Orihime's back was as smooth as freshly-dried concrete. Pretty and pristine. Rukia laid her ear against Orihime's back and listened to the steady beat of Orihime's heart.
She was glad to have Orihime back. Rukia's shoulders weren't strong enough to bear the weight of her absence. God, if Orihime, had died, Rukia was sure the world would crash and burn like a car accident. The idea alone made Rukia's chest tense with anxiety.
"This is really good, Rukia!" Orihime chirped. They ate together on the porch that outlooked a koi pond. Rukia shovelled her pork bowl down much faster so she could hold Orihime. Ukitake-taichou would scold her if he ever found out Rukia prioritized snuggling over sustenance, but he'd live.
All Rukia really wanted was for Orihime to be comfortable. When she awaited her execution, she missed the little things: running water, warm meals and chilled beer, pajamas. Hueco Mundo was hardly hospitable. She figured Orihime would appreciate any mundane gesture, like food Rukia made herself.
She couldn't help but smile as her suspicions were confirmed.
"God, seriously, everything tasted like sand. I found sand everywhere. I was never even in the dunes, and yet, there was so much fucking sand. Sand in my food, sand in my hair. Some sand even clogged the sink."
Rukia laughed. "That's terrible."
"Like, beat me up anyday, I can just heal myself, but I can't fix food. I even tried. Turns out the sand sneaks in during preparation. It's so gross."
She rubbed her cheek on Orihime's shoulder. Thankfully, sand wasn't anywhere to be found in the Seireitei except in the rock gardens. The kitchen was far from any rock garden.
Orihime set aside her bowl (emptied of pork, rice, and peppers.) Rukia scoot aside, leaned back on her hands, and watched Orihime's eyes flutter shut as she laid down. "I'm so full," Orihime said, "I'm scared I'll turn into cow."
Rukia snort. She was grateful Orihime's absurdity was intact. It was easy to lose oneself in captivity.
Her arm was taken hold of by Orihime, and she was pulled down to her side. The wood was hard. Orihime was much softer, and warm. Rukia curled up next to her with their legs tangled together. It was heavenly to be back in Orihime's arms.
Their breathing synced. They were quiet but it was like a metronome in front of her. Hypnotic. She count to with it, and it made her very sleepy.
"I love you. I missed you," Rukia said.
Orihime kissed her forehead. "I love you too."
For their first confession, there were no fireworks. None of that cheesy stuff she came across in manga a handful of months ago. But it made Rukia feel light, airy. Maybe she'd feel differently if they ever kissed. When they kissed, she hoped.
Orihime was luxurious, more luxurious than any of Rukia's kimono or the couches throughout the manor. She was pretty damn lucky.