Ichigo didn't respond. He couldn't. He could barely get his breath under control, much less think about things like words, or the sort of focus it takes to make words work in the silent way.
He'd been hurt, angry, then hurt worse, then fighting, then ripped back, and forth between being half-hollwfied, had angry, aggressive sex...and finally his soul had righted itself when the dry sobs spent themselves in Shiro's chest. But he was tired...so very tired. The mess could wait. The rest of the emotional clusterfuck that was his ties to Shiro, and Rukia could wait. He needed just a little bit of quiet...just...a little...
Love you
And without further ado, Ichigo was asleep with his head tucked under Shiro's chin. The hollow had very slow, to no heartbeat, but he was a solid, reassuring presence, and Ichigo didn't particularly want to stop touching Shiro for a very long time to come, anyway.
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He'd been hurt, angry, then hurt worse, then fighting, then ripped back, and forth between being half-hollwfied, had angry, aggressive sex...and finally his soul had righted itself when the dry sobs spent themselves in Shiro's chest. But he was tired...so very tired.
The mess could wait. The rest of the emotional clusterfuck that was his ties to Shiro, and Rukia could wait. He needed just a little bit of quiet...just...a little...
Love you
And without further ado, Ichigo was asleep with his head tucked under Shiro's chin. The hollow had very slow, to no heartbeat, but he was a solid, reassuring presence, and Ichigo didn't particularly want to stop touching Shiro for a very long time to come, anyway.