A Pair of Sunglasses
Enormous Love Aikawa is standing before you can even say what you have. His brown eyes are the color of milk chocolate and when he puts his sunglasses back on, you can’t help but feel deprived.
Yup. You love Love, as weird as it sounds. Back when he was in Soul Society, he’d protected you from a Hollow—ripped it right in half. If you had to pick a moment in time when you’d realized Love Aikawa was the perfect guy for you, that would be it.
It wasn’t that you weren’t strong—you could trash a Gillian-class Hollow all by yourself, and probably hold up against one of the Arrancar for a few minutes, but you’d been surprised and pinned, waiting for the Hollow to kill you. Love had crashed into the thing’s side and it had flown off, its talons ripping free of your torso. You were free, but once Love saw the blood on the Hollow’s claws, he’d taken it down.
Once it was gone, he’d come back over to you and asked if you were alright, his inscrutable eyes hidden behind his mirrored sunglasses. The same stupid sunglasses that he’d just put back on.
At this point in time you realized you were staring, possibly drooling, at Love’s handsome face. Mentally slapping yourself, you stand up straight and smile at him. “Uh, I’ll meet you inside!” With that, you hurtle into the broom closet, ears burning.
Gran watches you go, grinning evilly. For a grandmother, she had a mind made up of smutty romance novels, a bit of old-fashioned butt-whoop, and quite a bit of sheer inappropriateness. That was probably why you loved her so much.
Once you’re in the closet you lean in one corner, trying to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible. Hopefully Love will forget you’re in the room…
You curse yourself out for being a coward—after all, who would have known Ichigo Kurosaki could have become a great Soul Reaper if he hadn’t given it a shot? So with that in mind, you decide to give Love (physically and metaphorically) a chance.
The door opens a moment later and Love’s wide shoulders fill the frame, blocking out a great deal of light. His characteristic dark turquoise jogging suit (very different from his Shinigami uniform) cuddles his obviously rather developed arms and chiseled abs. You make something of a sound that comes out as “Meep.”
Love raises an eyebrow. “You alright?”
“Yeah, fine,” you say numbly, because you’ve just realized what a physically big and strong man Love actually is—he’s over six feet tall and could probably throw you into the next county, just like he did to that Hollow.
Gran shuts the door with a cheery bang and the last bit of light is violently extinguished.
You hear Love lean against the opposite side of the closet, and you can just imagine him exuding coolness from every pore, his mirrored sunglasses mocking the world’s attempt to read him. His arms are folded across his chest, his head leaned slightly to one side… And you realize your eyes are adjusting to the dark and you actually can see him.
If you can see him, it logically follows that he can see you—although with the sunglasses on he might not be able to see anything. Who wears sunglasses inside, anyway? If you weren’t so worried he’d notice you, you would have stomped across the small space and ripped them off his face.
“So, _______...”
His voice is amazing. You resist the urge to melt into a puddle at his feet.
“Have the wounds from that Hollow healed?” The question sounds vaguely… awkward, as if he’s trying to make conversation, but can’t think of what to say. After almost a century, it would make sense that a few deep gouges would have healed up; the scars were probably gone too. In fact, your skin was completely mark-free.
“Yeah. I, er, never got to thank you for saving me. It was really brave.”
“It wasn’t brave. It was all I could do.”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“Bravery is doing something, even if you’re afraid. I wasn’t scared of that Hollow,” Love answered. You could see a muscle in his jaw tic. “I was scared of losing you.”
He pulls off his sunglasses, while you’re still sufficiently shell-shocked, and gazes piercingly into your eyes. “I’m not trying to be romantic. That’s Rose’s bit. I’m just telling the truth.”
“Why are you afraid of losing me, if you’re not in love with me?” You ask, perplexed.
“I didn’t say that.” He sounds vaguely irritated as he slips his sunglasses back on. “I’m not getting an innocent girl mixed up in what I do—especially not one whose grandmother works for my ex-employers.”
Scowling, you fold your arms across your chest. “Isn’t that for me to decide?”
“I’m not pulling you into this, ________.”
Was it possible to love a man and want to kill him at the same time? You tightened your arms across your chest, furious with him. “Love, it isn’t your decision!” With a furious stomp of your foot, you stalk across the closet, draw yourself up to your full height, and glower at his sunglasses. You then whip them off so you can see his eyes. “Listen up, Aikawa. I’m mixing myself up in Visored business, and if you’ve got a problem, you can shove it up your---“
The following words have been censored for the reader, but they weren’t for Love. He stares down at you, his chocolate brown eyes wide. “Are you serious?”
He’s a manga buff, just like Rose, you remember, so you shout out the first thing that comes to your mind—an English-dubbed catchphrase from a popular anime. “Believe it!”
His lips are touched with a smile, and when you grab him by the back of the neck to kiss him, he doesn’t resist, but welcomes the warmth of your lips. His fingers creep down your sides to settle on your hips. Sweet heat rides up your spine as Love swipes his tongue across your closed lips, then nudges them apart for an appropriately deep, passion-filled kiss. You got your man—all six-plus feet of him.
Wrapping his immensely powerful arms around you, Love kisses you deeply, his mouth tightly fused to yours. “I’ll never let anything hurt you again.”
“Because you love me? I love you,” you say softly.
“Yes, because I love you.” His luscious lips find yours again just as Gran opens the door to check on your progress.
“Ha! Told you they’d be goin’ at it! Pay up, Shinji!”
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