#grimmita

At the question pushed forward by the long-haired Uchiha, Grimmjow could only raise an eyebrow, hands tucked securely in the pockets of his jeans, before scoffing. What, did he look like he was into that sort of thing? That was something that Itachi should be asking a chick, not a guy whose idea of dressing up was grabbing the first thing he caught a hold of in his closet. And honestly speaking, even if Itachi was getting all antsy from the pressure of the start of his performance drawing close, there was no need to get his nerves up in that much of a twist. Just fucking deal with it.

Letting out a breath tinged with irritation, Grimmjow nearly rolled his eyes at the waves of panic that were practically rolling off of the other. Being the sort of person that he was, he had never really been the type to panic- at least not under this sort of pressure. For someone who appeared so cool and collected upon their first meeting, Itachi sure was getting riled up pretty easily. Blue eyes examined the Uchiha almost critically, his keen sense of observation managing to pick out quite a list of details. What the Hell was his problem?

“Do I look like I know anything about it, kid?” Grimmjow said bluntly.