FANFIC DUMP III: IchiHime, Gen
Drabble: First Kiss
Characters: Ichigo, Orihime
Pairing: IchiHime
Authors Note: Don’t own, and all characters featured belong to Kubo and shonen jump.
*****
It had happened on a Sunday.
Ichigo couldn't remember why he was there. Had it been an assignment? Was it to return a book? Did he want to ask her question?
Those little details seemed to fade away from his memory.
All he could remember was being there. Shivering, as he knocked the door. Nervous as he was invited in. Touched as he saw her smile again, showing warmth and vibrancy of a forgotten innocence. They had stayed lingering in her small apartment, coyly looking at the other, whispering inaudible answers to simple questions and wondering about the increasing pace of their heartbeats.
He couldn’t remember who moved first. Had she offered tea? Did he move to collect something from his bag? What he could remember were her hands, her small soft hands which often protected more than they destroyed. Hands he suddenly wanted to hold in his own, hands he wanted to protect with his own strength. Her hands which had been twitching either due to nervousness or fear.
It was at this point he could begin remember things clearly.
He could remember standing beside her suddenly, the shock on her face noticeable. He remembered moving his hand through her hair, his eyes never leaving hers. He could then remember him shifting even closer towards her, his soft whisper in her ear, promising over and over he would protect her no matter what happened. He remembered drawing back, fighting back the nerves to run and the fear of rejection. He remembered the flush of pink on her face, her eyes which seemed to water slightly and her arms which went from twitching to keeping still. He remembered the softness of her lips, the warmth in the way in she called out his name and the smile which seemed to return, more affectionate than it ever was. The smile that blinded him with its brightness.
This brightness that ignited that spark.
He remembered kissing her.
He wasn’t too sure if it was because of the warmth, or the silence or the way his heart seemed to behave at that moment, stranger than it ever had. But he remembered her hands, hands which went from limpness to pulling him closer. Lips which moved against his own, lips which returned his eagerness and strengthened his resolve. Ultimately, he would remember her heartbeat, which he would realise was as fluttery as his own.
He remembered when they parted, both surprised and flushed, shifting their gaze at different points in her small living room. He remembered her small laugh of nervousness and his small grin in return.
He remembered the peace that the new silence brought.
He couldn’t remember what happened next, or what they had done in following hours after that moment. He couldn't even remember as to what time in the evening he had left. Nor did he remember at which point he discussed their first date, or when they would admit to be dating in public.
All Ichigo remembered was that for the rest of the afternoon, he held her hand. The memories of the kiss still present, as his thumb stroked her fingers gently.
Characters: Ichigo, Orihime
Pairing: IchiHime
Authors Note: Don’t own, and all characters featured belong to Kubo and shonen jump.
*****
It had happened on a Sunday.
Ichigo couldn't remember why he was there. Had it been an assignment? Was it to return a book? Did he want to ask her question?
Those little details seemed to fade away from his memory.
All he could remember was being there. Shivering, as he knocked the door. Nervous as he was invited in. Touched as he saw her smile again, showing warmth and vibrancy of a forgotten innocence. They had stayed lingering in her small apartment, coyly looking at the other, whispering inaudible answers to simple questions and wondering about the increasing pace of their heartbeats.
He couldn’t remember who moved first. Had she offered tea? Did he move to collect something from his bag? What he could remember were her hands, her small soft hands which often protected more than they destroyed. Hands he suddenly wanted to hold in his own, hands he wanted to protect with his own strength. Her hands which had been twitching either due to nervousness or fear.
It was at this point he could begin remember things clearly.
He could remember standing beside her suddenly, the shock on her face noticeable. He remembered moving his hand through her hair, his eyes never leaving hers. He could then remember him shifting even closer towards her, his soft whisper in her ear, promising over and over he would protect her no matter what happened. He remembered drawing back, fighting back the nerves to run and the fear of rejection. He remembered the flush of pink on her face, her eyes which seemed to water slightly and her arms which went from twitching to keeping still. He remembered the softness of her lips, the warmth in the way in she called out his name and the smile which seemed to return, more affectionate than it ever was. The smile that blinded him with its brightness.
This brightness that ignited that spark.
He remembered kissing her.
He wasn’t too sure if it was because of the warmth, or the silence or the way his heart seemed to behave at that moment, stranger than it ever had. But he remembered her hands, hands which went from limpness to pulling him closer. Lips which moved against his own, lips which returned his eagerness and strengthened his resolve. Ultimately, he would remember her heartbeat, which he would realise was as fluttery as his own.
He remembered when they parted, both surprised and flushed, shifting their gaze at different points in her small living room. He remembered her small laugh of nervousness and his small grin in return.
He remembered the peace that the new silence brought.
He couldn’t remember what happened next, or what they had done in following hours after that moment. He couldn't even remember as to what time in the evening he had left. Nor did he remember at which point he discussed their first date, or when they would admit to be dating in public.
All Ichigo remembered was that for the rest of the afternoon, he held her hand. The memories of the kiss still present, as his thumb stroked her fingers gently.