"Choices", a Bleach ficlet
Disclaimer: I do not own the Bleach or its characters. They are property of Tite Kubo and Studio Pierrot.
Rating: G
Pairing: You haveta figure it out (although it’s probably easy as heck).
Author’s note: I’ve been feeling just a tad on the unfair side for a while now. This little drabble-ish piece is a result of that. The point of view starts off from one person at the beginning and ends with another. If you can guess the ppl & pairings in this fic, tell me who it starts with and who it finishes with. I tweaked a few things so it's easier to tell who the characters are. Let's see if you can all guess now. =) Enjoy.
"I never knew, until that moment, how bad it could hurt to lose something you never really had." - The Wonder Years
--
He never, even on his most wild of days, could have imagined this moment. He hadn’t even been aware that he was involved in a moment such as this until just now. With a clear mind he finally understood; with patent eyes he could see; with a decided heart he reciprocated.
It was nearly too past overdue. It was close to being far too late. She had nearly walked away. And that realization made him all the more determined. He wouldn’t let her go. He hadn’t ever, and he wasn’t about to start doing so.
Two sets of clenched jaws and eyes of blue and brown mirrored each other as they silently waged war. Yet again.
“Please…don’t!”
The other man glanced at the only voice of reason through incandescent mirrors across his eyes; arrogantly ignoring her but quietly wishing for her support. How far did he have to travel before she finally realized everything?
“Come on,” the more aggressive of the males growled to her; demanding her decision. Now that he could feel her heart in rhythm with his, he would do whatever it took to take her with him. Any and everything.
Luckily it took nothing at all. It had always been him.
She glanced at the other man, tears threatening at the corners of her large eyes, as she walked towards his opponent’s open palm. Even through the numbness the defeated felt, he couldn't help but memorize the way the sun danced against her hairpins; highlighting teary eyes.
No human being should ever be put into a situation such as this. Friends were supposed to be close no matter what, weren’t they?
Instead of rain, she was an earthquake. Not uniting hearts, but tearing them to tiny little fragments.
Her small hand was claimed by the victor’s; solid and steady.
The disowned’s hands shook with anger and disappointment. He felt like a fool. He should have known who she would pick. It had always been the other man. Even before she had been aware of it.
Maybe it was better this way.
He would not have to constantly worry, if she had indeed picked him instead, if it were his lips she tasted, or his foe’s. His heart she memorized; or the other’s.
This was how it should be. He would accept it. He would go back to loving her from the shadows. He was more familiar with her backside anyways.
She was always facing and showering him with her smile. Rarely, almost never, him. So he would return to loving her hair; shoulders; rear; legs; one side of her.
There were many things he could have said; done, to fix this. Make her look behind her and second-guess her decision. But he chose not to. Instead, he watched them leave in the wake of a somber silence. A stillness he was all too familiar with; and less than fond of. But this was her decision. And he would respect it. This wasn’t the first time he had been torched to the brink of origin, and it wouldn’t be the last. He was rather accustomed to the ache of being disregarded; forgotten; ignored. It was far from a loving relationship, his pain and his conscious, but it was something he was ready for; anticipating.
Yes, this was better. It had been bound to turn out this way, anyhow.
It’s not that he had wanted her to leave. No, that wasn’t it at all. It was just that-
…
He had always known that she would.