-Hello all, Mooniestar here again, blah blah blah. Another Bleach fic, and you know the drill! I've decided that Orihime is my female 'Launcher' and I haven't decided who my male one is yet. Might not even have one. So anyway, this story stars Orihime and Uryuu. Uryuu is a victim of slight OOC, but then again, we have seen hints of this behavior in the manga, so maybe it's not so far from the truth after all. I hope it's not too awkward, you know?

Synopsis: Orihime asks Uryuu to help her with a sewing project after class, but things quickly get out of hand as he realizes that he has a rather hard crush on his friend. Can he keep his cool without giving away his perverted intentions?

Inner thoughts are indicated by 'italics'.

I don't own these characters, but I do own the mannequin. And you can't have it, Kubo!

Measurements and Misunderstandings

Chapter 1

Hajimari

The sun was already beginning to sink in the distant west, creating long shadows from the trees in front of the school. Uryuu was in the Home Ec club room, gathering his sewing materials from his latest project. As he snapped his sewing kit shut and tucked some spare fabric under his arm, the bespectacled boy surveyed the room. The other club members had left about half an hour ago, insisting that they would rather go to the shopping district than spend more time than needed after class. Although club activities were mandatory for every student, not all of them showed the diligence that Uryuu did. His creativity for coming up with different kind of clothes and accessories automatically denied him any sort of normal friendships with other guys his age, and coupled with his cold, stoic demeanor, also prevented many girls from speaking with him as well. The few people that were in any way close to him were just as outcast as he was, although he couldn't really count them as friends in any case. Still, he couldn't refute the feeling that surfaced once every blue moon that... he wanted to be close to someone. Anyone.

He shook his head, giving a discontented sigh. There was no time for that now. He needed to head home. As Uryuu opened the door to leave, something very solid came running into him. The flowing mane of orange hair was a dead-giveaway, but he embarrassingly acknowledged that he also would recognize that vivacious chest anywhere. The scent of flowery perfume filled his nostrils.

"Oh, Ishida-kun! Good, you're still here," Orihime said happily, smiling innocently at him.

"Inoue... yes, I had stay behind to lock up. Is there something you needed?" he asked calmly, though he could feel his heart thumping loudly as he spoke.

"Well," she drawled out, putting a forefinger to her bottom lip, "I was wondering if you would do me a favor."

'A favor,' he thought silently, 'What could she possibly want from me?' As he adjusted his glasses in thought, he saw Orihime's hand dart out for him, glee shining in her eyes. Uryuu felt like he had a heart attack. 'Whoa whoa WHOA! What's she doing?'

"Oh wow, this one's perfect!" she squealed, tugging the spare fabric from his arm and holding it out in front of her. Uryuu swallowed nervously as he realized her innocent intent.

"Perfect for what?" he managed to say.

"For my project. You see, it's Rukia's birthday soon, and I wanted to get her something special. I wanted to make her a summer dress, and if there was enough fabric left, I could make one for me too. Then we could be like twins! And we can fight crime! And-"

"Um, Inoue? You can let go of me now!" He stopped her just in time for her to notice that she had twisted his arms upwards into a full nelson, rendering him helpless during her rant.

"Oh sorry," she giggled, releasing him instantly, "Guess I got carried away, haha."

"No, it's okay," he replied, massaging his shoulder lightly as he turned around to face her. She was studying the fabric again, holding it up in the dying sunlight. It was a soft violet, not quite a lavender shade, and the edges were pre-embroidered with silver ivy leaves, curling over and under themselves. Orihime experimentally draped the sheet around her torso, pulling it tight around the back.

'Oh, sweet heavenly...' Uryuu felt blood rush to his face as he couldn't help but watch as the silken cloth was taut around her chest, her small waist emphasized as she wrapped it around her body. He forced himself to not stare by distracting himself with his sewing kit, fiddling with the contents inside.

"So will you help me make Rukia's present? I promise to make it up to you somehow. Please? Please with a cute, little strawberry on top?" she begged precociously.

"Of-of course I can help," he answered, accidentally pricking his finger with a long needle as he agreed. Luckily, the pain cleared his mind a little and he could feel the back of his neck cool down. No need to be nervous.

"Yay! Thank you, Ishida-kun!" she said happily, clapping her hands together. The fabric dropped to the ground, sliding down her curves and crumpling to the floor. Uryuu had a momentary flash of what she would look like if she wasn't wearing anything underneath that fabric, but quickly perished the thought as best as he could. For good measure, he pricked his finger again with the same needle, this time on purpose. Unfortunately, Orihime saw the blood beginning to drip down his hand, even as he reached for a handkerchief in his pocket.

"Oh no, where'd that blood come from?" she asked, walking up and grabbing his hand in concern. As soon as she touched him, something jolted inside his stomach.

"It's nothing, just a pinprick from my sewing kit. Here, I'll just wrap my hand with this," and he produced a white, square cloth and tried to pull his hand away. However, Orihime ignored it and placed his injured digit straight into her mouth, gently sucking at the blood. His mouth went as dry as a desert in summer, blood pounding in his ears. He could feel every tiny movement of her lips, the moist heat of her mouth...

'Her slick tongue licking all around my-' With a sharp gasp, he pulled his finger out with a delicate pop, now void of any sign of laceration. For a moment, her mouth still held that 'O' shape in steady position before giving a small frown.

"What's wrong, does it still hurt?" she asked worriedly.

"No... not exactly. You didn't have to do that, Orihime." He felt heated all over his face, as if he had been staring at the sun for hours. He pressed his finger into the white cloth with pressure, then lifted it to show that it had healed already. "But thank you anyway," he finished, deciding that in any case, he should be grateful. Even if she did make him have very perverted thoughts.

"You're welcome," she replied cheerfully, then her eyebrows lifted as she suddenly remembered something. Orihime turned around and bent down to pick up the violet cloth, taking it by the corners and folding it neatly. Uryuu once again tried not to stare, but his eyes were already tracing the curves of her hips, noting at how well-developed she was for a high school girl. He couldn't ever recall paying attention to how girls looked, but now she was rapidly changing his mind. Was she even aware of how blessed she was?

"So, can we do it here?"

'Wha...A-Already?' his mind screamed, and he struggled not to repeat the words out loud.

"Erm, well... it's getting a little late. The school is supposed to be closed already." As he came up with the explanation, he inwardly congratulated himself. Maybe he could go home, take a cold shower, and then forget that this ever happened. Tomorrow, he would have a clear head and remind himself over and over that Orihime was just a good friend.

"Oh, you're right," she said thoughtfully, hugging the folded cloth beneath her breasts. "Well, let's get going so we don't get locked inside." Uryuu nodded, clenching his sewing kit in his right hand and nervously pushing up his glasses with the other. Just a good friend. That's all.

As the both of them exited the school grounds, the raven-haired Quincy turned to tell her goodbye, to which she looked at him with a slightly puzzled expression.

"But aren't we going to your house?" Uryuu blanched and his mind began to race once more.

"My house?" he stammered, fidgeting a little as he looked away.

"Yeah, I'm not sure where else we can do it."

'Ohh, please don't say it like that, Orihime...'

"I'm not quite prepared yet," he insisted, trying desperately to come up with an excuse, "What I mean is, I can't make a dress without Rukia's measurements. O-or yours, for that matter."

"But you have all of the materials at your house, right?" she pressed on, rocking back and forth on her heels. The wind was starting to pick up, tugging at the bottom of her pleated skirt. He forced himself to look at a stop sign while her skirt flared up from the breeze.

"I have them, yes. However, it'll take some planning and that takes quite a bit of my time, depending on how much detail I have to do on the dress."

"Then it's settled. Which way do you live, Ishida-kun?" She smiled at his confused expression. Her logic was either infallible, or his willpower was drastically weaker around her. He found himself melting inwardly at her smile and was already pointing in the direction of where he lived.

After about fifteen minutes, they arrived at the Ishida residence, and for some reason, Uryuu found himself becoming very nervous about this entire situation. As many times as he thought about it, he couldn't resist some of the naughtier thoughts that invaded his head. He managed to calm himself by the time they got to the front door, telling himself that it was only natural that he felt this way. The older that boys grew, the more they notice the opposite sex. It's just the way of the world, even for high school teenagers. Especially for high school teenagers.

"Wow, you have a really nice house!" Orihime fawned, admiring all of the decor as Uryuu unlocked the front door. He stepped inside, knowing that she would follow him right afterwards. No turning back now...

"I'm home," he called out, placing the house key and sewing kit on the kitchen table after kicking off his shoes. However, nobody answered him. The silence was becoming more and more uncomfortable.

"Welcome home," came Orihime's voice, startling him slightly. He turned around to find her slipping off her shoes, standing in the threshold. He couldn't help but stare at her again.

"What's the matter?"

"Sorry, it's just... usually nobody answers me when I say that," he explained softly, looking a little melancholic.

"Oh... do you live alone?" she wondered, straightening her shoes at the edge of the hallway.

"Yeah. My mother died a while ago, and my father..." He paused, feeling a lump form in his throat.

"It's okay, you don't have to talk about it. Truth is, I live by myself too, so I know what it's like."

"I see..." he trailed off, giving a vague nod that he understood. The door shut behind her and Orihime walked in, still clutching the fabric to her chest.

"Well anyway, let's get started before it gets too late!" she bubbled, relieving some of the tension in the air. "Where do you keep all of the materials?"

"Oh, everything's in my bedroom-"

'My bedroom... Oh God, she's going to be in my bedroom! Where I sleep! We'll be alone, undisturbed...'

"Ishida-kun, is it this one?" she called, her voice sounding far away. Uryuu snapped out of his thoughts, realizing that she had already walked into the back hallway by herself. When he walked into the small corridor, she wasn't there. A faint squeak reached his ears and he all but ran inside his room.

'She... she's on my bed! I have the most beautiful girl on my bed right now!' his mind was screaming. Sure enough, Orihime had settled herself on his mattress, sitting with her legs straight out, ankles crossed.

"What's the matter? Your face is bright red," she pointed out.

"N-nothing at all," he stammered, pushing up his glasses. "So then, let's get started."

"Right. Oh, I almost forgot!" Orihime stood up and reached into her skirt pocket. "I have Rukia's measurements written down." She handed him the slip of paper. His hand trembled slightly as he took it from her, to which she noticed.

"Now, don't get any ideas. Rukia is very shy when it comes to stuff like that," she warned, and Uryuu blinked several times, looking from the paper and back to Orihime.

"I'm not going to do anything with it," he assured her, scanning the numbers that were written down. Height, inseam, shoulder width...

'Bust... 89 cm!' He nearly crumpled the paper from shock. He would have never guessed! Not with her height, surely! Giving an embarrassed cough, he put the paper on his work desk. It was bad enough he was thinking about the girl in his room right now; he didn't need to double it with thoughts of Rukia.

"Well good, because if any of the boys found out her real measurements, she'd never live it down. She's kept it a secret all this time, and it needs to stay that way."

"Wait, if she's kept it a secret, how did you get it from her?" he asked. Orihime winked at him in response.

"I have my ways," was her answer. And with that, Uryuu was almost pulled into another downward spiral of his inner thoughts, wanting to know exactly what 'her ways' were. Instead, he managed to keep himself in reality and began rummaging through a wooden chest by his closet, pulling out everything that he thought he could use.

"How do you want this dress to look exactly?" he asked her, trying to keep focused.

"Hmm..." Orihime pondered aloud, "I think short sleeves, maybe with a little design embroidered on the edges. And the skirt part should be wide, so that if she needs to run around, she won't have any trouble. Not too short though, about knee length." As she described the more minute details, the young Quincy found that he could finally breathe. With every suggestion, he sifted through all kinds of ribbon and accessories, finding things that he thought would best match what she was asking for.

"And maybe an open neckline, round shaped, not square. Is that enough to start with?" she asked him. He chuckled, standing up to reveal his arms full of lace, ribbon, thread and more of the purple fabric she had chosen.

"I would think so," he replied, spreading everything out on his desk. Orihime came to stand beside him, looking closely at everything.

"Go ahead and choose what you want from there, I need to get something," he told her, sidestepping back to his closet. He emerged with a simplistic mannequin, consisting of only the torso, and it was decidedly female shaped.

"Here, hand me the fabric, and that pincushion. We'll get the basic shape first and work from there." Orihime complied, and they spent the next twenty minutes shaping the violet cloth into a gown-like figure. Uryuu felt like he was in his niche now, concentrating on his task. They experimented with different layers, and cinching parts of the waist, deciding that if they put elastic down the side seams, it would fit Rukia better and flatter her figure. Orihime finally broke the silence.

"You're really good at this, you know," she complimented quietly, inserting some pins along where the sleeves connected to the main dress. The dark-haired boy felt his face flush again. He was kneeling on the floor, adjusting the width of the skirt, and when he looked up at her, his eyes were level with her hips. He had studied the human figure enough to know that he could tell what kind of body type a girl had simply by the way her clothes lay against her figure. The way her school skirt flared gave away the way she was built, and he cursed the school tailors for making the girl's uniforms so revealing. He also cursed his wandering eyes at the same time.

"Thanks," he replied, finishing the last of the hemming on the bottom of the skirt. "Okay, I guess I'll start sewing this together, unless there's anything else you want to add."

"No, it looks great already. And see? There's even enough fabric left for mine!"

"Yours?" he queried, beginning to remove the half-made dress from the mannequin.

"Yeah, remember? I wanted to make a matching dress for myself too," she reminded him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Unless... you don't want to. I mean, I can try to make it myself."

"No, I can whip one up for you too, it's no problem," Uryuu reassured her, placing the dress by the sewing machine on his desk.

"I'm so glad I asked you to do this," she gushed, grinning like a child on Christmas morning. "Hey, I've got an idea. I'll go ahead and take my own measurements, and that way we can finish making both of them in time for Rukia's birthday. Is that okay?"

"Sure, I mean... there's no rush, really," he replied, handing her the tape measure, then turning back to sit at his desk. A moment passed, and he heard the rustle of clothing behind him and something light dropping to the floor. She must have dropped the tape measure... yes, that had to be it. Then the sound of a zipper being drawn open, another something falling on the carpet. It can't be... it just couldn't be!

'She's... stripping right behind me! This is insane. Don't you dare look, Uryuu! Don't look, don't look, DON'T-!'

"Ishida-kun," said Orihime, sounding awfully close to him.

"Yes?" he nearly yelled, almost dropping the bobbin in his hand.

"Sorry, but can you help me real quick? I can't seem to reach..."

"O-oh? Ahehe..." he ended up giving a nervous laugh, his body feeling rigid in his chair. "What's the problem?"

"I can reach everything else except my shoulders. The tape keeps slipping." Uryuu swallowed hard, his mind reeling uncontrollably. Inoue Orihime was here, in his room alone with him, either completely naked or at least in her bra and underwear... and she wanted him to come over and-

"Come on already, or else I'll be bothering you all night," she called, her voice playfully chastising.

'I wouldn't mind that one bit. Bother me all night... I've BEEN hot and bothered ever since I invited you over here.'

"Be right there," he murmured, wishing that he hadn't been born with all these male hormones threatening to take over his body. He got the feeling that if he so much as had one eyeful of her body, he wouldn't be able to function anymore that night. But he couldn't keep stalling like this, so without further delay, he carefully stood up and turned around.

Sure enough, her school uniform littered the floor, though he didn't see any undergarments lying down there. As if they had a mind of their own, his blue eyes traveled up her calves, her sleek thighs, and... a pair of fitted black shorts. She also wore a tank top of the same material, some kind of nylon. No curves were given any hiding spot, and even though the girl was clearly covered, it left very little to the imagination. Part of him was very relieved that she wasn't nude, but when clothing is that tight around a girl like her, there's nearly no difference.

"Here, do my shoulders and my inseams for me," she requested, holding her arms straight down her sides.

"Right. Okay then..." As he stretched out the tape to measure her shoulder width, he suddenly panicked. If he measured from the front, he would surely touch her breasts on accident and then everything would spin out of control. She would think he was a pervert for sure! And in any case, he couldn't stop staring at them. Those perfectly round, luscious...

"Actually, l-let me measure from the back. It's more accurate that way," he blurted out, grabbing her by the shoulders and spinning her around.

"Oh, I guess you're right," she agreed, shrugging a little. He took the tape and placed one end at the left shoulder, then drew it firmly to the right. He could feel her draw breath, then exhale... she seemed so calm.

'Of course she would be calm. She's not thinking all this sexual stuff like I am,' he thought sardonically.

"Um, it's 40.5 cm," he said, going back to his desk to write it down on the paper holding Rukia's measurements.

"Hmm, I've got some broad shoulders, huh," she mused.

"Not at all, Inoue, they're very-" 'sexy... no, perfect! Soft and supple, not to mention-' "proportionate."

"You think so? Thanks," she replied, turning her head to smile at him. "Okay, let's keep going. We have to move faster than this if we're going to finish in time." With that, she held out her arm, prompting him for the next one.

For the next few minutes, he managed to keep a straight head, remembering to breathe to keep from passing out. Orihime was oblivious as she turned and adjusted herself when necessary, humming a little tune to pass the time. Uryuu concentrated on getting the most accurate measurements and keeping his worry about touching her to a minimum. Difficult, but not impossible. However, with every moment that passed, he came to the realization that sooner or later he would have to do the body part he was most nervous about. Sooner or later, his hands would have to be at her chest level. Trying his best to block out the imagery, he wrote down the last measurement very slowly, stalling for as much time as he could.

"Is that everything?" Orihime asked, peeking over his shoulder.

"Well almost, there's one more... um, part," he finished lamely, scanning the list again for all it was worth.

"Oh? Let me see." She reached over and plucked the sheet of paper from his hand, reading it carefully. "You're right! We did forget one. Silly us, haha," she laughed, waving the sheet in front of his face. The Quincy could suddenly feel himself liquefy on the inside; she was so, dare he even think it, cute!

"Last one, then," he agreed, picking up the measuring tape once again. She nodded and stood back in the middle of the floor, making a quick turn-about.

"Here, measure from the back like you did before, okay? Then we can start sewing."

'Wait, what? I can't exactly get a good angle of her brea- I mean, her bust, if I reach from behind. I won't be able to see what I'm doing... and what if I end up touching her the wrong way?' His heart pounded in his chest as he walked behind her, holding out the tape as if it were a piece of rope, waiting to be used as a bondage device. His glasses began slipping from behind his ears. He couldn't think of any other logical solution, other than to just hurry and get it over with.

"Stand still," he told her, as well as half-telling himself. He almost started shaking again. And without any further delay, he pressed the tape between her upper back and his thumbs, sliding it around to her front and encircling her with his arms. As soon as took the measurement, he found himself inhaling the scent of her hair, breathing deeply. He couldn't stop his hands from squeezing...

The wind was knocked out of him as he hit the floor, knocking over the bare mannequin behind him. His glasses fell to his side, and as he felt around for them, he could spot Orihime standing much further away from him. Her voice still rang in his ears. Even though her face was a blur, he could tell that she was taken aback.

'Dammit! I took this too far. She had every right to push me away. Just please don't be mad, Orihime.'

"I'm sorry," she said quietly from the edge of his bed. Her cheeks seemed tinged with red.

"Why? You're not the one who-"

"I just wasn't expecting you to do that. I'm sorry I pushed you; you just surprised me, that's all," she blurted out, the words tumbling from her lips. His finger tips touched cold plastic, and he put his glasses back on. She was looking away from him, trying to hide her face with her hair. Was she crying? Oh God, don't let her be crying...

"It's okay, Ishida-kun. To be honest, I forgot that one. I thought you were going to measure from my neck to my thigh, you know... for the length of the dress." All at once, Uryuu felt utterly embarrassed. It was a misunderstanding, yes... but dangerous one. It had almost undone him. His arms could still feel her, and he could still smell that fresh fragrance from her tresses, canceling out all common sense. Her body was soft, pliable against him. One more second and he might have just given in to sweet temptation.

The measuring tape landed at Orihime's feet and she watched as Uryuu stood up, adjusting his black frames.

"My kit is still in the kitchen. Go ahead and finish up, I'll be back in a minute." He left the room without another word, leaving the room with a cold chill. As the orange-haired girl shivered involuntarily, she picked up the tape. Without too much difficulty, she managed to get the length for the last measurement and wrote it down on the list. Then she wrote down her bust size; she knew that one by heart. When that was done, she went over to the window and peeked outside. The sun had long since set, and the sky was a hazy purple. It was already so late.

He paced the kitchen for the 8th time, clenching his sewing kit in hand. With every pace, he replayed the scenario that just happened in his head. Each time, he felt more and more idiotic. What was he thinking, taking advantage of a girl like Orihime? It was ludicrous to think that he could get away with something like that! She had apologized to him for the misunderstanding, but he had yet to do the same. And when he did, he wasn't going to botch it up. No, he was going to play it straight and beg for forgiveness if he had to. Feeling slightly more determined, he returned to his bedroom.

Orihime had dressed herself back into her uniform, and was leaning against the windowpane. Uryuu stood in the doorway, not sure how to put his thoughts into words. As if on cue, the girl turned around and looked at him, looking a little less embarrassed than before. The tension was still present, however, and his mouth went dry again. He should just apologize, right this very moment. It's better to ask forgiveness than ask for permission. And he certainly didn't outright ask to touch her like that.

"Listen, Inoue... I'm-"

With no warning, his stomach gave a long growl that seemed to reach the ceiling, and Orihime's eyes went wide.

"Hungry?" she said, finishing his sentence, and then promptly burst into laughter. As if in response, his stomach growled again and he pressed his forehead into the doorframe. 'Just my luck,' he thought bitterly.

"Y-yeah, I guess so..." he finally admitted.

"So why don't we get something? Do you have anything here?" she asked, coming away from the window.

"Um, all I have is some instant curry mix... but that'll do in a fix, right?" As he watched her nod and smile, he came to the idea that maybe she had already forgiven him. Perhaps it wasn't too late to fix this.

"Come on, let's go," she urged, shooing him towards the kitchen. When they arrived, Orihime went straight for the lower cupboards, searching for the ingredients. Uryuu started pulling vegetables from the refrigerator and began cutting them into slices. Orihime emerged with a bag of white rice, along with the box of instant curry. They worked together to cook the dish, and it was finished in no time. The delicious, spicy aroma surrounded the room and Orihime served two helpings onto the dinner plates, urging her classmate to sit at the table.

"Itadakimasu," they both said, then promptly took a bite. Uryuu's eyes went wide and he covered his mouth in surprise.

"What's wrong?" Orihime asked instantly, managing to swallow her first bite, "Is it too-?"

"It's really good!" he exclaimed, and began shoveling the curry into his mouth.

"Oh? Well, I just cooked it like I always cook curry, even if it's just instant," she told him, her expression perplexed as she watched him eat. But then she broke into a grin and took another mouthful. It really was delicious though.

Soon their plates were empty and Uryuu felt much better than before, his spirits lifted. Not once did she seem upset at him, nor did she give him the cold shoulder. No, she made small talk and acted as if the last incident in the bedroom had all but disappeared. She even volunteered to clear the table after they were finished, and he was left watching her dry the dishes at the sink, feeling full and satisfied. She had tied her hair back with a hair band, and a few wisps of hair had escaped to brush against the nape of her neck. The image of her standing there, in his house, just felt... right. He allowed his mind to wander over the idea a bit longer, his eyes fluttering shut.

"Don't fall asleep there, dear, it's bad for your posture," she was chastising him.

"Sorry, I've just had a long day. And your cooking is just so good, I can't help but feel so relaxed afterwards," he said apologetically, stretching is arms above his head. Orihime stood with her hands on her hips, looking slightly worried.

"Come on then, let's go to bed early," she said sweetly, taking her hand in his and walking into the back hallway, "I'll even wear that outfit you like... if you ask nicely," she added, looking over her shoulder with a playful grin.

"Y-you mean the one where there's no-?"

"Uh-huh, that one." It was only a minute later that he had rushed her inside the bedroom and he was urgently pressing her form against the mattress, relishing her taste...

"Ishida-kun? Um... are you asleep?"

"Mm... what?" he mumbled, slowly opening his eyes. His black frames had been pushed above his bangs, but he could still see Orihime leaning down and looking at him closely.

"Maybe I should get going... it's getting to be pretty late," she said thoughtfully, sitting down in the chair next to him. He could smell the scent of dishwashing soap from her, and came to his senses.

"No! I mean... um, we haven't finished Rukia's present yet," he protested, sitting straight up.

"Yes, but I'm sure we can continue it later. I really should be going home." Uryuu could feel distress building up inside his chest, as if this once-in-a-lifetime chance were dissolving away.

"I'm sure it's not that late," he insisted, looking at the clock above the kitchen table, "Maybe 8 or 9 at the most." But the clock read 10:50 PM and his heart sank a little more, not wanting to believe it.

"How... how long was I asleep?" he dared to ask.

"About an hour," she answered, leaning her chin on the palm of her hand, "You were kind of mumbling in your sleep too."

"What did I say?" he questioned nervously, the images of his short dream still reeling inside his thoughts.

"Oh, you were talking about clothes or something. Aprons? Yeah, you definitely mentioned those." His face fell, feeling embarrassed. He never knew he could sleep-talk before, and of all things, about clothing.

"I'm sorry... I guess I'm not a very good host. I don't get to have guests too often," he confessed.

"That's not true, Ishida-kun. You think too little of yourself. You really are a great person." Something warm passed over his hand and he looked down to see Orihime touching his fingers with her own, a sign of reassurance.

"Thank you... that's something nobody has told me before." He was silent and couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye.

"Then I'm the first to tell you. I'm glad then, that I'm the first with that." She gave a smile, still squeezing his hand in hers. Then her other hand came up and slipped his glasses back on, clearing his vision. As she leaned towards him, the distance between them shrank rather quickly and Uryuu was the closest he had ever been to kissing a girl.

'Finally!' his mind screamed, and he leaned forward in return, waiting for sweet contact.

"You are a little perverted though." The Quincy stopped, frozen in his tracks.

"A...what?" he whispered, the words not registering with him. She just called him a-

"It's not anything you should be ashamed of, and I don't think any less of you. I guess it makes sense though, after all that's happened today," she mused, sitting back in her chair. His hand felt cold as she took hers away. Still, as he managed to pull his gaze up to her face, she looked... amused. Wasn't she mad? If she could figure that out so quickly, he couldn't possibly get away with trying to lie. He felt defeated, as if she had seen through everything, even if it wasn't malicious towards her. He was just a simple guy with perverted thoughts. He just happened to get caught red-handed.

"Like I said, I'm not a very good host. I can't even control myself around you." That was it right there. He admitted it to her, and there was no going back. She would hate him forever.

"Oh, I see..." she replied quietly, staring at the table. "So I should leave then. I wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea about all of this."

"No, don't leave yet," he pleaded, grabbing her hand impulsively. "I-I'm sorry, I mean... I won't do anything like that again." Orihime gave a far-away smile and he could tell that she was remembering what happened in his bedroom.

"I'm going now. But... I promise to come over tomorrow to help you, okay?" She said her words cheerfully, as if to reassure that he did nothing wrong. She stood up and her hand fell away from his. All he could do was watch as she walked to the door and slipped her shoes on.

'Say something to her, dammit! Anything!' he shouted inwardly, but it wasn't any use. He couldn't think of anything else to say, at least not without making things worse.

"Promise?" was all he could manage, the word barely a choked whisper. The silence afterward was so deafening, and then...

"Yes, I promise." The door opened with a slight creak and then shut quietly, her footsteps fading into the night. Uryuu's forehead touched the surface of the table, his glasses clinking against the grain. Just like that, she was gone.

"Agh," he groaned out loud, "This is what happens when I get too confident. Still... I never thought she could read me like that." With a final sigh, Uryuu forced himself to stand up and trudged to his room. All of the materials were still spread out on the floor, the mannequin lying on its side, looking forlorn. Stifling a yawn, he began to clean up, though he was rather careless as he threw most of the things in his closet. The floor was clear of debris, save for a small, red something near the side of his bed. He realized with a jolt that it was Orihime's necktie; she must have forgotten it! He impulsively snatched it up and brought the cloth to his nose, inhaling deeply. It was a mixture of flowery perfume and scented shampoo, along with subtle traces of her own fresh aroma. It filled his senses with a heady euphoria and he fell on his mattress, breathing in her smell. One last thought floated through his head as he drifted off to sleep, granting him one final happiness.

'She's coming back tomorrow... yes!'

To be Continued.

-Yes everyone, you heard right! To be continued. Agh, what have I gotten myself into? I don't plan on making this more than 3 chapters, but... I have so many ways this could go! Send your feedback and if you have any suggestions, type them out real quick. Obviously, an actual lemon will most likely happen between them, but nothing forced and nothing silly. Also, feel free to correct any grammatical errors, or anything else, I don't mind at all!

Note to my reviewers: Orihime is not mad at Uryuu, I wanted to make that clear. She is suspicious, yes, but she's not angry. They do have an established friendship, and she won't throw it away because of a couple of mishaps. I mean, she hangs out with Chizuru all the time, so I'm sure Orihime can handle Uryuu, you know? Thank you to Kenichi for pointing out a certain word I had used wrongly, it's changed now. If there are any others, let me know!

I hope you enjoyed it so far, and be sure to check out my other Bleach fics too!