fanfiction || Synethesis [Bleach] || snippet
Title: Synethesis
Fandom: BLEACH
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance
Pairing: Gin/Ran
Disclaimer: I don't own BLEACH or any of the associated characters.
A/N: Inspired by the neuro-condition synethesia. It's awesome.
Summary: He hears colours and tastes sounds; her words are his addiction.
She presses a finger to her lips and grins-cyan whispers through. He tastes bitter on this tongue. It is addicting.
They are young-much too young-to understand the meaning of love. At least, that's what all the 'grown-ups' say. Her laughs are periwinkle-blue, and tastes like seasaltcandy; her words, a muted teal, something tangy. But her eyes are still brighter than the world he hears, sharper than the colours he tastes.
.he is addicted.sososoaddicted.
When he first saw her, he thought of sunsets and tasted salt. But when she looked at him, for the first time in his life, he tasted nothing. It was strange, but good-strange.
Periwinkle-snow falls around them; Gin swears he's getting a toothache. She tells him stories that she doesn't remember and his world stretches at the seams with oceans under clear skies. He licks his lips, overwhelmed by the spices.
"Ichimaru... Gin. What a weird name." She whispers his name.
Gin savours the moment. Blinding\cyan\blind\bright\bitter. Sour-bitter-sourcandy-bitter. Sourcandy dunked in coffee-black coffee.
Her voice and whispers and laughs blend the brightest of rainbows, mix the strongest of tonics. And Gin knows he can't get enough. .nevernever.ever.
They grow, he grows, she grew.
Her laughs are now canary-feather-yellow, mintyfresh; thin wires that wiggle up his throat and to his brain. He crinkles his nose-not as good as before. Her voice is chocolate brown, smooth like caramel, sticksliding down his throat. He resists the urge to shiver; he misses the spice, sharppeppersharp-like. bee-like-poison. He misses the sting, the high\adrenalinerushes\caffinehigh\rushrushrush. Her whispers, no longer brilliant cyan-nono, no more blindbrightcyan-they are wine red\wine purple\wine wine\alcoholred and tastes like ironbloodbloodblood-dried-up. They are the only part of her that he still enjoys, is still addicted to.
her whispers, softsoft, slivers of blood through the other dulled-out-mulled-cider colours of the rest of the world. Still, he misses the bitterness, the brightbrightcyan. He misses it so much, toomuchtoomuchsososomuch.
He places his lips on her's and watches her eyes flutter shut. Her breath is warm, tangybitter ; cerulean-sky-blue.
"Gomen ne." The bitterness lingers, the cerulean-blue lingers. Flashflash\bright\bright\blinding blue and bitterness. His smile widens-he's found it again. She looks at him, really looks at him, and alltastes;allcolours die from existence. just.like...that.first.time-
"Gin..."
He can still taste the bitterness as he turns away; sourcandybitter. His entire world is cyan-blue.
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