[bleach][requested way back when.] speaks louder than...
Sorry these're taking so long. Life.
Hitsugaya and Hinamori, inspired by requests by chironstar and penguin_sensei. Chiron, sorry, but I can't do fluff whenever I encounter these two.
It took one look for Momo to resolve half-jokingly never to be comatose again-- because she'd missed too much.
The practice sword fell to the ground with a clatter as she gaped, eyes wide, at the figure in front of her. Raising a quivering hand to Toushirou's face, her lips moved soundlessly.
"I'm back," he supplied.
"...You're back," she echoed, and traced the hard, mockingly smooth stream of scar tissue along his cheek. He shuddered, grabbed her hand, held it away from the line. She had still another hand, and with it, gave him a slap that cracked across the unblemished side of his face.
He dropped her hand, and met her eyes with a tired expression. "What was that, Hinamori?"
Her gaze went unfocused. "I...I--" Dazed, she turned, reaching for the sword, and found her progress impeded by two arms now, thin and wiry (and they were the same height now, oh skies), wrapped around her quivering body. When he sighed, she could feel his weariness in his breath, against her neck.
"I'm glad you're safe," she finished helplessly. i'm glad you're alive don't leave me alone again like--
"I'm glad you're back," he answered. you've been gone longer than i have and you're still so far away--
All the same, she turned in his embrace, reached for the sword, and he pulled her back. "Don't."
Eyes flicked to him, startled. Her fingers jerked at her side, where Tobiume was not, closeted away from her in the confines of the Tenth Division headquarters. "Why?"
"You don't need to now."
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, unnoticed. "I-- I do, oh, I need to find a way--"
With a heartbreaking gentility, he pressed a finger to her chest, against a hard, ironically smooth plane of scar tissue separated from him by a layer of cloth, and she sank to the ground, streaming water and pain with her weakness driven home.
He caught her under the arms, supported her as she crumpled, closed his eyes against her hair. "You're not healed. Don't work too hard." why will you still hurt for him?
She let out a quivering breath of air, each puff weighty with broken promises. "I won't." i can't let go.
Holding on like lifelines, neither acknowledged the unspoken.
Hey, look, new teacup icon!
Hitsugaya and Hinamori, inspired by requests by chironstar and penguin_sensei. Chiron, sorry, but I can't do fluff whenever I encounter these two.
It took one look for Momo to resolve half-jokingly never to be comatose again-- because she'd missed too much.
The practice sword fell to the ground with a clatter as she gaped, eyes wide, at the figure in front of her. Raising a quivering hand to Toushirou's face, her lips moved soundlessly.
"I'm back," he supplied.
"...You're back," she echoed, and traced the hard, mockingly smooth stream of scar tissue along his cheek. He shuddered, grabbed her hand, held it away from the line. She had still another hand, and with it, gave him a slap that cracked across the unblemished side of his face.
He dropped her hand, and met her eyes with a tired expression. "What was that, Hinamori?"
Her gaze went unfocused. "I...I--" Dazed, she turned, reaching for the sword, and found her progress impeded by two arms now, thin and wiry (and they were the same height now, oh skies), wrapped around her quivering body. When he sighed, she could feel his weariness in his breath, against her neck.
"I'm glad you're safe," she finished helplessly. i'm glad you're alive don't leave me alone again like--
"I'm glad you're back," he answered. you've been gone longer than i have and you're still so far away--
All the same, she turned in his embrace, reached for the sword, and he pulled her back. "Don't."
Eyes flicked to him, startled. Her fingers jerked at her side, where Tobiume was not, closeted away from her in the confines of the Tenth Division headquarters. "Why?"
"You don't need to now."
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, unnoticed. "I-- I do, oh, I need to find a way--"
With a heartbreaking gentility, he pressed a finger to her chest, against a hard, ironically smooth plane of scar tissue separated from him by a layer of cloth, and she sank to the ground, streaming water and pain with her weakness driven home.
He caught her under the arms, supported her as she crumpled, closed his eyes against her hair. "You're not healed. Don't work too hard." why will you still hurt for him?
She let out a quivering breath of air, each puff weighty with broken promises. "I won't." i can't let go.
Holding on like lifelines, neither acknowledged the unspoken.
Hey, look, new teacup icon!