Log; Complete

[thunderwitch.livejournal.com]

When; February 24th (After this, before this.)
Rating; PG-13 (language, violence)
Characters; Cirucci {thunderwitch} & Alfons {opfern}
Summary; A cursed Alfons seeks out Cirucci in his opposite day manner, but the Privaron is nonplussed at best concerning his methods at... reconcilation.
Log;

Ishida was a real idiot. Alfons didn't even know why he had bothered with him for so long, really. He had been an obstacle. He should have just drowned him on the fourteenth after they fell into the water. He had been so inebriated...it could have been easy. Still, he would just return after twenty-four hours. What a bastard. A very stupid bastard, for making it so hard for everyone to get around the city without worrying about being attacked. Alfons didn't like having to constantly be looking over his shoulder just in case one of those monsters felt like dropping in.

There wasn't any real reason Alfons was even doing this. His little meeting with Edward that morning had at least been to benefit him, even if Ed had been difficult. Still, Alfons had never shied from challenges... How could one possibly be afraid of those in his line of work? He really did miss those days. Somehow those seemed far more exciting than his days in the city.

She probably wouldn't show up, and he pondered if that would upset him. Yes. Yes, it would, but he would get over it. Cirucci had made herself perfectly clear in regards to love, after all. Still, that wasn't why he had asked her hear. He knew not to expect much. She was such a vengeful woman, after all. He was here purely out of curiosity. ...Mostly.

Smiling to himself, Alfons folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the tree just near the entranceway to the restaurant. The same restaurant where all of this had started. The same spot she had asked that question. It was ridiculous to realize that one drunken admission had led them down the destructive path to where they were today. This was the finish line, and nobody had won.

>>>

Honestly, she only answered out of curiosity.

Cirucci had a bad habit, well, she had a lot of bad habits, mind, but the one relevant at the moment was forgetfulness. It had taken her a good few moments to even recall why this place, why that note, and even when she had, she’d been none too pleased. This was where it had spiraled out of control, where her convenient pet, maybe not pet, convenient human, dare she say, had become damn more trouble than he was worth, and put her out a cook, and a reader, and a space filler all at once.

Which was very irritating.

But he’d said love, and she couldn’t abide the thought, refused to brook with it, and after that she’d put him from mind, because, uch, love.

But she came because she couldn’t abide not knowing what he’d say, because she liked seeing people beg and she wondered if he would, and also because she got bored, bleeding from long, gouged claw marks down her pretty back from her earlier fight with the one called Krsnik, but she didn’t bother fixing or hiding it, because it was a fight one, and nothing to be ashamed of.

So when she alighted beside him, the drop of crimson on the ground accompanied her.

>>>

For wearing so much white in the dark evening, Cirucci could certainly sneak up on a person. He had been so lost in thought he hadn't even noticed her until she was right there beside him. He stiffened at the realization, then relaxed...only to tense again. Bleeding... She was bleeding. How awful. Bite off more than you can chew again? he wanted to say, but considering the rest of her looked fine, she had probably won.

It was hard to know what winning even meant anymore.

The appropriate amount of concern showed in his eyes as he pushed away from the tree. "What happened?! The Hollows?" God, he sounded so much like he cared, he almost believed it himself. Or he would have if he didn't know better.

>>>

“Pssh, please.” She dismissed the idea immediately with a wave of a bloodstained glove. “When I was a Hollow, even, I ate weaklings like this for breakfast, they’re not even Gillian class.” She rolled her eyes for good measure, tsked and smoothed her white and red skirt, stretched and gave a small wince as the tensing of her skin over bones.

“I didn’t come here for you to ask me questions.” Cirucci reminded with a toss of hair, bloody fingers moving to fix the tousled style, hip cocked and more weight on her left foot. No, that was not why she had come at all.

She’d come for revenge of her own.

>>>

Gillian class? He didn't know anything about the classes or ranks or anythin about Hollows, and he honestly didn't care. He had been hoping she would have the decency to at least shower and bandage herself before showing up, but apparently he wasn't worth the trouble. Oh, so very spiteful.

"Then what did you come here for?" Just because she was there didn't mean she was going to comply with his request. She was stubborn and unpredictable. He just hoped the bitch didn't try to kill him again or something. He was getting quite tired of that.

>>>

“To give you about two minutes to impress me enough to convince me to stay and listen to whatever new fangled thing you’ve come up with, or old issue you want revisiting.” Her answer was smooth, unapologetic, accompanied by the inspection of her finger nails.

She wondered if he’d beg, or instead be forceful, she really did wonder that, but it was easy to find out. Just indulge a little, and see where he ran.

>>>

Oh, she was so mind numbingly frustrating. How could he have ever loved a monster like her? She didn't even have the brilliance Edward did to make up for it. In fact, she was quite idiotic with most things, battle strategy and acting skills aside. "My, I'm being timed and graded now? I'm flattered."

Alfons' tone softened then, and he stepped forward, ever wary of any movements she might make. "I didn't ask you here to try and impress you. I asked you here because I owe you an apology." She had never received one, after all, because he had believed he didn't owe her one. ...And he still didn't, but he knew it she wouldn't expect it, and he knew how to sound sincere. Acting wasn't anything new to him, either.

"I wronged you by putting you in an awkward position, and went so far as to cause you pain. I should have never tried to force a heart on you. I should never have tried to force anything on you. My feelings are my burden to bear, not yours."

>>>

“No shit you did.” Her answer was immediate again, not looking up from her nails except to fix him with a stare, one eyebrow arched, and dare him to come closer. She would never forgive him for that, for placing that heart in her chest, just like she would never forgive herself her reactions, her emotions, nor Shiro-Megane-Kun the coddling she’d appreciated far too much.

“And you can give me one, but I’m pretty sure you know I’m done with you. Didn’t I kill you already, Alfons?” Her nails clicked ominously. She was an actress, at heart, and a fighter, in body, which was a dangerous combination when she cared to remember. And now she cared to, and she knew this wasn’t Alfons. She was aware of the curse, and she was all too aware he was probably affected.

She knew how Alfons Heiderich acted, after all.

>>>

"...You did. But death is hardly the end in a place like this." He didn't stop until he was just before her. Really, he didn't want to get killed again... It would be inconvenient. But it was nothing to fear. Not anymore. There was always the option of torture, but did she really have it in her? She had been so sure to make his death quick, after all.

"You wanted to reminisce before, didn't you? On the fourteenth. Aren't I allowed the same?" He glanced to her hands and the sharp nails that could end him before he could even blink. But she couldn't consider him a threat, could she? He was only human. And so he reached out, slowly and carefully, to touch her hair.

"I miss it, you know. I miss being there for you. It was fun to make food for you, and to read to you, and even nap with you. You killed me, I've apologized. Why can't we get those days back? Neither of us are gaining anything from this animosity."

>>>

Her lips pursed, and her head averted in a small huff, but she didn’t move away, though for a moment it appeared she would slap him. After all, it wouldn’t be a fun game If she played hard to get too hard. No, no, reel him in before you slit his throat. She frowned, and her eyes rolled, dismissive.

“I have a reputation, you know.” She sighed, bored. “And my reputation wouldn’t take too kindly to me taking back humans in, forgiving them, and all sorts of that mess.” Her free hand twirled a curl, flipped dark hair.

“So~”

>>>

That made him roll his eyes and drop his hand. "If you were so concerned for your reputation, you never would have allowed a human into your life in the first place. Isn't that right?" Cirucci was talented at many thing, but trying to offer up logic was certainly not one of them. Her excuses always were skewed. It was one of her more...annoying attributes. Along with a hundred others.

"You care for your reputation, but you care far more about what you gain from a situation. And you would be gaining a lot out of this. Anything you want." Looking sad, and worn, he gave her another glance. "Hasn't this grown stale?"

>>>

“… Shut up.” She muttered, swatting at his fleeting hand. “You can’t honestly think I could just forgive you. If you knew me-“ Her huff ended in a sigh, and she turned around from him, hip cocked, arms crossed under her breasts.

“Obviously, you didn’t know me.”

>>>

God, even a supposedly innocent swat from her made him wince and rub at his sore hand. Bitch. Why did he have to give a damn about people who were far stronger than him?

"Of course not. I'm not telling you to forgive me. Atonement takes time, doesn't it?" He didn't dare make another move towards her, not so idiotic as to get close to her just yet when she was being this prissy. "I could earn it over time. God knows I have all the time in the world. And speaking of, you should be thrilled to know I will be atoning. I never did tell anyone what I offered in exchange for your heart. "

A pause for effect before he murmured, "And you never asked, but I thought you might like to hear it. ...Health will be nothing but a distant memory for me. It's just like it was when I first came to this trap of a city. Air is something I suddenly prize, because I rarely get to experience the full benefit of it. And it will get worse, and more painful, until eventually it will kill me. ...And when I revive, I get to start the entire process all over again. For eternity."

Now he stepped forward, eyeing the wound on her back carefully before touching her arm. "Happy to hear it?"

>>>

She listened, head cocking with a swish of her dark hair. Dark blood dropped slow down her back, down the wounds, but she didn’t seem to be in that much pain. Or maybe she was just good at hiding it, so used to being injured. But she listened, and didn’t flinch away from his hand, only lifted her chin proudly, tossed her head again, as if refusing to look at him.

“… Maybe I am.” She shifted with a small wince, broken hierro still leaking blood, weepy. Cirucci was a proud woman, it wasn’t surpissing, her acting like this.

“You’d deserve it.”

>>>

What a vile woman. No, she didn't even have the right to be called a woman. The only things lesser than women were animals, incects... Monsters. At least she was very good at being a monster. Monsters really did need to be destroyed...but he knew it would take time with someone like her. Both her and Edward he would need to be careful about.

"Perhaps I do. I betrayed your trust, after all... And I do know you trusted me. I know you cared that I thought." He could recall several times it had come up. She had been upset when he called her a trollop. She had said herself she never wanted him to be angry with her. He wondered, truly wondered, if she had actually detached herself as much as she seemed to be.

Perhaps that was why she had turned away. Alfons was quite good at reading her eyes.

"I know it unsettled you when I admitted how I felt. But instead of dismissing it right there...you told me to kiss you. If you didn't care less, why would you have asked a question like that?" He didn't wait for her to respond, as it had been rhetorical. He continued on, voice lighter, as if dismissing it. "But nevermind that. You're injured. Let me help bandage you?"

>>>

“… Maybe I was just testing you.” She muttered darkly. Still carefully turned away, she shifted her weight, one leg to another with a swing of hips, the accompanying flinch of fresh wounds. “After all, I don’t need my humans loving me. That’s annoying as hell, I’ll have you know. Troublesome.”

Honestly, she missed it. She liked having someone around she could trust somewhat, not to tell on her, that she could be weak around, and he had been far too good at that. Far too good.
The wounds stung, but…

“And I’m fine.”

>>>

She was bending, he could tell. Her excuses were getting even more ridiculous. That alone was satisfying. Perhaps he couldn't get his way today, but he just needed time. He really, truly wanted her to suffer for the crap she had put him through. Alfons could be patient... After all, as he had only just pointed out moments ago, he had all the time in the world.

"Maybe. Perhaps it's too brash of me to say you care what I think. But I do know you liked the things I did for you. And I suppose my promises will mean nothing to you at this point, so I won't make any, but... What do you have to lose? It's not like I can ever do anything against you anymore, even if I wanted to. I have nothing left to offer the City."

This was easy, for too easy, because it came naturally to him. Because he wasn't lying...at least about most of it. "I'll do my best not to be troublesome. But I am worried about how much blood you're losing...even if you say it doesn't hurt."

>>>

“… Then do it now.” Cirucci murmured.

She still didn’t turn to face him, because she had just barely hid a sadistic smile. But she suppressed it, and shifted her weight uneasily again, chin up, eyes lidded.

“Prove it.” Prove you still want me. Prove you miss me. Prove you still want to be around me.

Prove it.

>>>

Prove it? With a kiss? That didn't prove anything, really, except that he was willing to do something now that he hadn't before. He was quite aware that this was some sort of trap. She could be using it to see if he was cursed... Which he knew many people were, but no. His eyes had simply been opened, was all. People were capable of change, even if arrancar were not.

Or it could just be a trap to slit his throat when he got close enough. Lord he hoped not. Bleeding to death like that probably took awhile, and it probably hurt all to hell.

He stepped carefully around her, keeping one hand on her arm, gauging her expression as he stopped before her. He was nervous due to the realization this could end up with him as the latest statistic, but the nerves could easily be interpreted as something else. Alfons would be nervous about actually kissing her, no matter how much he had changed, wouldn't he? He would.

She already had her head turned up, so all he needed to do was lean down, letting his free hand settle against the curve of her jaw, thumb brushing her temple. There was one last moment as he took in the look in her eyes before he let their lips touch in what she presumed to be 'sealing the deal'. Kissing was nothing new to him, and even if it had been awhile, experience was never forgotten. He didn't try to make it anything it wasn't. He didn't try to change it into something he thought she might appreciate.

Alfons simply kissed her like she was the woman he loved, and no matter how altered his views and ethics had become, or how twisted those feelings were now, the love was hardly a lie.

>>>

Cirucci didn’t move, at first.

She started to kiss back, did so, as if she would accept that, accept his apology, forgive him somehow for all he had done, but she was an actress, through and through. After all, she could fuck the other Arrancar, even the ones she hated most, and they’d be none the wiser that she wasn’t utterly devoted to their pleasures.

But then, her arm moved, quick as lightning and she didn’t pull her strength from the blow, slapped him, hard, but not before she’d bit down on his lip, equally hard.

She rubbed her wrist, twisted painted lips into a smirk.

“I’m afraid you don’t make the cut for a trollop like me, Alfons Heiderich.”

>>>

Well, it was better than getting his throat slit, but that didn't make it any more enjoyable. The force of the slap easily sent him reeling, collapsing onto his side with a grunt and a cough. It took him a moment to recover, and even then he simply sat up, the occasional cough escaping from his rattled lungs.

This was the second time in one day he'd ended up on the floor and wiping blood from his mouth. Gosh, what fun. At least they kept him guessing. Nothing was worse than boredom.

"I'm not really sure what you were expecting, Cirucci," he whispered as he stared up at her. "I'm not one of the arrancar. I can't hurt you or humiliate you, nor would I want to. I've told you time and time again, I don't see you as a trollop. That was a mistake, one of many I've made. I'm only human, and humans are flawed."

Perhaps it would have been smarter to stay down, but humans were also stubborn, and so he staggered up, resting his hand against the tree for balance. He couldn't wait for the bruise tomorrow. "What were you expecting?" It was worth repeating.

>>>

“Nothing.” She hissed back, wiping her mouth on the back of her gloved hand. “I expect nothing from you.” But the triumphant smirk still stayed, however falsely, on her face. She shook her hand out, then, and shot a disgruntled noise directed at her wounds.

“I don’t know if you’re cursed today.” Cirucci tugged on the fabric of her glove, adjusting.

“And frankly? I don’t give a shit. I’m tired of this.” She smirked. “I’m tired of you calling that a mistake. And I’m tired of humans. I should eat you right now, actually.”

She paused.

“… That’s a great idea.” And she approached, smiling too benevolently to be true. … She was always hungry, after all.

>>>

Well, that was actually a result he hadn't considered in advance, and he had considered several. Sometimes he did forget about that little trick of hers... After all, she had never threatened to use it on him. He could remember a time, not so long ago, that he had never even believed she would hurt him.

Fate had a funny way of showing it's humor.

"I suppose I can't get out of this one by offering to bake a cake." Oh yes, he was very much joking, and he hardly sounded threatened. It wasn't that he didn't think she would do it. He simply seemed to...not care. After all, he had condemned himself to hell for her. He had let her kill him. Why would Alfons even dream of denying her this?

>>>

“Not in the slightest.” Small hands fisted in his shirt, hauled him up straighter. It was so easy to find his soul. Too easy. It was right there for the taking. And he owed it to her. He owed her this and more. More than he could ever pay back. More than anyone could.

The Arrancar didn’t say another word, she merely latched on and tugged. With a nice fresh meal in her, she’d be able to ignore the pain in her back long enough to fight Shiro-Megane-Kun.

With that delightful thought, she began to feed.