Is it wrong to want something you don't deserve? Even when you don't act on your desire? Even when your only connection to that something is based solely upon duty, obligation and loyalty? But what if it was a product of fate? Perhaps it was always meant to be. Perhaps she was destined to be with him all along.
Ulquiorra abruptly shoved those thoughts from his mind. Of course it wasn't meant to be. Of course he can't have her, no matter how much he wants her. It is an impossibility. His analytic, logical mind tells him so. But if that's the case, then what is this bizarre feeling that's stimulating said unnerving desires? What is this indescribable series of emotions he feels every time he is near her? He cannot possibly be feeling such petty, human emotions. Arrancar can't afford to have feelings. Over and over again, he desperately tries to drive these emotions, these feelings, away to the smallest, darkest corners of his mind. And each time, he fails miserably.
Ulquiorra is the shade of a moonless, starless night. He is the lurking shadows possessed by demons that guide innocence to their doom. He is the darkness: cold and hidden. But he is the darkness that longs for light. That yearns for the rays of the sun to shed across his shadowy world or the brightness of the moon to bring him home again. That is what Orihime is. She is the light. The light of the sun. The light of the moon. She is the one that guides lost souls from despair and misery and gives them hope, joy and happiness. She is everything he is not and everything he desires.
The feeling is there and he can't shun it. Just like a dream. You can't rid yourself of your emotions in a dream. You can't suppress your true desires or feelings to nothingness no matter how much you may want to. But in reality, his feelings can be ignored. He can hide them. Or try to. He has to try. For as long as he's assigned this task, at least.
Just as his unwelcome thoughts trail off, Ulquiorra finds himself right outside the door to her room. Why is it that I seem to inevitably find my way to this door rather than any other? He wonders. He knows it's not time for her dinner for another couple of hours yet he's still standing outside her door. Looking at it mutely, he listens to any sounds she may make from the other side. But none came. In fact, had he not known better, he would have thought the room were vacant. But the door remained locked and none other possessed a key.
Leisurely contemplating whether or not he should enter or move on, he hears his name spoken from the other side of the door. But it's not simply spoken. No. It is whispered. Sung. Uttered so lightly and delicately yet so sternly and demanding. It conveys each and every emotion the human heart is capable of feeling: happiness, fear, worry, sadness, anger. Everything Ulquiorra's tone never held. The voice is easily the most beautiful thing he's ever heard and listening to his name expressed in such a way made his non-existent heart halt on the spot.
Gradually regaining his senses, Ulquiorra knocks almost inaudibly and opens the door a crack. Peering in, he is just able to make out the oversized, blue couch and Orihime's elegant form lying on it, facing the door. Ulquiorra's body freezes before realizing that her eyes are shut and her breathing steady. She is soundly asleep.
She must have called his name in her dreams. But she's lying so peacefully. So calmly. He can't imagine something so bright having anything but a nightmare involving him. But this woman is most defiantly not having a nightmare or anything of the sort. Ulquiorra's hopes are ignited. He feels a candle light up his insides, somewhere he's never felt before. He's not used to this. It's uncomfortable. But he wants it. He wants it so badly.
Slowly, he backs out of the room, closes the door silently and begins down the hallway the same way he came. He feels something overwhelm the firm grasp he has on his emotions and lets a small smile consume his naturally melancholic features for the first time.