Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. I still wish to have Grimmy, though.
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Make Me Feel
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The moon was as alien as usual, so unlike the moon she knew from the real world. That moon seemed to shine with a silvery glow, so peaceful, so romantic, so lovely. This moon was harsh, dull and unnatural, this moon that made her remember her captor so much, her current and only companion in her captivity.
She spent too much time locked up in that cell, steadily getting close to that edge of madness that was waiting for her; but she fought it with all she had when she heard that indifferent voice, that unexpressive voice that scorned her, humiliated her, but that also seemed to sound so lonely, calling for her.
That same guardian, the Arrancar that kept his confusion at bay when seeing that she refused all the proffered foods, letting herself die in some sort of passive suicide. The woman was annoying, a nuisance... but he couldn't stop himself from seeing her, not because she was his charge, but because... it was rather interesting to see her reactions.
Until the moment he opened the door in his usual manner and found her on the bed, passed out from the lack of nurturing. Her cheeks were hollow and she had dark marks under her eyes that denoted how little she rested, occupying herself in watching the moon and crying because of her nakama's fates and well-beings.
This concept was indeed very odd for him, as he couldn't understand why a human could fail to take care of themselves because of some worry, some anguish, some grief.
She had repeated it to him several times, some of them patiently, some of others in tears, some others in desperate yelling. When someone cares for another, the interest for their well-being was going to be present always. And the sadness that was felt when the other was down, it was called caring, too. And also the shared joy when everybody was happy... everything was but that, caring, love.
In the end, he only concluded one thing: human emotions and feelings were more complex than he first expected.
Thinking about the best way to get her to eat without using his excessive strength (because it was clear that the woman was fragile, but not frail), the Espada proceeded to make her react in the most practical manner: lifting her in his arms and making her sit in a suitable anatomical position to feed her.
She opened her eyes with a sigh, muttering his name ever so lowly. This was rather strange but he continued force-feeding her. Between bites, the woman seemed to take conscience upon what was she doing -eating- and rejected the next fork full of food.
"You need to eat," it was all he said.
She shook her head obstinately and pressed her lips sealed. This, instead of annoying him, surprised him. Even broken inside, full of fear and something called anguish and practically near death because of starvation, she kept adamant in her stubbornness.
"Why you don't want to eat?" he asked her again, waiting for a more elaborate answer now that she seemed weak. She moved her lips complying, but no sound came out. He had, then, to lean in his ear to her mouth to make out her fevered whispers.
"Because I rather die that see everybody hurt..."
This was an entire new concept. Self-sacrifice wasn't contemplated among the myriad of sentiments that she kept tied in a necklace around her neck. The stand up for someone was understandable, but... dying for someone?
Then he remembered that, if the case arose and the order came, he was more than pleased to die for his creator and leader. Aizen-sama.
Truly, he could process this concept much more easily than the others. Many of them he didn't understand, as much as he saw them reflected in the feminine face he had within reach. A face that he had seen shift and reform with so many expressions that in several occasions the changing speed made him feel a little bit dizzy.
But it wasn't the time to ponder about that.
"Your friends are here. Are you going to let yourself die before they find you?"
The gray eyes widened in a manner that he identified as surprise. He detailed every spark of emotion cursing across those soul windows: joy, regret, determination, optimism, worry, sadness. Then, her eyes closed and she accepted the next bite with a lowered head. She had lost the battle of the moment.
The plate was cleared after all.
"Why?" he heard her murmur while he was retreating to the door. Turning his eyes over his shoulder, he noticed that she was looking back at him intriguingly.
"Please elaborate your question," he pointed out.
"Why do you care if I live or die?"
"...Aizen-sama's orders."
She smiled sadly and looked away.
"I understand. I'm sorry to bother you."
"It was nothing, you don't need to apologize," he answered politely, although inwardly he failed to see the point in expressing regret for something this unimportant.
"I rather to do it," she said in a low voice. "How can you be so impassive with all that you see, Ulquiorra-san?"
"I don't have emotions."
To his interior astonishment, she smiled again and let out a little laugh audibly enough to qualify it as a mocking laugh.
"I can't believe that," she said. "Everyone has emotions, although there are some that we show more than others."
"Are you mocking me, woman?"
"Orihime."
He stared at her, while she turned her head to the window, to that dusty moon that filled more than half of her captive and framed landscape.
"My name is Inoue Orihime, not woman. Please call me by my name, Ulquiorra-san."
"As you wish," he responded automatically, exiting the cell and closing its door heavily.
Three days passed before he was informed again that she was neglecting her food.
This situation was becoming a tad repetitive, so he concluded that a categorical and definite intervention was necessary.
When opening the door, he found her prostrated again, this time on the sofa. She seemed really weak, with hollow cheekbones and a paleness that rivaled his. This vision bothered him.
"Inoue Orihime," he addressed her coldly. "You have been starving yourself again."
She opened her eyes slowly, fixing them on his.
"I'll eat if you tell me the meaning of the word 'feeling'."
"It is rather useless to try to make me lose my patience, onna. That word is not in my vocabulary."
"You lie," she said lightly. "You have feelings, I can see them even if your face doesn't show them. You didn't kill Kurosaki-kun because... you considered it a waste of time, ne, Ulquiorra-san? What you really felt was pity... the same pity you feel when you look at me."
"You annoy me, I do not pity you."
"Annoyance is a feeling, Ulquiorra-san."
He didn't contradict her. There was no reason to argue something so inane and pointless. He observed her as she stood up slowly, grasping one of the sofa arms not to lose her balance. However, when trying to approach him, she stumbled with her own feet.
Automatically, his arms wrapped around her body, supporting her and breaking the fall. It was obvious that she would have hurt herself if she hit the floor. That was why, logically, he stopped the gravity process with his arms to avoid any more complications.
It was only belatedly that he noticed that her body and surprised features were close, very close to him.
"Ulquiorra-san..." she murmured, with a faint tinge on her cheeks but her eyes determined nonetheless. "Do you feel my heart beating?"
"Yes."
"My heart beats with feelings. What about yours? Have you heard it, some time?"
"I do not have time for this nonsense," he said, but the coldness was absent from his tone. "I have come to warn you for the last time that you must eat, otherwise..."
He didn't finish his threat. The woman's warm fingers were running down the zipper of his jacket, uncovering his Hollow hole resting at the base of his neck.
Sliding the tip of her fingers around the edges of it, he clearly felt a shiver and tensed all his muscles in a total alertness response... pressing the onna's body closer to his.
"You must stop doing that."
"Ulquiorra-san... what does it feel, having this?"
Her words were dripping sincere curiosity, even when her own body was tilted against his because of her lack of strength to stand up correctly.
"I do not feel anything, only your fingers."
She didn't answer, leaning her forehead on the Hollow hole. She had a fever; he noted distractedly, her warmth spreading over the contact zone, making him feel it.
"Orihime."
He had heard Noitora talking -against his best reserves- about something called 'a hot lover's touch'. Although, of course, he referred to it in a rather contemptuous and leering manner, something that he, Ulquiorra, disapproved greatly, but he understood that the warmth because of the touch, because of the contact, was beyond any perverted description made by the tall and rather stupid lower-rank Espada.
That was why he didn't avert the brush of her lips against his, classifying its significance already, its meaning, its consequences...
Until he discerned that... thiswas a kiss, and the only way to understand a kiss was by feeling it.
Sensation. It wasn't the same as feeling, but both concepts went together.
He corresponded to the kiss with the hesitation of a beginner and his eyes open, he didn't want to miss a thing; he tensed under his white garments when he perceived those inquisitive fingers running over his cold skin. Supporting her, he actually allowed her experimentations, acknowledging more sensations, more caresses, more effects.
Until the male part of his being, the very same he had suppressed in the exact moment that Aizen had offered him a position among the high Espada ranks, surfaced gradually, making him act by instinct.
His hands moved against Orihime, while she sighed and shivered under his touch.
He found out that her skin wasn't actually as pale as his, and that despite her confinement, she hadn't lost her terseness and freshness. He found out that she was ticklish at the sides of her waist, answering that conjecture he had had since he'd taken up the role as her guardian that she hadn't lost her ability to laugh.
Soft laughs that melted into sighs under the inexperienced but curious hands of the Cuarto Espada.
Sighs that became moans as he stirred up a certain heat inside her, moving his fingers as instinct indicated him, finding that she was still pure, fact that made him react in a more primal and energetic manner.
She allowed him to lie on top of her soft body, biting her lip because of the pain she felt but arching her back altogether, welcoming him.
Fingers that intertwined in his hair, avoiding the osseous mask while his tongue found and ran on the shapely globes that swelled under his attentions.
Fingers that dug into his back when instinct transformed into urgency, while his hips moved in a rhythm that was set by their accelerated breaths.
Fingers that grasped the rounded and soft hips when she threw her head back and repeated that little cry that she emitted before -when his fingers had been where he was currently-, while closing tightly around him, pulling him deeper and deeper, threatening his control.
Fingers that slid randomly on his back when he fell on top of her, trying to regain a breathe that he didn't know how he'd lost, laying his head between Orihime's breasts while she circled his now warm body with her arms.
"How does it feel?" she asked, one more time.
"As if... as if I encountered something that... completed me."
She didn't answer then, content with shivering under the new manifestation of desire that she felt inside her.
If this was feeling... well then, this new concept would need to be considered in a much more detailed manner.
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- Tenna' ento lye omenta -