I feel myself breaking. My body, my mind, my heart, everything's aching, and burning, and it hurts. It's so painful, when he leaves, when he walks out on me, it almost breaks me. Like a hammer jamming itself deep into my skull, it feels, and soon, my soul wouldn't be able to take much more. Why? Why did it feel like this? I promised myself I wouldn't fall for a man like him. It was impossible. But yet…How?

I couldn't fathom it.

But yet, it's so true it's sickening.

The way he moves, the way he walks, I hate it. The way he speaks, the way he acts, I hate it worse. But the thing I hate the most, out of all, would be when he walks out on me. It sickens me. It sickens me that I still come back to me. It sickens me that I collapse into his arms after a lustful night of sex, it sickens me when he smirks and kisses my forehead, and yes he has to go, it sickens me when he takes the initiative to walk out that door, over and over. He was a sex fiend; and he wasn't mine.

I hated it.

I hated the thought of him banging some other helpless woman or man other than me. I hated the thought of the pleasure given to the both of them. Did he like sex from others better than him? Was he bad? Was he not enough? Was it because he was poor?

It sickened me.

I hated it.

Who does he think he is? What does he think he is? He believes he's in control of me. And he's probably right. But why? Why did it have to be that way? Why did I have to love him? It was still impossible. Look, I'm repeating myself over and over. Why? Why did he make me this love struck, this angry about myself?

Damn him and his cocky, arrogant smirk.

Damn him and his unruly teal hair.

Damn him and his pearly white teeth.

Damn him and his electric blue eyes.

Damn Grimmjow Jeagerjaques to the pits of hell.

I hate him.

I swear.

Always, he would come to me, we would have sex, and then he would leave. We were nothing more than casual sex buddies, and I abhorred the fact of thinking myself as one, but I was. Friends with benefits - minus the friend's part. We never hang out other than in the bedroom, we never talk to each other as we pass in our college; quite frankly, no one even knew we messed around with each other other than his own friends who he brags to.

It's quite sad.

His friends commonly made fun of me. I had no friends, I was an awkward kid, I was a nothing. I still am, from what Grimmjow and his gang say. But who am I to deny it? They have friends, I don't. They have casual sex; I don't let anyone other than Grimmjow touch me. I should just start whoring myself out. Maybe I'll get more friends that way.

Break.

"Grimmjow!" Ichigo screamed out as he bucked his sweat-covered, tan, flawless skin upwards, shouting out his release with a strangled cry. Grimmjow grunted as he too poured his seed into me, which made me shiver at the always strange feeling presented to me. I lay on the bed, restless, already closing my eyes, not bothering to wonder if he was going to stay. He wasn't. It's not like I cared. I let my lids drop like lead weights. That blue-haired bastard always did that to me after sex.

When I didn't feel the crushing weight on me seize, I peeked open one eye. In shock, I noticed the blue-haired man was still there, watching me with something keen to a curious wonder. I gave him a strange, tired look as I closed my eyes.

I sighed. "What're you still doing here?" I commented softly, avoiding his face entirely.

Grimmjow grunted again. "Too tired to move." He grumbled out softly as his face rested on my toned chest. I let one eye open again in curiously, feeling an odd pang in my heart at the comment.

"You were never too tired before." I said rather bitterly, even harshly, if you think about it.

Grimmjow didn't reply for the longest time, and just when about I was accustomed to sleep, he spoke. "I just feel like it. So shut up." Grimmjow spoke out as he rolled off of me. I turned my body to face away from him, successfully hiding the blush on my face as I buried my head into the sheets provided to me. After a few seconds of silence, a large, toned arm wrapped around my waist, sending a shock wave throughout my body.

"Don't say anything, just fucking sleep." The blue-haired teenage spoke out crudely. I didn't bother replying.

With a stupid, silly grin on my face, I finally grew too tired to respond, and ended up passing out.

Break.

Within the next week he was still staying. Sometimes longer than others, but still, there he was. Each time he did, I ended up grinning and hiding my face, trying to keep that blue-haired man from seeing my utter delight. I loved it when he wrapped his arms around me, probably not meaning to be lovingly, but still, and when his breath became even with sleep against my ear, or sometimes neck. It was intoxicating.

I loved it.

I loved when his lips ghosted over my neck unconsciously as he slept, or when his arms tightened around me, or even when he shivered slightly. Everything he did next to me made me happy; sometimes aroused; and the feelings only were intoxicating. I even lost sleep, sometimes, but to hell if I gave a shit. Cuz' I didn't. I was thoroughly satisfied.

But then it all went down the drain.

It was when Grimmjow's friend, Nnoitra, decided to walk in. Now, usually, they were at Ichigo's home, but for some reason Grimmjow invited him over to his place. I should've known it was a bad idea to begin with, but my stupid happiness got in the way of a thing know as thinking.

Yeah.

You guessed right.

Remember when I told you that Grimmjow's friend were just pot-heads who had casual sex? Well, maybe not the pot-head part, but you know what I mean. Well, yeah. Anyway, that's all that Nnoitra thought, or would even consider, that we were. He would not accept anything else other than that.

"What the fuck?"

Nnoitra was there, like, bam! All of a sudden, at a random time, when Grimmjow was leisurely sleeping next to me, I looked up and saw the dark-haired man, surprised to see a line of fury burrowing themselves in his dark, beady eyes. My heart skipped a beat at that moment. I stared.

"N-Nnoitra?" I stuttered, shocked, at the man before me. I sat up in bed, my naked body being half revealed to the other man as the blankets tumbled near my waist. "What're you doing here?"

"Wrong question, bitch." Nnoitra sneered. "What the fuck're you doin' here, hm?" He snarled at me rudely. Nnoitra crept up towards the bed, dripping intimidation, as I shrank back in a bit of fear. Normally, I wouldn't think of doing something such as cowering, but it was…It was still Grimmjow's friend. I didn't want to hurt Grimmjow by hurting him.

"I-I-…Um, I-" I stuttered out as he leaned in towards me, a breath away from my face. I gulped out as my eyes widened in sheer horror.

"Get the fuck out of this bed now." Nnoitra hissed to me. "And don't wake him up."

I complied without a question.

I didn't bother trying to find clothes, for I was even scared to move. The man's intimidating gaze held me to the spot. I couldn't move. It was silent. A heartbeat was heard. Was that mine, or his? I couldn't tell. And quite frankly, I honestly didn't want to. Sucking in a breath, I looked over at the tall man now about four feet away, and clenched my fists. "W-What are you here for?" I asked him quietly. When his eyes narrowed, obviously mad, I flinched.

I didn't expect him to hit me.

I cried out, suddenly, half and shock, and the other half in pain, as I fell to the floor in a mess of skin. My eyes, shocked and upset, traveled up to the seething man above me.

"Did I say ya could speak ta me, slut?" Nnoitra hissed out quietly, careful not to wake the sleeping bluenette. I looked down, my mind clouded, as the tall being stood before me in utter control. I almost sneered at myself for being as weak as I was at the moment, but Grimmjow wouldn't want me to hit Nnoitra...So I wouldn't. I gulped out as I realized the situation.

I was about to be pulverized.

When the next hit came, I cried out as I sprawled out on the floor, my vision blurring as my head hit the wooden floor. I vaguely felt the blood running down my head, but I didn't look, I didn't even bother to move, as a whimper escaped my lips. The dark-haired asshole began to kick me in the ribs harshly, making me grunt out in pain over and over. When he struck me rather brutally, I whimpered pathetically, feeling the crushing pain of a rib breaking inside of me.

"You dirty, filthy, son of a bitch, ya think ya can jus' come in an' change Grimmjow, can ya?" He hissed out as he kicked harder, more rapidly, more harsh. I started crying out uncontrollably, my mind blanking out as he just kept coming and coming.

"Mmn…What?" I heard the voice of my deepest desire grumble out tiredly. As I try to glance over on the bed, I see Grimmjow, mildly awake, gripping for the air. "Ichi…Where are ya?" Mumbled out as he peeks an eye open. Nnoitra stops in mid-kick.

I feel his gaze lock with mine, not because I can see the difference between his eyes and face, but because I feel the burning intensity of a sudden shock and anger engulf us both. Nnoitra is staring like a deer caught in headlights at the bluenette.

"What. The. Fuck. Is goin' on here?" Grimmjow hisses through narrowed teeth, jumping up in bed. Me; being on the ground, with two tall, broad men hovering over me, made me very uncomfortable and scared.

"Nuthin', Grimm. I was jus' showin' this bitch his place." Nnoitra bluntly stated as I continued to whimper on the floor. Grimmjow's eyes narrowed considerably as he growled at the other, his body moving in mummy-like strides as he got up of the bed and strutted over to the dark haired man; naked.

"Care to run that by me again, Nnoitra?" Grimmjow snarled as he got up in the lanky man's face.

"I sai-"

Nnoitra didn't even get to finish before I heard an ear-splitting cry echo throughout the room. I assumed Grimmjow hit Nnoitra in some way, but I didn't even notice due to my eyes staying bloody and closed. Without opening them, I continued to listen in on the conversation. Moving to was too hard, so this was just about all I could do.

"I don't give a fuck about what ya said, Nnoitra. Back the fuck away from Ichigo before I rip you a new one." I heard another cry. Mentally, I smirked, glad to know that Nnoitra got what was coming to him.

I coughed a bit, blood spooling from my mouth in little bits. I could taste the coppery substance slide down and back up my throat.

After what seemed like forever, and another thirty cries later, the door slammed shut. A form hurried over to me and kneeled. I could feel the warmth of what I assumed was Grimmjow suddenly envelope me as I was pulled up into the air. "Shit, Ichi, hang on. Please, hang on." Grimmjow uttered out more to himself as I coughed up some more blood. The last thing I heard before my conscious was taken away from me made me want to stay awake.

"Ya can't leave me, ya promised."

Break. Grimmjows POV.

I couldn't think of anything else other than Ichigo at that moment. I couldn't think of my anger towards that motherfucker, Nnoitra, I couldn't think of our amazing sex last night, I couldn't think of my work, nothing, nothing ran throughout my mind but Ichigo.

Ya see, I didn't expect to become so attached to this orangette of mine. I didn't want to, quite frankly. Fuck no, it wasn't because I was scared…I think, but the fact that commitment was such a hard word for me. I didn't even know how to define it. So when this fiery orange-haired spit-fire walked into my life without a care, I had no idea how to think of it. He was a new thing, at once, for me, a fling that I was happy to bed.

But then that grew.

All of a sudden, we are starting to fuck more often, then almost every day, and then every day. I couldn't get enough of it. He was entirely intoxicating. I was like…Woah.

And then I noticed the looks he gave me as I picked up my stuff and left.

It hurt me, I'll admit that, to see that depressed look on his face, but he never addressed it. I didn't want him to. I was too…I don't know what the fuck it was, but I didn't want to talk about it with him. Our sex-only relationship was working for me before, so why change it now? I thought of this constantly, but I noticed, more and more, that I didn't like that look on the orangette's face. So, more often and more often, I found myself getting guilty.

Then I stayed the night with him.

He was trying to hide it, I know, but he just looked so…happy when I stayed. I felt guilty. A man like him doesn't need someone like me around, I could crush him into so many little pieces it wasn't even funny. No, not his body, because he could beat me in a fight, but…It was his should, his heart that I was worried about. Yeah, I'm on the sentimental shit right now. Don't judge, okay? I'm going through a lot of shit. I deserve to talk about this once in a while.

But he was happy, and I was greedy. I kept him around, and stayed over more often, and all of a sudden, words passed through my lips that I wanted him to come to my place. Shocked at my own straightforwardness and the ability to open up, he gladly complied.

It was the best sex I've ever had in my life.

And then…

And then….

I wake up to that.

Ichigo was on the floor, already battered, bruised, and bloody. I saw red. I saw black. I saw Nnoitra's face. Anger took hold of me. I beat the living shit out of him, and then kicked him out. I drove Ichigo to a hospital. He was unconsciousness. I could barely hear his breathing, and it made me worried.

So here I am now, in this god-forsaken white place, waiting for Ichigo to be cleared. I didn't expect to hear anything other than progress come from the doctor's lips.

"He is in a coma."

My heart stopped.

What?

No.

No.

No no no.

No.

He wasn't. He couldn't be. I wouldn't allow it. He couldn't leave me like this.

"He may never wake up."

My own breathing became labored. Fuck. Fuck, no. this couldn't be happening.

No.

God, god, no.

I couldn't think of anything else. My mind was blown. My blood ran ice-cold. My brain stopped working. My legs, they fell from under me. I collapsed on the ground. There was nothing. I couldn't feel anything. Where was the doctor again? I couldn't tell. Where was Ichigo? I wanted to see him. I want to touch him, I want to fuck him, I want him to be back again. I couldn't…I wouldn't accept this. No, not like this.

"I'm sorry." The doctor said, as if he was already dead. I choked on my own spit. No. Ichigo was a fighter, he would surpass this. He would wake up, tomorrow, see, and walk home, and we would fuck, and for heaven's sake, I would stay.

But it didn't happen the next day.

Nor the next.

Nor that month.

Nor that year.

I was bad now. I felt like shit. Three years later, and Ichigo still hasn't woken up. I keep paying his hospital bills, keeping him in there, but they were getting impatient. They said he wouldn't wake up. He would. I wouldn't accept no for an answer.

Another two years passed.

I was skinny. I was drunk most of the time. The only time I sobered up was to pay the bills. My friends were gone. Good – I didn't need them.

The next year arrived.

I was sitting on my bed, Ichigo's bed, our bed.

And then I got that call.

I'd been waiting for years, years, to hear those words spoil out from the phone. "He is awake." Within ten minutes I was at the hospital. The doctors gave me both sympathic and happy looks due to the fact Ichigo was awake, and the fact I looked worse than shit.

I went into his room. "Grimm…jow?"

I haven't heard his voice in so long.

I broke down. Crying, I was, at his bedside, for hours on end, nothing but Ichigo's soothing cooing helping my sane side.

"Grimmjow…I'm confused. Why am I here?" Ichigo asks me. I sniffle and run a hand through my hair.

"Ichigo…How old are you?"

The orangette raised an eyebrow as if I were crazy. "21." He stated matter-of-factly. I leaned back and closed my eyes, preparing for an explanation.

"Ichigo, you're 28 now." I stated. I looked into his eyes as they widened comically, his now-long hair tumbling in front of his face. He noticed this, and ran his fingers through his hair. The only thing they kept persistent on was shaving his face, so that was clean as ever.

"W-wha-!" Ichigo cried out in panic. I shush him with a hug, running my fingers through his hair.

"Shut up and let me explain." I state ruggedly. The orangette kept silent. I took a deep breath. "Seven years ago, you were attacked by my friend, Nnoitra." I calmly state, not trying to hide my distain. Ichigo looked surprised, so I don't think he remembered that. "You were bad. Apparently, with a couple broken ribs, a shattered hip, and a severe concussion, your body couldn't handle the strain, so you fell into a coma." I summarize for him.

He stared at me like I grew another head.

"Oh…Oh, god, Grimm, I'm so sorry…" Ichigo surprisingly said. I stare at him, shocked as fuck, wondering why the hell he was apologizing to me.

"What?" I found myself asking.

"I…I promised I wouldn't leave you and I…and I…" Ichigo trailed off as he burst into tears. I give him a very disapproving look as I growl warningly at him. But, even though my logic said to be upset, I was still happy to know he remembered something from so long ago, yet so close to the beating. It showed he didn't need as much help besides physical and counseling.

"Ichigo, shut up." I say to him in something keen to annoyance. I didn't want to talk about this with Ichigo when had just awoken.

"Okay." Ichigo said as he continued to cry.

I fell asleep with him in my arms.

Break.

We put him into physical therapy first. For months on end, he couldn't gain the ability to use his legs, so he spent most of his time still at the hospital. I didn't mind. I helped him, sometimes, with the walking thing. I let him lean on me as he attempted to walk, I chuckled when he got frustrated with his legs, I frowned at how weak his punches were, and I was just…able to be with him.

I was so, fucking, happy.

He was able to walk the next year. I then put him in counseling and weight\agility training. I didn't know what happened in counseling – I wasn't allowed to – but I was the one who taught him how to fight and lift again. Within a few months, Ichigo's fighting techniques were back to normal, due to the fact his memory was coming back. His muscles, however, still weak, took a few years to regenerate. I didn't mind. I had forever with him.

Five years later, I lay in bed with Ichigo, much like before, after my first round of sex for twelve years. When he was in a coma, I refused to let anyone else touch me, and the other five years, he wasn't able to physical stuff like that.

But now, oh, now, it felt so good. To have my arms around him, protected, and his body warm and alive.

I realized I wasn't scared anymore.

"Ichigo?" I ask quietly, wondering if he was still awake.

"Hm?" The orangette asked as he swiveled over to look at me. He looked normal again. I grinned and pecked him on the lips.

"Y'know, I've been waiting twelve years to say this." I started off. "You fucking changed my life with a bat of your eye, and at first, I resented you for it, but now, I remember I was just scared. I was horrified. I was never good with the relationship shit, so it wasn't…I mean…I didn't know what to act, say, or do." I summarized. "I knew you felt used, but I didn't know how to get what I was feeling across."

I continued as I closed my eyes. "But you made me feel better. And it killed me, over and over, to see you depressed. So, I realized I liked you more than I wanted to. But I didn't want to stop, so I pursued." With a deep, subtle breath, I opened them back up and stared into the watering eyes of my Lover. "But you are everything to me, Ichigo, you are everything. And now that I have you back, I can finally say…"

As Ichigo broke down into tears, I kissed him, and muttered, softly, slowly, everything against my nature….

"That I love you."