hadn't been a big affair, but that was how she wanted it. I wanted it to be perfect, like her. I owed her my everything.

I still do.

She's my angel, my perfect moon.

My saviour.