Out of all the people.

Aizen huffed lightly as he wiped the blood off the knife, looking down at your lifeless form. Still in your wedding dress, now drenched in your own crimson, you lay there, stabbed to death. He swung the knife in the air, sending the rest of the blood on the knife splattering to the stained grass. He was a murderer. You knew that, but you lived like a dog, and it was too late to turn it around, you fell hard— which was the perfect sense of false security he could’ve wished for in order to murder you next. He coldly looked down at your body, before silently walking off back to his car, parked on the side of the empty roads.

A shame, you were the first, and most likely only one to love him truly, for who he was, even knowing his faults and loving them as much as him. Oh well.