Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Bleach Ficlets: Dare To Live ❯ 27 Notions & Threads ( Chapter 27 )

Authors Note: I don't own Bleach and make no claims on it. If I did, there'd be a whole hell of a lot of kinky shit going down.

 

27Notions & Threads

 

I still couldn't believe that Ichigo hadn't told me what that day was. Not knowing about something that obviously still had a huge impact on Ichigo's life only further underlined what was wrong with our relationship. If fighting Hollows and sometimes sleeping together could be called a relationship. I could fully admit to wanting more than what we'd had and it wasn't just the occasional sex I was talking about. I thought we were close and shared things but I'd always had the feeling that Ichigo was holding back on me. I now knew that was true but, I hadn't realized how much he was holding himself apart from me and that hurt.

 

I still wanted to be his friend but I hadn't seen him in over a week since I'd put an end to our romantic relationship. Perhaps that was a little cowardly of me but I was also a little mad that he hadn't let me in to share something like that after everything we'd been through together. I sighed and hefted the bolt of cloth under my arm. I intended to present Ichigo with a hand made shirt as part of my apology for breaking off our relationship on that particular day.

 

I headed for the cutting table with my bolt. The colour would compliment Ichigo's eyes nicely and I figured that by the time I'd finished sewing him the shirt, I'd have come up with a decently worded apology without sounding like I was blaming him for not sharing personal things with me. I was even going to leave off the Quincy crosses to show Ichigo that I was sincere. Well, maybe I'd put a tiny one on the hem, on the inside, where he wouldn't notice. Like a master signing his work. I smiled, pleased with the idea. Now I needed to find some nice embroidery thread. Maybe in a complimentary colour or something a shade or two darker than the fabric I'd chosen.

 

With my cut fabric under my arm, I made my way to the section of the store where the embroidery supplies were located. My eyes widened. I'd never purchased embroidery floss from this store. The selection was huge not only in colour but type. There was silk and cotton thread as well as delicate thread made of actual gold and silver in a locked case. My fingers almost itched to touch them all and I think I might have moaned softly in pleasure. My breathing sped up a fraction and want settled in my belly. My friends would probably laugh if they knew I got damn near orgasmic over things like these.

 

I stepped back from the case, reminding myself that no matter how beautiful the metal threads were, they would scratch against Ichigo's skin and my budget couldn't afford them. A disappointed sigh left me as I backed away from the case and into somebody behind me. I heard a brief grunt of pain when my heel came down on their toes and I staggered sideways trying to keep my balance and not drop any of the materials and notions in my arms. I was saved from spilling my material and ending up on my ass by a strong hand wrapping around my upper arm and steadying me.

 

“I'm sorry. I didn't see….” I started as I turned to face the person who'd kept me from doing a face plant and dropping my things on the floor.

 

“Don't worry about it.”

 

I blinked and shoved my glasses up my nose. If I'd been told I was going to run into him in a craft store browsing the embroidery section, I'd have laughed myself silly and thought the one suggesting it was stark raving mad. I looked like I belonged. He looked like he was there to check out the store for a future robbery. Maybe he was in the store with somebody else. That idea died a swift death when I noticed several hanks of floss in his hand along with an embroidery hoop. I snapped my mouth closed when he reached past me for some silk floss in a lovely shade of sapphire blue.

 

“What are you doing here?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

 

The barest hint of a smile twitched his lips. “I assume you mean the store. I need supplies to finish a project and this place has the best price on floss and the best selection of colours and material. What are you doing here?”

 

Finish a project? He did crafts? No way. Somebody put him up to this. Probably one of those damn Shinigami trying to yank my chain again over a guy doing crafts. I'll bet it was Abarai or maybe that Madarame guy. I narrowed my eyes at him in suspicion and ignored his question. “What kind of project?”

 

He studied my expression for a moment and that tiny smile played over his mouth again. He leaned in close to me and reached a hand into the front pocket of the sleeveless hoodie he was wearing. I tensed a little, not sure what he was reaching for. He pulled a piece of dove grey cotton from the pocket and carefully unfolded it to reveal a sleeveless shirt with a nearly complete design down one side of the front panel.

 

I sucked in a sharp breath. I was good but this was a level of skill I could only hope to achieve after decades of dedicated practice. Hell butterflies in shades of black-green, black-blue and black-purple fluttered in a sky dotted with stars and the crescent moon. A sliver of the sun peaked over the horizon tingeing the sky near the bottom of the shirt in soft pinks, reds, oranges and purples. The stitches were tiny and perfect. The details were exquisite; from the French knots making up the stars to the tiny bullion knots for the ends of the butterfly's antenna. I'd never seen anything so beautiful outside of a museum and I reached out a hand to touch it before jerking back without making contact. I didn't want to possibly dirty the piece when such care and skill had been put into it.

 

“It's beautiful,” I said in a soft voice that might have had a touch of reverence to it.

 

The tiny smile I'd seen moments before bloomed and his eyes filled with pride and delight. Oh dear lord, he was quite a handsome man when he smiled. I blinked and wondered where the hell that thought came from. It was completely unexpected. I shoved my glasses back up the bridge of my nose feeling a little flustered. I think the combination of seeing such outstanding work and his smile transforming him into a striking man was doing funny things to my libido. Who'd have thought that a ruffian like him, with tattoos and scars on his face, could look that good? Who'd have thought a hooligan like Hisagi Shuuhei could do such beautiful, delicate work? He folded the piece carefully and tucked it back into the front pocket of his hoodie. He looked at me intently for a moment before grabbing the hem of his hoodie and pulling it up.

 

“What about this one?”

 

I made a soft sound of appreciation in the back of my throat. Under the hoodie Hisagi wore a sky blue shirt of sueded silk with a sakura tree in full bloom embroidered on it. Delicate, pale pink petals drifted down from the tree. I leaned in for a closer look at a bright flash of red near the base of the tree and smiled at the tiny fox curled up asleep and half covered with the petals. My finger traced the satiny line of the fox's back and I hummed with pleasure at the feel of the smooth stitches under my finger and the heat from Hisagi's body. Hisagi inhaled quietly at the touch and I jerked my hand back with a blush. Touching someone so intimately without their permission was just…. I'd never been so rude in all my life.

 

“I'm sorry. That was very discourteous of me. It's just so beautifully done and I've never seen such fine work up close before and….” I trailed off as I pushed my glasses up again. I'd never before thought a person could die from embarrassment. I gave Hisagi a short, stiff bow and apologised again before turning to walk away.

 

“You really think it's a well worked piece? It was one of the first I did.”

 

I stopped in my tracks. Was that uncertainty in his voice? No way. Even my best pieces didn't look that good. Granted, I was more into the sewing of garments than creative stitchery but I wasn't exactly a slouch in that department either. I turned to face Hisagi. He'd dropped his sweater, hiding the magnificent art he'd created with needle and thread.

 

“I think its museum quality. I can't believe you're actually wearing it. I'd be terrified it'd get dirty or ruined. It should be framed and hung up for people to admire.”

 

A very faint pink blush coloured the bridge of Hisagi's nose. He gave me that tiny smile of his again and ran his hand through his hair. He looked away and pressed his lips tightly together as if trying to decide what to do next before swinging his gaze back to me.

 

“You wanna grab a coffee or something? I don't get the chance to talk about needlework with someone very often. I mean, if you don't have plans already.”

 

I was completely taken aback. On the one hand, he was a Shinigami and one of the rougher ones at that. On the other hand, he did beautiful needlework and there was a very short supply of people, let alone guys, that I could discuss advanced stitchery techniques with. He didn't fidget while he waited for my answer even though I could see in his eyes that he was hoping I'd say yes. He probably had even fewer people to talk to than I did about needlework. I found myself nodding my head and saying something about paying for my fabric and notions. Hisagi held up the hanks of floss in his hand and gestured in the general direction of the check out. As we walked to the cash, I found excitement bubbling through me at the idea of talking about something I truly enjoyed with someone who obviously shared my enthusiasm.