brings a hand to grimmjow's cheek, firmly; not a stroke but a flat reminder. aizen's palm is suffused with warmth and power, so much it must become almost unbearable. it's like a test: who knows how long grimmjow will bear his vicinity, and his touch? "what do you want from me?"
He did not pull away but in the first second, there was the desire to flee from this sudden proximity, or what could result out of it as such touch from his Master was completely foreign for the Arrancar. It was warm, yet icy with no softness apart of it laying flatly against his cheek. Not the tiniest bit of movement, no caressing or stroking, just his mere presence, which felt already overwhelming enough without any physical contact. His reiatsu always lingered around him, like a noose around Grimmjow’s neck. Even before the public humiliation the other had caused him, even before it was always there. Threatening them all but at the same time, giving them a feeling of safety as it was just as deadly to them as to their enemies. They were all running under the same flag but the fear would never truly vanish, it would be foolish not to fear this man despite being allies now. It was a rather thin bond, as he was not dependant on them at all. And they actually not as well. If with or without Aizen, their lifestyle would never truly change.
Grimmjow blinked at him, he had barely registered that he had been basically frozen into the touch. No hint of emotion had been given, he had just accepted it like a natural law. Though had they been any particular joy? Not even that, he had felt. The touch was so cold, its intention completely unclear to the Espada, apart of unsettling him perhaps. If Aizen had intended to please him in one way or another, (show something akin to love) then surely he would have known that he sought far more than just the silent contact of his palm. Though, would have a more pleasant touch, even if just a rub of his thumb changed anything? It was a hollow touch, and always would remain as such. What Aizen saw in him was nothing but a mystery for the Hollow. Who sometimes wished, to be just a predator again, even if it meant to be once again stuck in a smaller form. There was no particular fondness towards this humanoid shell. The only thing, which had ever truly mattered to him was power, the looks were not worth a thought. This state, was even a weakened form. Not made for fighting. His teeth were dull, much like a humans. Made for cooked flesh and anything vegetarian. His nails, just as dull and short. He felt almost tamed in this form. What reason was there, to even have two. When one was simply weaker? Being once human, did not matter to the Espada. He had never sought out to become more human, only power.
Only power. That was Aizen, despite his appearance. Shinigami and humans looked so the same, were almost the same. How could he possibly enjoy such state? Such form? Was that the reason, why he was here with the Hollows? Could he possibly feel some connection towards them? To him?
“The same, I could ask you.”
Grimmjow sighed, his legs stretching out, with his toes curling inside his shoes. So trapped, he was not fit for this form, did not want it. Everything was dull, apart of the sword at his side. How miserable, requiring a tool to fight, to return to the beast, he actually is. He turned in his seat, facing Aizen more properly, before moving his head out of the other’s palm at last. “What would I know,” he murmured and stared at him, as if Aizen held all the answers. “If I consume your soul, will I know?”
