A/N I don't know why Christmas is such a trigger. Anyways, couldn't stop my imagination; hence, here's a mini-drabble.
Mistletoe
When Kurosaki-kun smirked gleefully, pointing at the green plant above their heads, Orihime fluttered her hands about, desperate not to make the stoic noble next to her uncomfortable.
"It's just a Western tradition, Kurosaki-kun. Byakuya-san isn't obliged to…"
It was the lightest touch on her arm which paused her.
Byakuya gently tilted the younger girl's face, granite eyes inscrutable.
"I was brought up in traditions and customs. Who am I to break any?"
Lips descended on rosy lips – a chaste kiss, like the brushing, lingering stroke of a sakura petal on dew.
A/N I do not own Bleach.