Ladies and Gentlemen- Chapter 21
Ladies and Gentlemen 21
***This chapter ends a little Grimm-centric... Grimmjow is also (along with Ichigo because he is still mourning) going to be more OOC than normal, because (metaphorically speaking) the heart is a fragile thing...and in my story he is not a hollow, so he has one. Yaoi, Angst.
**Bleach is Kubo's, What's New Pussycat belongs to Tom Jones, and the credit for Creep goes to Radiohead
Of Good Men and Fools
"What the fuck 'er you doin' out here in the rain?" The voice caused my eyes to snap open, and I realized that my head had lulled forward while I was in the process of passing out. Slowly I bring my gaze up from the shiny black shoes, to the dark jeans and black unbuttoned coat over an equally black shirt, and finally to the intruders piercing blue eyes and shocking blue hair...
"Grimmjow?"
It's quiet for a second while I let the implications of running into him sink in. Great this is all I need right now.
"Nice to see that ya remember my name. Now answer my damn question." His tall form hovers over me, the umbrella in his hand sheltering us both from the blissfully numbing rain and I contemplate pushing him back. I'm not ready for the world to come back yet.
"Trying to sleep." Genius.
He bends down, cerulean eyes boring into my own and the intensity of the stare makes me shift uncomfortably. "Sleepin' in the rain isn't your most brilliant of ideas...try again."
Damn it! Just leave me to mope in peace, "Meditating."
"I would laugh if I knew you weren't actually trying to get rid of me. Asshole, I'm not leavin' ya out here alone in the rain, now what the fuck happened?"
Not ready to relive the nightmare of my day, I shake my head and provide the half truth that I hope is good enough, "Bad day at work."
His eyes narrow slightly, probably scrutinizing my answer for what it was, an escape. Luckily he doesn't press any further, "Ya don't say. Come on, it's not gonna get any better when ya get sick from sitting out here like an idiot." Grabbing my arm, he pulls me to my feet and despite not wanting to leave, I just don't have the energy to argue. Not to mention that something in the back of my head tells me he's right, getting sick won't help anything.
In order to fit us both under the umbrella, he forced me under his arm, growling when I tried to pull away. Giving in, my senses slowly start coming back and I feel my body start to shake. I didn't even realize how cold I was until I could feel Grimmjow's body heat scorching my uncovered skin. Hearing the chime of a bell, my attention is drawn back to the world outside of the umbrella and I realize that we are entering the coffee shop across the street from my beloved wet bench. I hadn't even noticed that we were moving.
Grimmjow closes the umbrella and swiftly moves inside, directing us to one of the back tables. He forces me into a seat directly under the heating vent and drapes his coat over my shoulders, "Take it off and I will make you sit in my lap." I spare him a short glare as he sits down and give my attention to the designed tile patterns on the table. Let's see, blue swirls, purple circles, that one kind of looks like a star...
"You wanna tell me anything yet?"
"No." I can tell he is getting frustrated, but I don't really care. Let him yell, maybe it will provide a better distraction than the table. He rises from his seat slightly, the vein on his forehead popping out and I stiffen, preparing for the onslaught that is sure to come when his mouth opens again. However, the torrent of shouts I was expecting was replaced with an uncharacteristic soft and tired voice, "Fine, wait here."
No way did I get out of Grimmjow's rage that easily. Curious, I watch as he walks to the window in the front of the shop and pulls out his phone. Huh guess so. Not really caring about who he is calling or why, my attention slips back down to the table, the little squares now begging to be counted. Shock? Perhaps. Do I honestly care? Not really.
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"What's new Pussycat?
Whoa, whooaa,
What's new Pussycat?
Whoa, whooaa, whoa.
Pussycat, Pussycat..."
Chuckling at the song blaring from my pocket, and the fact that the drunk I was serving at the bar nearly fell out of his chair when the unexpected music started, I pull the phone out and wave it in front of him. "Nothin' ta be afraid of."
He snorted and took another swig of his drink, "Yer girlfriend?"
I laughed at that, "Yeah, the big, blue, bitchy one." He was laughing hysterically by the time I answered my phone, "How ya doin' Cookie?"
"Where the fuck are you?" Wow he really does sound like a bitchy girlfriend.
"Workin.' Why the fuck's it matter?"
"Do you have any idea what is wrong with Ichigo?" His irritation seems to wear into worry and the words nearly cause me to drop the glass I'd been drying.
"Why would something be wrong with him?" I was able to keep my voice level but the worry wasn't willing to hide. He should be working until 5, so when would Grimmjow have-
"Found him on a bench at 5th and Central. The idiot was just reclining in the freezing rain like it was the nicest fuckin' day of the year." Ichigo?
"Where are you?"
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After what felt like a couple minutes, Grimmjow fell back into the seat across from me. I could feel him staring but tried my best to ignore it. Eventually, I hear him sigh and get back up, "You want somethin' to drink?"
"You don't need to be here. I'll stay until the rain stops."
"If you think I'm leavin' ya by yourself right now, then you are outta yer damn mind. And that wasn't an answer to my question."
"I don't want anything." Though now that I'm thinking about it, a white chocolate mocha doesn't sound terrible. Before I can tell him that I changed my mind, he is already walking toward the counter to order. Oh well, I don't want it bad enough to run up there after him.
Refocusing on the table, I try to pinpoint tile 215 so I can continue my mission. Just after tile 230, I distantly hear the bell above the front door chime and am content to ignore it until Grimmjow opens his big mouth again, "What the hell? Did you fuckin' fly here? And don't either fucking one of you own a damn umbrella?" What?
I look up and freeze when I catch sight of my soaked boyfriend at the door. His golden gaze locks onto mine through low hanging silver bangs, water still dripping off the ends. My breath hitches when he begins advancing in my direction, pausing briefly to toss some money on the counter, but never looking away from me.
"I'll take a large white chocolate mocha and a large caramel macchiato, keep the change." He continues walking, shrugging out of his leather jacket and placing it on the chair next to mine but not taking the seat. Kneeling in front of me, he places his still warm hand on my cheek and hisses at the frigidness of my skin. I lean into the touch and want nothing more that to curl into him and share that warmth. He must be able to read my thoughts because in the next second, he had his arms around me, one snaking up my back to stroke my still wet hair. The awkward angle of me sitting in the chair and him half kneeling, half bending to embrace me made it difficult to get the full contact I wanted, so I slid off the chair and pulled him to the floor with me, nearly crawling into his lap before I was satisfied.
It was quiet for a second before Shiro finally spoke, one simple but loaded word, "Ichigo?"
That one word held so much meaning. My full name from Shiro, outside of the bedroom is a rarity on it's own. Add to that the soft questioning tone, the precise clarity yet definite anxiety, and I knew just how worried he had been. I owe him an explanation and he deserves to know what happened. Shiro likes the Heim family too.
I feel the first few tears trek down my face and decide to get it out before I can no longer trust my voice, "Mr. Heim died during the operation." Shiro stiffens, but recovers quickly, tightening his hold on me while I bury my face in his chest. I won't let anyone else see me cry.
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The only thing I could do was watch. From the time my asshole friend showed up, to the two drinks he ordered, to the gentle touches he gave my Strawberry, till finally Ichigo broke down, curling into the bastard and divulging in less than 30 seconds, what I couldn't get him to say in 30 minutes. And the only god damn thing I could do about it was stand there like a fucking idiot, with my one fucking coffee, and fucking watch!
I've always considered myself a generally good man. I have honor, I'm honest, I always pay back my debts because I hate owing a damn thing to anybody, and for those I care about, I'll do just about anything. That's why when I couldn't fix Ichigo, I called in a reinforcement. But how was I supposed to know at the time, when all I could think about was fixing him, that my actions would result in breaking myself. When did I fall so far behind? We've kept in touch and at my insistence hung out at least once every few weeks for the past six months.
Damn it to hell, even when we were together all those years ago, he never let me hold him like that! And I'll be damned if I ever saw one fucking tear. Even through the anger, I can't help but wonder if we could have ever been like that. If I had tried harder, would that be me you were clinging to so desperately right now?
Perhaps I waited too long? If I had not waited for you to realize that you belonged with me, or for Shirosaki to fuck up, would things be different? Am I a fool for not being a bastard and forcing my way back in? I remember years ago naively telling Ulquiorra that good men will eventually get what they want. After all, that's how it's supposed to work right? He called me a fool and said that in the real world, only the intelligent and forceful get what they want. I still don't fully believe that someone has to be a brainiac douche to get everything they want, but there is no denying that my way didn't work either.
Looking at the two of them, huddled together on the floor of this dinky coffee shop, completely ignoring the call of their drink order, I know that there is no way that will ever be me. Somewhere along the way, I was a fool.
Taking one last look at the mourning couple on the floor, I turn and walk back out into the rain before doing something stupid that I know I'd regret later. My mouth has an amazing way of getting me in trouble. Flipping open the umbrella, I lift it back over my head and snort when I immediately recognize Shiro's fancy black sports car, parked quite illegally on the curb in front of the shop. If I were feeling generous, I might go back in and offer to move it for him, but as it stands, I don't think I could go back in there without ripping his head off. Good men don't decapitate their friends, but after what I just saw, I'd have to be a saint in order to resist.
Ignoring the shiny black reminder that my nemesis is comforting the man that should have been mine, I continue on to the parking garage at the end of the lot and finally to my shiny blue comfort zone. Climbing into the Jag, I close the door and turn the keys in the ignition. The engine hums and the radio comes to life, the station host announcing a song from some US band...Radiohead? What the hell kind of name is that? About to change the station based on name prejudice alone, I stop when the tune comes over, playing into my mood and catching my interest.
"When you were here before,
Couldn't look you in the eye,
You're just like an angel,
Your skin makes me cry.
You float like a feather,
In a beautiful world.
I wish I was special,
You're so fucking special..."
The words remind me of Ichigo, and I sit back to listen, playing bits and pieces of the past hour through my head.
"...But I'm a creep,
I'm a weirdo,
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here..."
Yeah, that's about exactly how I felt while watching that bastard console my Strawberry. Well that, the rage, and...
"...I don't care if it hurts,
I want to have control.
I want a perfect body,
I want a perfect soul..."
...and the stupidity of letting him slip away while I was trying to be a good man. If I had tried to get control of the situation earlier, would it have been different?
"...I want you to notice,
When I'm not around.
You're so fucking special,
I wish I was special..."
I wonder if Ichigo has even noticed that I left. Probably not, since to him, I didn't even belong there in the first place.
"...But I'm a creep,
I'm a weirdo,
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here.
Ohh Oohh,
She's running out again,
She's running out,
She runs runs runs ruuuuuns..."
I snort at the familiarity...he certainly ran from me. From me and into the arms of one of my only friends. I should hate him for this pain, I tried to...But damn I still love the little fucker.
"...Whatever makes you happy,
Whatever you want.
You're so fucking special,
I wish I was special..."
Does being with Shirosaki really make you happy, Ichigo? Do you love him? More importantly, does he love you like I do? I could never rest knowing that I lost you to someone who's feelings for you are inferior to my own.
"...But I'm a creep,
I'm a weirdo.
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here.
I don't belong here."
At the end of the song, I flip off the radio so I don't lose my train of thought. If I really love Ichigo, then his happiness should come first. I know that I can make him happy, but since he has made it clear that he doesn't want me...Or rather, that he wants Shirosaki, the next line of action should be to make damn sure that the Snowflake is willing to do anything for the Strawberry.
I've let him blow me off in the past, only dishing out a few hits in frustration, him retaliating with less than equal enthusiasm. But mediocre sparring isn't good enough for me to believe that he is willing to go the distance for Ichigo.
How far are you willing to go to fight for the Strawberry, Snowflake?
Pulling out my phone, I do something I always swore was a waste of time, I mean why the fuck text when speaking is easier, and leaves a bigger impression anyway? Well, when side B is holding your crying Strawberry, maybe subtlety is better.
Shirosaki, I'm at my limit. Prove to me that you love him like I do. Over our friendship, over our blood, prove it and I'll leave him to you.
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