The Scarf / IchiRuki
Title: The Scarf
Fandom: Bleach
Characters/Pairing: Ichigo/Rukia
Rating: G
A/N: Fluffy drabble written on Valentines Day. Because it's always more fun to write romance than to live it.
The scarf is dark gray and clumsily knitted, with obvious holes from dropped stitches every few rows. She pulls it around his neck, stepping back to observe her handiwork, arms crossed. He loosens it, looking skeptically at the holes that are large enough to fit his fingers through.
"Well, excuse me for not being good at this sort of stuff!" she snaps before he has a chance to say anything. This was a stupid idea, she mentally chastises herself. You know you're no good at arts and crafts, all that girlie stuff. Leave that up to Orihime.
"It's fine." There's a definite scowl on his face. If it was anyone else, she'd worry at least a bit that they thought she was an idiot, but seeing as it's him, the scowl's as close to a smile as she's going to get. It seems the expression is permanently affixed to his face. "You're really defensive, you know that?" The corners of his mouth twitch upward for a second, or maybe it's just her imagination.
They continue on down the snowy street, him with his hands jammed into his pockets, her shivering without a jacket over her school uniform. So this is Valentine's Day in the human world - she just doesn't see much point in it. All the girls at school make a big deal out of it, squealing over plans for the afternoon and who was buying who candy, leaning in and asking her in a faux-whisper, "So, do you have plans with Kurosaki? You can tell me..."
Somehow she doesn't think this counts as plans.
"You're gonna freeze to death."
His voice jolts her from her thoughts.
"Huh? No I'm not."
"Like I said, defensive." He pulls one arm out of his coat and drapes it over her shoulder, rolling his eyes. "If you were cold, you coulda just said something."
"Wh- ?"
She can feel his warmth still clinging to the coat.
Fandom: Bleach
Characters/Pairing: Ichigo/Rukia
Rating: G
A/N: Fluffy drabble written on Valentines Day. Because it's always more fun to write romance than to live it.
The scarf is dark gray and clumsily knitted, with obvious holes from dropped stitches every few rows. She pulls it around his neck, stepping back to observe her handiwork, arms crossed. He loosens it, looking skeptically at the holes that are large enough to fit his fingers through.
"Well, excuse me for not being good at this sort of stuff!" she snaps before he has a chance to say anything. This was a stupid idea, she mentally chastises herself. You know you're no good at arts and crafts, all that girlie stuff. Leave that up to Orihime.
"It's fine." There's a definite scowl on his face. If it was anyone else, she'd worry at least a bit that they thought she was an idiot, but seeing as it's him, the scowl's as close to a smile as she's going to get. It seems the expression is permanently affixed to his face. "You're really defensive, you know that?" The corners of his mouth twitch upward for a second, or maybe it's just her imagination.
They continue on down the snowy street, him with his hands jammed into his pockets, her shivering without a jacket over her school uniform. So this is Valentine's Day in the human world - she just doesn't see much point in it. All the girls at school make a big deal out of it, squealing over plans for the afternoon and who was buying who candy, leaning in and asking her in a faux-whisper, "So, do you have plans with Kurosaki? You can tell me..."
Somehow she doesn't think this counts as plans.
"You're gonna freeze to death."
His voice jolts her from her thoughts.
"Huh? No I'm not."
"Like I said, defensive." He pulls one arm out of his coat and drapes it over her shoulder, rolling his eyes. "If you were cold, you coulda just said something."
"Wh- ?"
She can feel his warmth still clinging to the coat.