The reason why I'm uploading this as a new story is because this is going to be a drabble—thingy… sort of. I want to chapters to be coherent but still, the plot is about her life in Hueco Mundo and what they do and how their relationship is going to progress and so on. Since we all know that in the manga, she is rescued and... he dies (*covers ears* LALALALALAA I CANT HEAR YOU HES ALIVE) so this will be considered slight au, but hey who cares.

Each chapter will star a moment of their life together. So I dunno how this will "end" or play out but we'll just have fun and play with it a little. If you have like a proposition or idea of what the next drabble should be, pm me or review!

Have a good day, everyone.

Jerkez

The heavy thunder echoed in the room with the rain thrashing against thick walls that almost resembled armour, but had the posture of a prison cell. Droplets of water fell silently down the impenetrable windows in random patterns and she could do nothing but stare because she had nothing but time. She tried to console herself that everything was going to be just fine, but repeating the same sentence in your head over and over again like a mantra for what feels like an eternity, the words eventually taste bitter with just a hint of forced. There is no light in her large room since she has no lamps with the exception of the discreet moonlight, basking in the shadows of the walls and furniture.

Orihime shivered. It felt like the room was about to get smashed to pieces (wouldn't that be a dream come true, she mused silently) but even if storms like this was rare in Hueco Mundo, she had relived them before and the room had managed to withstand it then. Sadly, it will probably do it now again. She let out a sigh and pulled the ivory blanket around her body tighter and tighter in desperate need of finding warmth (which may be even more rare to find in this gloomy land, Orihime added wryly) until she was almost unable to move at all, her petite fingers paling while holding the soft material like her life depended on it.

The stormy weather continued on and Orihime bit her lip in frustration.

I wonder what the weather in Karakura town is right now… She released her grip on the blanket and counted off each fingertip, continuing on to her right hand. February, March, April, May, June, July, August… Orihime frowned, deep in thought and pouted slightly. It's probably raining. Last August it rained all the time… A smile escaped her lips when a memory started to form.

Ah, Inoue! She turned around slowly but steady when hearing his voice. She was met with the sight of Kurosaki Ichigo running towards her, his wet hair clinging to his forehead and an onyx umbrella in hand.

Kurosaki-kun! What… Orihime was interrupted by Ichigo catching up with her and slumped down, palms on knees and groaned. W—what are you doing?

It's pouring down, moron! He looked up and met her gaze, and pointed towards the onyx umbrella he held in his right hand. And you told me this morning that you had no umbrella. At this, Orihime simply nodded and smiled gently. Well, let's walk together. That way, you can share my umbrella and in exchange, you can get me one of those delicious donuts waiting for me in your house. He grinned. It's a win-win, right?

She could feel her blush creeping up on her, rising like the plague but quickly fought it and gave him a sincere smile instead. Yes!

A pain erupted in her chest whilst reliving her almost forgotten memory, and she quickly closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Her thoughts hadn't been focused on him for quite some time now, as she always found it too difficult to bear. Well, more or less every memory of her old life in Karakura brought her pain but Orihime found it almost impossible to get through the day if she thought of Ichigo. She remembered the day Aizen waltzed into her room and brought her the news of her friend's memory loss; it seemed like every single one of her friends had forgotten about her. Even though he didn't say it out loud, Orihime knew in her heart that he was the one behind it. Then, she had just swallowed the fact and the words on the tip of her tongue and nodded, bringing him no satisfaction to see her broken heart and hear her shattered thoughts that whirled around in her timid body like a storm. Although displeased with her reaction, he had simply smirked at her and then left her room without a single word.

She hadn't seen him since.

Orihime sobbed quietly as she rose from her bed, trying to withhold her gasps when her feet touched the floor. She continued to walk forward, tip-toe, shivering by each touch until she reached her loafers that were positioned next to her wardrobe on the other end of the room. Give me one reason why they can't give me a radiator in here, Orihime thought dryly. She tucked her feet in neatly and emitted a blissful sigh when feeling the warmth creeping up her feet and legs, and then reached for the robe that was folded on her sofa next to it and quickly put it on, smiling at the touch of cotton wool caressing her pale skin. She then walked to the door positioned to her left and raised her hand, lingering on the silver bell proudly placed next to the handle. She touched in gently with her index finger, and let out a tender smile when a machine-like voice appeared through the speakers located above the door.

"Yes, ma'am?"

She could hear the fragile human voice lingering throughout the words, and Orihime couldn't help but wonder what the woman looked like when she was human. "Toast with ham, cheese, beans and garlic, please. And an orange juice, also."

A pause, and then. "Confirmed. It will arrive in precisely seven minutes, sixteen seconds point twenty hundredth, ma'am. Anything else?"

She hesitated. Her finger lingered on the bell until she firmly pressed it again. "Yes. Send Ulquiorra in, please."

Orihime could swear she could hear the woman smile.

"Of course."

He entered without knocking.

His steps echoed in the vast room and the stark white walls darkened when his shadow fell on them, his green eyes focusing on the chestnut-haired woman standing in front of him, fidgeting with her mousy robe and biting her lip. As usual, he dragged along a servant who walked behind him with a vehicle in front of her. Orihime guessed he didn't want to waste his strength of strolling a simple vehicle, or want to be of use and actually help her. God forbid, he might even come across as friendly, or nice! She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but instead let her gaze dart from the servant to the vehicle. It consisted of two toasts, a carafe filled with orange juice, one glass and some napkins tidy placed next to the toasts. As soon as the servant was done with placing the contents on her table and then bowed gently to Orihime, Ulquiorra dismissed her with a snap of his fingers.

When the door closes, she leaps for the toasts.

Ulquiorra rested his eyes on her and raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow slightly. "Felt peckish for some night food?"

Orihime snorts very un-lady like and continues to chew on the slightly burnt toast but she doesn't mind because in secrecy she likes them more that way, and then swallows while brushing her hands on one of the napkins. "Good evening to you too." She reaches for the carafe and starts pouring down that perfect shade of orange down the glass and tries not to think of his hair. "And yes, I was."

He shrugs and watches her strut to the beige chair in the far end of the corner of the room, picks it up lightly and then walks back in a hurried pace and gently places it down next to the table and sits with a sigh. He tries to ignore the smile that tries to form on his face when she grabbed the second toast and takes a mouthful. "So I've noticed."

Orihime nods and flashes him a smile before continuing on to eat in silence.

Ulquiorra crosses his arms across his chest and by letting his gaze linger on her, he once again discover those small yet memorable things she do when she thinks he's not looking. As she silently reaches for her glass, she lifts her pinkie up when drinking and he has no idea why and when trying to look up what it means, he comes across a book that mentions it's a motion common between royals and princesses and he suppresses another smile when he looks at her hair her skin her body and her eyes and realizes that in another world and another time she would probably have been one. When she uses her second napkin to clean her hands she pouts with her lips and squints with her eyes as if she was polishing a vase of worth or working on a masterpiece but in the end all she does is scrubbing her thumb while trying to get off some grease.

He was interrupted by hearing her giggling and he looked up to meet her eyes. "You know, you can sit down." Ulquiorra kept his stoic face and blinked. "I mean, there's an armchair right behind you. That's why I got the chair, because I thought you would sit down…" Orihime trailed off when he just opened his mouth slightly and turned away his gaze.

"That's not necessary."

She smirked. "I'm just asking you to sit down. Standing up all the time must be uncomfortable."

Ulquiorra mentally groaned at her remark. Why was it that this woman initially knew so much about him without even being aware of it, he wondered. His legs ached, he'd just come home from a scouting and the ivory armchair looked more than inviting but he wasn't supposed to be sitting. In fact, he couldn't think of a time where he had been sitting with her, having a conversation and eating toasts together. He frowned. His gaze went to the walls and the large windows, covering most of the right end of the room. After the supposed attack on Hueco Mundo some time back, she was moved to another room to secure her place in this mansion. This one was bigger than the last, sporting a massive twin-size bed with grey sheeting and fluffy pillows, a wardrobe filled with various clothes that her servants gladly made for her, a small table with an armchair and then a sofa positioned on the other end at the room. The chair she had positioned herself on was more or less decoration, or the occasionally "let's place my clothes here because I'm too lazy to walk across the room and fold them" chair.

Orihime whimpered when the thunder rumbled in the distance and echoed in the room, and when thunderbolts lit up the room to an extent where she could see every line of Ulquiorra's unmarred face, she swallowed slowly and gripped the chairs handle silently. "The storm is getting worse, isn't it?"

He sighed. And then there was that. He had unintentionally forgotten about the fact that the last time there was a storm in Hueco Mundo she had called him in to her room and wanted some food to eat as well. Ulquiorra squinted as he leered at her, studying her face and wanted to groan. Orihime nibbled on her lower lip and her petite fingers rested on her lap, curled into two fists. All the signs were there but he had failed to notice them ever since he walked through that door.

And he didn't know why he felt sorry for her.

Ulquiorra sat down with a thud on the armchair and rested his head on the palm of his right hand; elbow positioned on his knee and sighed. "You don't like the thunder."

She immediately stopped her actions, her fingers that were reaching for the glass froze mid-air and her mouth was slightly agape when she turned her eyes to him. He saw her swallow and there was a pregnant pause before she withdrew her hand and groaned lowly. She knew that he wasn't asking her, he was merely stating a fact. "It's been like this since as long I can remember." Orihime shrugged her shoulders and entwined her fingers in her lap. "Whenever there's thunder… I just turn twelve again. Especially when there's lightning bolts too."

He rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to tell her that her mental age probably still is twelve but swallows down the words that lingered in his throat. Ulquiorra leered at her again and tried to determine her real age. When captured, he recalled the report that stated her being almost eighteen of age but time had passed and now was a time where he had a hard time figuring out how old she were. In Hueco Mundo time didn't matter like it usually did in the living world, there were no clocks and when the woman had asked if she could get a calendar, the fourth espada had just smirked as a reply and left her standing in her room without an answer. The fact that he did not know what a calendar was would remain silent.

"Why did you summon me, woman?"

Although Orihime didn't look up she knew and she felt his gaze linger on her, his eyes looking into her very being without realizing it. She swallowed and let herself smile a bit before replying with a soft tone. "I don't know."

"Hn."

She blinked. Had Ulquiorra just uttered a word without necessary meaning, she pondered. Well, that was certainly a first. "What?"

"I know why."

Their eyes met and Orihime just nodded, feeling her eyes tear up but quickly used her hand to brush her tears and emotions away. He didn't say anything more but she knew he had figured it out. She was scared. She really was, and it wasn't just because of the thunder. It was the possibility of staying here, in this gloomy land and boring walls and dim moonlight and no friends in sight, forever. By knowing they wouldn't save her, knowing he wouldn't come running for her and find her and capture her in a embrace whilst whispering the words you'll be fine I promise I'm here now and I'll never let you go again broke her heart more than she ever imagined possible. Even though she knew Ulquiorra did not feel emotions, she had a hunch that he had realized during their time spent together that she was miserable and no amount of dumplings, fluffy pillows and servants to brush your hair in the morning would cure that.

He stared at her, even after she turned her gaze away and looked out the window, droplets continuing to trail downwards and the thunder rumbling in the distance. Orihime frowned and nibbled with her dress, unsure what to do next.

Finally, a sigh escaped her lips. "Can you… stay?"

At this, he simply studied her and considered her request. "For what reason?"

Orihime let herself smile as she silently let her gaze linger on the pale man in front of her. His hair was starting to get longer, brushing past his broad shoulders, she noticed and wondered if he would allow her to cut it for him. It suited him though, she confessed and her gaze travelled up to his neck and towards his angular face. His eyes were focused on solely her, waiting for a response and filled with intensity she did not knew he had. The perfect shade of green stared at her and she found she had trouble breathing properly, and instead focused on his lips. Pale and black, but perfect size, she mused. She tried to ignore the questions that wanted to roam her brain—what's it like to kiss him to feel his breath against your lips to hear him say your name and brush your lips with his tongue and suck on your bottom lip—and inhaled and then exhaled slowly, trying to regain her composure. She tried not to think about it, but sometimes…

(he would sit in the big library and she would swirl around in joy when finding her favourite novel romeo and juliet and when describing the plot and characters he would simply nod but secretly he would listen to her hearing her gentle voice soothing him like a lullaby sung to an infant. when trying on the new dress she would waltz up to him and ask him how she looks since her confidence has never been extremely big and she feels like the dress may be a too tight fit but he just studies her with his somber face and gives a hint of a smile and whispers it's perfect and walks away before she can see him blush.)

When meeting him for the first time, she felt nothing. He may be the very definition of tall dark and handsome, but his cold eyes and broken soul was too much of a problem for her to interact with him and not feel threatened scared angry or sad or everything in between. Deep down, she knew that he used to be human and there were times the words what was your life before this, did you love someone did someone love you back, were you happy, how did you die wanted to escape her mouth but she always pushed them down like bile in her throat because in some sort of wicked way, it was too painful to realize that he used to be like her and her friends and her family and to see what he is now; broken, empty and alone.

Through their time spent together, they had battled and they had fought, she had both laughed and cried and he was the reason for both and even though he was heartless (pun intended) and mean and arrogant, he was so much more deep inside that he locked away the same day he died and became what he is now.

But even though they were the complete opposite of each other, maybe that was the sole thing that brought and kept them together. They were as unlike as the sun and the moon, the gloomy night and shimmering day, stark white and soft black.

She was life and he was death.

Yet, he gave her something she didn't feel before coming here. She felt strong, and independent and wise and she felt courage to speak her mind even though she knew she shouldn't but she did and she felt great. She was talkative and happy like she was before but when interacting with hollows and lesser beings she came to understand so much about just life and what it has in store and most of all, she felt the need to help others, more than she did before.

But mostly…

She looked him in the eyes and smiled. "Do we really need one?"

The courage to feel.

Ulquiorra smirked. "Very well then. But only for a little while."

The courage to believe in love again.

Orihime laughs softly before replying. "Of course."