Hurt Me

Thank you all very much for reviews, they made me happy!

~*~*~

After all these months he still felt himself incomplete. Like someone ripped his soul from out of his body, and it was floating and following him everywhere like a balloon tied to his arm with a thin silver ribbon. It would haunt him in his dreams, watch while he's sleeping. And he would wake up too early every morning, bed soaked in his sweat, and for a moment there it would feel as if he was looking into the eyes of his own soul. But that vaporous cloud would quickly retreat into his body, though not deep enough. And then, he would lie there, staring at the white ceiling, trying to conceal the awful memories. Those baby blue eyes and fair curly hair, a cute little smile, and then the screams of desperation and bright tongues of fire hugging the building in a death hold. But it seemed that the more he tried to forget the more distinct those horrible images would get.

Then the wet sticky sheets got too much to stand, so he went to the window and opened it, and then went to take a shower, leaving the mess that was his bed to dry.

The warm water felt nice, calming him, warming the skin, cleaning it off the uncomfortable feeling. So he turned the water to cold, keeping himself from pulling away from the spray. He struggled not to shake like a leaf, to keep breathing, because it felt like the cold water was suffocating him. But he stayed there until he was sure that every cell of his body was awake and ready for exercise.

Warming up his skin and drying his hair with a towel, he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He felt pathetic. He looked pathetic. His skin was a sickly pale color, with dark shades under his blue eyes. His blue hair hung in all directions, curling in all the wrong places. Where did his grin go? He wasn't smiling like he used to, he wasn't even frowning. His muscles were hidden to deep under the skin and his body was in a great need of a good work out. It was all wrong, but it was so hard to get the real Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez back.

Fuck it.

He went back to the bedroom and closed the window. After putting on some sweatpants and a hoodie he headed for the front door to put a pair of sneakers. It was time for his everyday run.

Just as he was about to exit the apartment a quiet drowsy voice from the couch stopped him, "Hey, Grimm, I'm out of cigarettes."

"Smoking is bad for your health, and it's dangerous," Grimmjow said, now looking at Starrk, who didn't even open his eyes while speaking to him.

"If you didn't want to buy them you could've just said so," the man sighed, probably drifting off to sleep again.
Grimmjow hesitated a little. It wasn't hard for him to buy cigarettes for the man, but Starrk tended to fall asleep easily, often and any time of the day, so the man's habit of smoking was indeed pretty dangerous. And he didn't trust the fire department anymore. But...

"Fine, fine, old man," he grunted, walking out of the apartment and out of the building. It was fresh outside, but humid from the night's rain. There was no mist this time though.

Crossing the street and entering the park, that was across the apartment building he lived in, he started running. The thought of the mist made him remember something that happened just a few days ago.

The weather was awful that day, but it didn't stop him from doing his usual morning run. And on the way back home he saw a young man sitting in a wheelchair, probably seeing off his girlfriend that stood in the hallway. He paused at doorway to regard the kid. It was rude to stare at people so openly, but the kid didn't notice him. Ichigo, if he remembered it right, from what Starrk had told him. He felt strange. Not the kind of strange when you feel butterflies playing with your insides, but excited, because this Ichigo guy was only neighbor on his floor that he hadn't met yet. He studied the young man. His hair was the color of mango, his nose was strait and his lips were not too full and with upturned corners. He was wearing a light pink T-shirt and gray sweatpants, and he somehow reminded Grimmjow of The Offspring vocalist. But Grimmjow shook his at the ridiculousness of that though, the kid was much more prettier than Dexter Holland, obviously, and entered his apartment.

He lived with Starrk and Lilynette, Starrk's daughter, for over a month now, and the only people he'd seen going in and out of that apartment were the girl, he assumed was Ichigo's girlfriend, and tall, muscled, gray-haired man, who's visits always resulted in yelling and shouting. And here Grimmjow thought that the walls in their building were thick enough. Guess not. Or those two were just being too loud. Anyway, he felt a bit safer after that incident. 'Cause there was an alive human being in the apartment across, not a ghost. Right...

He passed a hobo, lying on the grass behind a bench, and another insomniac, who was already sweating from a long exercise. He moved on, circling the park few times when he noticed it was getting harder for him to breath.
Damn, he should have brought his mp3-player with him. The music would've prevented his thouts from straying. It was hard to control his breathing, it was becoming erratic, his lungs burning with the need of oxygen. But he forced himself to continue, like he always did. Because he knew if he stopped, he would lose himself. Action was life. He had to move on. He couldn't go back. He had to continue. He will do it himself.

Fuck his shrink. Fuck hospital. Fuck rehab. Fuck. Them. All. He will do it himself.

He ran and ran, until his legs felt like giving out, his right side hurting like he took an electricity shot. And slowed down his running till he was walking, and headed back home, buying a pack of cigarettes on the way.
When he entered the apartment, Starrk was still sleeping. And not only that, but he was snoring loudly, which was annoying Grimmjow to hell and back. So he threw the cigarettes at the man. Starrk didn't even flinch, but he stopped snoring at least.

The moment Starrk stopped snoring, Grimmjow heard shuffling of sheets from one of the bedrooms and went to the kitchen to get some water. Soon enough Lily appeared in the kitchen doorway. She was wearing light green pajamas with teddy bears, and was yawning and rubbing at her right eye. Grimmjow would've even called the sight cute, if he didn't know that that brat could curse like a sailor. And of course he knew that, who did you think that vocabulary came from?

"'Morning, monster," he said as he finished his water. "I'm gonna take a shower."

"You stink," she nodded a greeting, moving to the fridge.

He loved his family anyway.

~*~*~

Ichigo reached to set his cappuccino on the table. They met at a coffee shop in the center of their town. He, Tatsuki and Orihime. That was the plan, but it took another rout when Orihime appeared exactly thirteen minutes later and not alone. His name was Ishida Uryu, a half-Japanese half-French famous cloths designer and Orihime's future husband. He was Orihime's surprise for them, yay... But Ichigo didn't like surprises, and he was sure that from that day Tatsuki officially hated surprises. He could feet how tense she, he knew her since they were four, and by no he learned to feel things like that not even looking at her. He knew she was forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes. But Orihime didn't notice that, she was too busy telling them how she and Uryu (she always pronounce the 'r' in French manner, and the bespectacled man was melting every time she said his name, his haughty appearance vanishing some where) met and about their future plans. She was too busy being in love. And he knew Tatsuki would rather kill herself than worry Orihime's happiness. But her death would upset Orihime, too.

Undone.

The time flew by and the couple said their goodbyes and left some money to cover their order, leaving Ichigo and Tatsuki to watch at their retreating backs.

"At least it's a guy," Ichigo was the first to brake the silence, though he said it rather to himself. He sighed and turned his head to regard Tatsuki, who was staring ahead, seemingly at nothing. Feeling the need to break any thoughts that might have been running through her head, he snaked his hand around the back of her neck. And after a moment she gave in, hugging him, hiding her face in the crook of Ichigo's neck, where silent tears rolled one by one.

"Come on, red doesn't suit you," he said after a while. She nodded and leaned back to wipe the tears off her eyes. "Come home with me."

She nodded again, and they were gone.

~*~*~

A/N: Oh, hell... I hope Grimmjow wasn't too OOC. And sorry for the wait, but I'm writing a bachelor's thesis this year and it's really depressing, not to mention how much time it calls for.
By the way, did you read the new chapter of Bleach (at last!)? I think Kubo's lost it finally. Though I enjoyed Karin and Yuzu so much, they're so cute I love them.