( it happens all too quickly — pathetically quickly, if he was honest.
he didn't expect the gap to be this wide, yet before he could register what was happening and react to it, he was getting flung around like a rag doll. forced into the defensive, he could only do so much to shield himself from the rapid attacks, his hierro barely managing to keep him from sustaining critical damage to his body. at a certain point, a disconcerting thought enters his mind: from the moment they started fighting, not once has he been on the offensive.
he doesn't know how long the battle was fought or when it exactly took place during it, but he soon lost consciousness. the last memory he has is of the sharp whistle of wind in his ears as he fell, his vision growing hazy and the world gradually fading to pitch black.
when he awoke next, he was no longer outside in the cold, dreary landscape of the shadowlands but somewhere warm and quiet.
his body felt heavy like it was crushed beneath several tons of steel beams. ignoring the cacophony of pain strumming through various parts of him in a continuous offbeat crescendo, grimmjow forces his eyes open and pushes up onto his elbows to get a bearing on where he is.
the split caricature of karakura town and the soul society mashed together tells him that he is back in ichigo's room.
the boy must have carried him here. what a soft-hearted fool. speaking of said fool, he can hear his steady breathing beside him. grimmjow glances down at a bed of spiky orange hair before he shifts his gaze over to the bandages covering his wounds.
damnit.
pitiful. pitiful pitiful pitiful. he hated ichigo's kindness. hated his sympathy. hated the way he left him behind, growing stronger all on his own. he wanted to kill him for it, to hurt him as much as he has hurt him. he could do it now, while he sleeps so blissfully unaware next to him. it would serve him right too, for inviting a beast into his home.
if he eats him, his powers are bound to soar to new lengths and even greater heights.
but instead, grimmjow allows his arms to give way and he flops back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling expressionless. seconds tick pass. he turns his face to look at the boy. then without much ado, he curls his left hand into a fist, lifts it up and bonks him right on top of his stupid ass head. )
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he didn't expect the gap to be this wide, yet before he could register what was happening and react to it, he was getting flung around like a rag doll. forced into the defensive, he could only do so much to shield himself from the rapid attacks, his hierro barely managing to keep him from sustaining critical damage to his body. at a certain point, a disconcerting thought enters his mind: from the moment they started fighting, not once has he been on the offensive.
he doesn't know how long the battle was fought or when it exactly took place during it, but he soon lost consciousness. the last memory he has is of the sharp whistle of wind in his ears as he fell, his vision growing hazy and the world gradually fading to pitch black.
when he awoke next, he was no longer outside in the cold, dreary landscape of the shadowlands but somewhere warm and quiet.
his body felt heavy like it was crushed beneath several tons of steel beams. ignoring the cacophony of pain strumming through various parts of him in a continuous offbeat crescendo, grimmjow forces his eyes open and pushes up onto his elbows to get a bearing on where he is.
the split caricature of karakura town and the soul society mashed together tells him that he is back in ichigo's room.
the boy must have carried him here. what a soft-hearted fool. speaking of said fool, he can hear his steady breathing beside him. grimmjow glances down at a bed of spiky orange hair before he shifts his gaze over to the bandages covering his wounds.
damnit.
pitiful. pitiful pitiful pitiful. he hated ichigo's kindness. hated his sympathy. hated the way he left him behind, growing stronger all on his own. he wanted to kill him for it, to hurt him as much as he has hurt him. he could do it now, while he sleeps so blissfully unaware next to him. it would serve him right too, for inviting a beast into his home.
if he eats him, his powers are bound to soar to new lengths and even greater heights.
but instead, grimmjow allows his arms to give way and he flops back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling expressionless. seconds tick pass. he turns his face to look at the boy. then without much ado, he curls his left hand into a fist, lifts it up and bonks him right on top of his stupid ass head. )
WAKE UP. You're pissin' me off!