"Like I can't take you. It's not a problem," he mumbles out, before starting as Rukia's wet, soft thumb is abruptly pressed against the corner of his lips, dragging away the white grit of the icing. A simple touch, a familiar one, like many that they've shared through necessity.
But not necessary. And just enough like the touch of her lips might be that Ichigo can't help but start to compare the two. And to wonder. Not for the first time. But directly. Not a wandering schoolboy fantasy, quickly reeled in, but a flash of real, knowing consideration, and a pressing need to have an actual answer.
He has to force it away, and pray that the surprise doesn't show on his face, and Ichigo clears his throat and turns away from her in his seat feeling weirdly guilty as he gives a small shake of his head and sets his fork down.
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Date: 2012-07-23 05:40 am (UTC)But not necessary. And just enough like the touch of her lips might be that Ichigo can't help but start to compare the two. And to wonder. Not for the first time. But directly. Not a wandering schoolboy fantasy, quickly reeled in, but a flash of real, knowing consideration, and a pressing need to have an actual answer.
He has to force it away, and pray that the surprise doesn't show on his face, and Ichigo clears his throat and turns away from her in his seat feeling weirdly guilty as he gives a small shake of his head and sets his fork down.
"What was that for?" he asks.