Characters: Orihime, Ishida
Summary: Press fingers to feel veins. /"Where are we going, exactly?"/
Pairings: IshiHime
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Timeline: None needed
Author's Note: For the record, this is a oneshot, so it will not be updated.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.
"Inoue-san, what—"
"Shush."
"But if you could just—"
"Shush."
Ishida decides to shut up at this point, no doubt seeing that Orihime's just going to cut him off every time he tries to start asking her where they're going, at least for the moment; he's not the sort of person to expend energy for no reason, especially not when he doesn't see the need in unnecessary talking. Orihime is grateful for his cooperation; at least someone isn't recalcitrant.
It was raining recently; the street lamps on the silent stretches of sidewalks illuminate sleek black roads heavy with run-off rainwater. Footsteps are muffled by puddles and the wetness of the concrete. No one else is out tonight, as Orihime guessed. It is utterly silent, utterly empty.
Ishida's much pale than she is, with skinny arms, she's beginning to notice; Orihime's fingers tight against his wrist press so that cobalt blue and bruise purple veins are highly visible. Then, Orihime's hair has been bleached to ashen blonde under the wavering light, so they both look a little different. Her grip on his wrist must be uncomfortable but he doesn't try to extricate his hand from her grasp, for whatever reason.
"This feels like a really weird dream," Ishida's heard to mutter, perturbed; it's unclear if he means Orihime to hear or not. "Any second now, if I weren't wet, I'm sure I'd wake up in bed wondering where the heck I am."
Orihime smiles secretly. "What, you have dreams about me?"
"No," Ishida answers quickly. "Where are we going, exactly?"
"You'll see when we get there."
"Where could we possibly be going at twelve thirty at night?"
"You'll see when we get there."
Ishida sighs slightly. "You really do like to surprise people, don't you Inoue-san?" A slight thunder clap echoes overhead, and he shoots a gloomy look at the sky, but says nothing.
Orihime's smile grows more than a little mischievous. She can think of other ways to surprise him, but suspects Ishida would be much harder to drag up and down hills in a catatonic state.