Title: No Color for frouella
Fandom: Bleach
Pairing: Ulquiorra/Orihime
Word Count: 548
A/N: She chose my dream pairing from the poll. :p I don't actually know that I CAN write Ulquiorra, but I had fun doing it. (hearts) the emocar. And thank you very much to Nozomi for pointing out the chan/kun thing. You'd really think I'd know that by now. (head desk)
Neologism: a new word, usage, or expression; a meaningless word coined by a psychotic
"It's too white here," she said. She let her left hand flutter to her lap where she started to rub the fabric of the dress between her fingers. "The walls are too white, this dress is too white, and you're too white." It was an accusation, as if Ulquiorra's coloring somehow offended her sensibilities.
He stood at the foot of her bed and watched her push the food around on her plate. He thought about telling her that some of the things on the plate were actually green, but sighed instead. He was devoted to Aizen-sama, but there were things he would give Grimmjow's new arm to never have to do again.
Orihime speared a miniscule piece of green with her fork and placed it on the tip of her tongue. She chewed it slowly and thoughtfully and tapped the tines of the utensil against her cheek. "Maybe we should think up other things to call all the different hues?" He could tell by the way that she shifted restlessly that she expected an answer, another sigh or a biting remark. When she got nothing, she looked up at him.
Over time he had grown accustomed to her wide eyes and her trembling lower lip, but it still annoyed him. It chewed at the edge of his consciousness, and the fact that one stupid woman could make him feel anything at all was not lost on him. There was no one he would ever share that information with, though.
"It's just white," he said, gritting his teeth and trying hard to maintain the apathy he felt for everything else. "Please finish your food, or you will be punished again."
She smiled. "You're always looking out for me Ulqui-kun."
Ulquiorra shuddered and rolled his eyes. "I have never done any such thing and do not plan to start. It is merely that I do not want to listen to your whimpering."
"Could that be because you care for me, Ulqui-kun?"
"That could be because I'm annoyed by you, to a great degree. Your worthless existence is spoiling the purity of these halls. It's not white, it's pure."
Orihime nodded and pushed her plate away from her across the tray. Even the sound of crockery scraping across metal made his nerve ends twitch. The way her proximity to him made his anger rise and fall was quickly starting to make him feel like a sociopath. "I'm finished, Ulqui-kun."
"I did not give you permission to address me as such. And you haven't finished. Are you sure you want to return that?"
"Yes," she said. She looked down into her hands. Her spirit was almost broken. It was something which he took pride in and felt partially responsible for. Aizen-sama had given him a job, and he had completed it efficiently. But, he thought, he might have been too efficient.
Ulquiorra sighed again and took the tray from her. He started for the door. "If it will comfort you, you can refer to the shade you're wearing as 'hime.'"
She smiled again. It was large, and warmer than the sun in the real world. She didn't look up to watch him go. The door was almost closed behind him when he heard her quietly say, "That means you're wearing hime too."