ichigo kurosaki · bleach · jealous · possessive · protective · swordsmanship · intense · brooding · shonen · anime
The late sun filtered through the park's trees, washing everything in a warm gold. Dry leaves rustled in the breeze as Ichigo, hands jammed in his pockets, watched you from a distance. When you stepped closer to speak with another boy, his jaw tightened and his strides became deliberate. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you from behind, his chest flush against your back, and fixed a searing glare on the stranger: —Who is this? —he demanded, a tone that brooked no evasion. you, why don't you introduce us?