my heart was wrapped up in clover

[unburden]

It's been a couple of days since a sizable group of people slipped off the map. Slipped out of sight, out of mind, out of reach. In the amount of time that Rukia's been in Darrow, she's noticed that there are some non-natives who manage to escape. Can't be much more than what she can count on a single hand, but she hasn't yet been able to figure out how it happens, or catch a trail to chase after. This time, it's much of the same. No amount of sifting through the corners seems to unearth any answers — all she knows is that there are a great many people who disappeared at once.

And losing sleep over it probably won't do much good.

The guilt remains, of course. Nestled in her chest as she sits in front of the television in the apartment, fingers tightly gripping a controller as she stares at the pixelated screen. Training digital bunnies shouldn't really be high on her list of priorities, but in some ways, it helps her unwind. It's not a big deal if they disappear or she loses track of them. It's okay to lose herself in the routine of it, to smile when their ears turn or their noses twitch. Hair still damp from a shower, Rukia shivers a little from her lack of foresight, glancing about for a throw, but the level's almost over and it's unlikely that she'll catch a cold, anyway.

So she wraps her arms more tightly around her knees and continues besting the odd blue monster with her Buneary, hardly looking up when she hears footsteps trailing into the room.

"If you block my view, I might kick you."

Comments

[unbridle]

Her gentle, soft nuzzle opens something in him, so that when he breathes in, it feels like it will go on forever, an impossibly lengthy sigh of unsettled contentment. He's happy with this, but his entire body seems to be telling him -- it could be more.

But he's not sure it should be yet, despite the liquid warmth in his belly at the sight of her as he looks at her, really takes her in. Not to check if she's okay, not to read the nuance of her expression, just to appreciate her like he's seldom allowed himself to do before. With her, with anyone.

Everything about her is telling him it's okay to stare, though

"I know I said I wanted to go. Can we stay here instead?" Like this, his eyes ask, as his face finally pulls into a smile over where her lips leave tickling warmth down the column of his neck.

[unburden]

When Rukia leans back, her gaze first fixes itself on his smile. It starts at the lips, a slight curve in the direction that Ichigo rarely allows himself, one that Rukia runs lightly over with the pad of her thumb in either direction until she meets with the slight dips at the corners, running over them with ghosted touches, as though she might smooth them out. But the smile goes beyond that curve, softens his entire expression and makes him look younger, somehow, in the face. Older in the eyes. More than anything, it makes Rukia think, and she draws slightly into herself in the process, almost shy. Certainly wanting.

"You're sure that I won't bore you?" she teases, casting a glance out the window. "The city out there is still pretty big and bustling. If you're feeling restless, I don't know." Shy again, with a flush dusting her cheeks, Rukia's gaze drops down the center of his chest as her fingers graze against the fabric of his shirt, pressing soft shadows there.