Title: Don't Let the Cat Out of the Bag
Summary: Orihime and Ichigo were an item when she was kidnapped. A year later, how was he meant to know that she didn't love him anymore? Got a tad carried away with this one, but I like how it turned out. Some lines work in cannon (I'm sure you'll figure out when and where). OOCness of the characters probably, but it's fun to mess 'em around a bit.
Word Count: 5664
Warnings: Language (duh) and Smexxxxy time :P
Genre: Romance / Angst
Rating: M
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or the amazing characters; all credit goes to the brilliant Tite Kubo. Nor do I make any money from these ridiculous plots.
Orihime's body clock worked pretty well: she woke up at about the same time each morning; felt completely drained at about half eleven at night; fed her grumbling stomach at eight, one and six – Orihime could judge the time by how she felt fairly accurately. In fact, she could be moderately certain of what day of the week it was by when her hair needed washing; cramps always made themselves known at the same time of the month and a cycle hadn't gone by when she was a day late.
So Orihime knew she had been in Las Noches for roughly two months now. Little had happened, and as far as she could tell, all of the Arrancar were becoming restless waiting for a fight.
The thoughts of the inevitable fight soon to come sent shivers coursing up and down Orihime's spine, tormenting her with the worst consequences for her decision, but the prospect of seeing 'my' Ichigo before long kept the girl strong. Just thinking his name caused Inoue to fall to her knees; it had only been a short month after the pair had confessed their feelings to one another, the best month of her life, before Ulquiorra had ripped her away from her love.
Orihime gave into her memories as she reminisced over that one summer month of bliss. His gorgeous smile had originally been a rarity but, as days went by, he smiled more often; 'for me'. She didn't realise she was crying until she felt drops of tears land silently on her arms and she wrapped them around her body; holding herself together.
It seemed Orihime had cried herself dry, as now she sobbed empty tears, choked empty coughs and couldn't even sound his name. No matter how much she scolded herself for such dreadful thoughts, such selfish ideas, Orihime could not help but powerlessly ask the night, 'Why has Ichigo not already come for me?'
- - - - -
3rd Month
- - - - -
The first bloody weeks had been absolute crap. If she wasn't crying her friggin' eyes out, she was screaming that flamin' Shinigami's name continuously. Grimmjow had completely disregarded his appreciation for sleep, but soon discovered it when he couldn't get any. Orihime instantly stopped crying when he pounded on the wall, immediately shut up when he stormed in looking ready to kill; but what she said in her sleep was out of her control.
Three months later, the crying seemed to have stopped altogether; or his ears had stopped working. She didn't even whisper his name during the night. Grimmjow might have figured that the girl had given up but, if anything, Orihime's spirit had improved.
Orihime smiled at anyone she passed, regardless of whether they noticed or deserved the gesture. He often heard her laughter from the other side of their wall when someone visited, and, upon occasion, Grimmjow saw interactions with various Espada that could almost be considered flirting.
No, the girl hadn't given up; she'd adjusted.
- - - - -
4th Month
- - - - -
She knew exactly who'd done it, and why. Orihime stared at her bolted door, shivering in the late autumn night, willing her room to become accessible. Clad only in the pyjama set she was provided with, Orihime began shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she tried to keep warm. 'Darn it, Nnoitra'. He'd done it on purpose, led her out of her room and locked it, hoping she'd take him up on his offer that his door was always open to her. Orihime rolled her eyes at the Espada's interest in her, his ridiculous infatuation making her sigh. Her sigh turned into a huff of annoyance, she didn't know where Ulquiorra was and didn't want to wander the entire palace looking for him in her pyjamas (Orihime downright refused to accept Nnoitra's offer) but she was tired; 'and cold'!
'There's always ...' Orihime's mind tempted her towards the door to the adjacent room. He would actually kill her! Or he could, but would he? 'Was he allowed?' No, Aizen wanted to keep her alive. It was a pretty dim idea but the thought of a warm bed was very appealing. 'He may not even be in there,' her conscience coaxed.
Temptation won; Orihime warily approached the entrance before silently easing the door ajar. He was of course in there; it was a long shot anyway. His room wasn't dissimilar to hers, perhaps a little bigger; the main difference being that in place of a dingy single bed stood a generous king sized one.
Orihime edged forwards, eyes fixed upon the sleeping occupant, waiting for the signal to run for her life. At the foot of the bed, Orihime stood motionlessly, petrified to move at all. It was only a matter of time before she woke him, right? The Espada slept stretched out on his back, one arm raised beneath his tangle of cerulean hair, oblivious to her intrusion.
Orihime had never slept in the same bed with someone of the opposite gender before, well perhaps once or twice in her brother's bed when nightmares tore her awake. Even when Ichigo had ended up staying the night he chose to sleep on her couch. The notion of sharing a bed with an enemy, not just a male, should have worried her, but Orihime wasn't bothered about it, only surprised that she had just realised the fact.
Orihime manoeuvred herself to one side of the bed, the side that offered the most room; 'enough room for two of me'. She tentatively inched a hand closer to the sheets, waiting for her arm to be snapped off. Her palm made it close enough to feel the warmth practically radiating from the dormant Arrancar, heat that was far too alluring for the cold human girl to resist.
Barely disturbing the bedspread, Orihime slipped in between the warm sheets and lay on her side, perfectly still and already nearly asleep, despite the obvious danger. She relaxed as the minutes passed by, minutes that didn't feature the Espada's hand piercing her stomach.
It was only when her eyes drooped shut that Orihime knew her luck had run out.
"What the fuck d'ya think you're doin', girl?" Grimmjow demanded, his voice thick with sleep.
Wide silver eyes trembled with the rest of her body, as Orihime desperately struggled to think of an explanation to her stupid visit.
Growing tired of laying next to a human vibrator, Grimmjow abruptly pulled her body flush against his, the heat of his chest scorching her freezing skin through her nightclothes.
"Still cold, are ya?" His grumbled question answered her gasp. She should be petrified; in fact she should be dead. But Orihime found she was helpless to the searing warmth coursing through her body.
Orihime didn't understand his reaction at all, but figured that she'd better be gone before he woke up the next morning. She could live with that.
- - - - -
Although her door was unlocked the next night, her cold empty sheets offered no comfort in comparison to last night's arrangement. Orihime crept into his room again, slept in an oddly comforting death hold around her waist, and left before he woke.
The third night, Orihime didn't slumber quite as quickly as the previous nights. Winter was kicking in now – or Aizen had decided he liked arctic conditions – and Orihime still shivered in the Espada's arms.
Grimmjow pulled her tighter to his body, annoyed at the girl's shaking and lent his cheek against her throat. The contact startled Orihime and her stillness pleased him. She remained motionless, his breathing steadied as he fell asleep again, but slumber could not find her.
It had only been the third night like this but already she felt safe in his hold, no longer afraid if she would see the morning or not. Her thoughts confused Orihime and Grimmjow's intimate hold on her didn't help her perplexity.
She liked this, although she knew he only held her as such so she wouldn't keep him awake, it was somewhat nice. She gently rolled onto her other side, trying not to disturb him, and snuggled into his warm chest, seeking more than just protection from the cold.
When he woke, again, she wasn't there. If it wasn't for that fact Grimmjow could smell that she'd been in his bed, he'd have thought that he'd dreamt her. He liked having her scent there, not just because it confirmed her visits.
- - - - -
The following night was colder, and Orihime was in Grimmjow's bed sooner than previous nights. She didn't bother trying not to wake him – he'd wake up anyway – and immediately pressed her body against his. Orihime felt his body shudder slightly and looked up into amused azure eyes.
"Bloody hell, girl, how d'ya get so fuckin' cold? What d'ya even wear to bed?" He didn't wait for an answer, he just lifted the covers from her body finding it clad in a skimpy black and white pyjama set. He'd bet Aizen had something to do with that, or perhaps Gin. "No wonder you're so damned cold."
"It's this or nothing," Orihime muttered, missing the flash in his blue eyes. "And anyways, what do you even wear to bed?" She tried to imitate his tone as she lifted the sheets out of curiosity. Her grey eyes widened under realisation that Grimmjow chose the latter of her option. She quickly dropped the sheet and attempted to clean out her thoughts.
His laughter distracted her into a pout. "Hey, shut up, you could have warned me, you know." He traded in laughing to pat Orihime on her head patronisingly. Grimmjow knew she'd given up pouting when her breaths became shallow and his hand remained where it landed, stroking her hair absentmindedly.
Orihime came back the next night, obviously not put off by Grimmjow's sleeping attire – or lack of – and didn't even try to distance herself from his person. He might have thought she'd forgotten. Although tonight was warmer than the others had been, she still hugged her small frame to his, possibly closer than before. However, her clinging form was gone before he woke the next morning; why did this make getting up even harder?
In actual fact, he didn't see her all morning, he vaguely remembered Nnoitra saying she wouldn't be at the meeting when Aizen asked. Grimmjow didn't know why he spent the next minute and a half staring at the other Espada, trying to work out what he meant.
Her absence bothered him – even more so that night. It got to well past midnight; he knew she wasn't coming; before he got off his lazy ass. Rational thought was pointless, he discovered, especially if he wanted to stay sane; he simply grabbed a pair of hakamas before stalking next door.
It wasn't until he was staring at the plain white frame that he honestly wondered as to the reason of her absence, 'had Nnoitra hurt her for real this time?' The girl's door burst open quicker than he intended.
- - - - -
Orihime's shuddering breath awoke her from much needed sleep. She knew she wasn't alone anymore and hoped that if it was Ulquiorra, he would just leave her alone today. Her head still throbbed from this morning's headache, and her ribs clung to her body painfully after the countless times she had thrown up. She hadn't had a migraine in a few months but in honesty she should have been expecting one.
Looking back, Nnoitra's response had been comical but he left without too much trouble. Ulquiorra's reaction wasn't to be expected either: the smell of her lunch had Orihime rushing to her en suite. By the time she crawled out of her bathroom, Ulquiorra and lunch were long gone.
She hadn't been ill since late afternoon and Orihime now assumed that she had just about slept the nausea away – but she still didn't want to deal with any of her captors. That was until the intruder clambered into her single bed next to her. Inoue sighed contentedly, instantly realising who her companion was.
He didn't know what to ask; naturally, he didn't want her to know her missed her, and equally so he didn't want her to know that he worried – however briefly. "Suddenly scared off, were we?" Grimmjow kept his voice teasing.
"No," Orihime's hoarse response came as she tried to explain. "I wasn't feeling too great today. I didn't want to disturb you like this all night ..."
"Do you want me to go?" His now-serious voice cut her off.
"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable - "
"I asked, 'do you want me to go?'" Impatience was evident as Grimmjow's voice repeated roughly.
"No," Orihime sighed, he strained body already relaxing in his gentler-than-normal hold. He moved his form around hers, giving her as much room as she wanted or comforting her as need be. Although she didn't wake up during the night, Grimmjow figured that he would have stayed – helped, even if she didn't ask – had she been ill.
It took him until morning to realise that he was genuinely concerned for her. Then he understood why every morning, she was never still with him. Grimmjow departed before the slumbering girl woke, internally arguing with the multiples of new sentiments.
- - - - -
The following night, Orihime made her way to the adjacent room without trepidation knowing full well that her neighbour wanted her presence as much as she needed his. No matter his reasons, Orihime greatly appreciated Grimmjow's company last night. Upon entering his room, the girl immediately noted that although the teal haired Arrancar attempted to appear asleep, he was obviously awake, waiting to see if he would have to go to her room tonight.
With new found enthusiasm, Inoue skipped lightly across the room and landed comfortably by the now very awake Espada.
"What's got you so fuckin' giddy?" Grimmjow didn't fool her with his fake groggy voice. All the girl did was giggle at him before snuggling into his warm bed, her chilled form flush against his heated one. Orihime may not have noticed, but Grimmjow sure as hell observed that her left leg had managed to wrap itself around his own.
Before any interesting thoughts could pass though his mind, Orihime altered her position so that her cheek rested on his chest and he felt her fingertips trace lines over his abdomen.
At first, the hole in the Espada's stomach caught her attention, but as her eyes drifted, Orihime noticed the soft blue hairs that led down to beneath the sheets. Her fingers found themselves following the trail downwards slowly.
Grimmjow was well aware that Orihime had no intentions similar to what his head did, but damn it, the girl was teasing him! He didn't need any more frustration on top of waiting for a fight so she needed to stop, now; before he went mad. He needed to scare her, just enough to make her back off from him, to remind her that she can't be so comfortable around him.
Orihime's forgotten ministrations were unexpectedly interrupted by Grimmjow's hand grabbing her wrist, easily stopping the movements. Before she could voice her question, he jerked her hand down over the sheets, making her aware of his now obvious arousal.
Her gasp was answered by his suddenly menacing growl in her ear. "You'd better fuckin' stop, girl" Orihime's body shook violently, the vibrations causing Grimmjow to try to bite back a groan. She missed nothing, and she knew that the sound wasn't of anger. Her shaking ceased, knowing that his anger had faded, but her hand remained where it was, suddenly inquisitive.
Orihime's fingers stroked over his length through the sheets and his unrestrained growl of pleasure made her tilt her head to look up at him. His intense blue stare met her inquiring gaze and when she slid her hand beneath the sheets without warning and held his erection, the Espada's eyes widened in surprise before closing with gratification.
Grimmjow's brows furrowed and his expression immediately held concentration and control. He lifted his hand to tilt her head to the side of his, and his husky whisper surprised Orihime.
"You'd better stop, 'cause I ain't gonna," He meant to scare her, or at least warn her. But instead, her hand gripped him tighter and his restraints snapped.
One minute Orihime was half resting on his chest and the next she was pinned beneath his body, his mouth was upon hers in a scorching kiss.
Her lips melted into his attentions and she instantly allowed entry to his probing tongue. Grimmjow's hands, previously tightly gripping her waist, now made quick work of her clothes, ripping anything that couldn't be removed in less time.
Time stood still in Orihime's mind, days could have passed as she lost herself in his kiss, but before she knew what had happened, she was just as bare as the Espada. While his searching hands roamed to her cleavage, Grimmjow's hungry mouth never left hers. He grinned against her lips when she gasped as his fingers pinched her left nipple lightly; her gasp turned into a moan when his other hand caressed her right breast.
She was unaware how long he played with her body, forcing her to make the sexiest of moans he'd ever heard. The best of them all, though, was her disappointed whine when his right hand abandoned her sensitive nipple, followed by a gasp of surprise and pleasure when the very same hand stroked her along her core.
As he slipped a long finger inside her heat, Orihime automatically bit down on her bottom lip and Grimmjow's eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head when he felt just how wet and tight she was. Holding back the growl that was threatening to escape, the Arrancar sucked Orihime's bruised lip into his hungry mouth and kissed her, feeling she was just as needy as he was, while his hand continued to make her body sing for him.
Her hands held on to his back with earnest, her nails dug into his skin with little effect. Having been previously unoccupied, she brought one hand down and across his hip, seeking his arousal that not too long ago had been in her hand. Grimmjow could not control his groan when he felt her small hand wrap around his cock, and he instinctively leaned his hips into her touch.
She could feel the tension building; her lower stomach was all in knots. With every movement his digit inside of her made, the knot tightened, making her want to scream in pleasure and agony at the same time. His fingers on her right nipple increased the tension and when the Espada above her curled his finger inside of her slightly, she saw white. Her first orgasm drowned everything out as the tension snapped; she didn't realise that she screamed his name.
Her hot, wet walls clamped around his finger, causing his cock to twitch with need. The waves of bliss were still coursing through her and Grimmjow took advantage of that moment. He lined himself up against her dripping core and entered her quickly, knowing her orgasmic high would distract her from the sharp pain.
Grey eyes, now sparkling silver, snapped open, not in pain but with shock. She felt stretched, but not in an uncomfortable way, in fact the sensations coursing through her body were magical. Her hands climbed up his back to hold onto his neck tightly as he thrust relentlessly into her heat.
He gave her no opportunity to relax from her own nirvana and it seemed only mere minutes of perfect movements distorted her breathing until Orihime was gasping for air as Grimmjow induced another frenzy of orgasmic bliss. He didn't slow for her; to be honest Orihime may have thought he didn't notice her struggle to remain on this plain had she not seen his devilishly handsome smirk in response to her writhing body.
Pleased with her reactions to his less than gentle behaviour, Grimmjow lifted Orihime's hips slightly, deepening the angle, and dug into her body harder. With every rough entry, he felt her core grow tighter around his length, and in turn he entered her harder. Evidently, the girl was less breakable than he previously thought; he wanted to know how far she could go.
Before he could see how fragile she was, her body rippled again as another climax drowned her, one that practically had Grimmjow counting backwards to ignore. When her pussy relaxed its vice grip hold on his cock, he lifted Orihime's body and pinned her against the wall at the head of the bed.
Orihime opened her eyes as she felt her sweating body be slammed into the cold wall, a captivating contrast to Grimmjow's warm body. She'd never liked pain, but every time she felt him slam into the back of her core, the pleasure magnified unbelievably. Inoue wrapped her legs around his waist, now straddling his lap and her hands clung to his shoulders.
She looked up into his teal eyes when she felt his movements lose their rhythm and the intense look of lust in Grimmjow's eyes almost had her coming right there and then. Being unable to resist any longer, Orihime yanked Grimmjow forward by his neck and pulled him into a needy kiss, battling with his tongue for dominance.
Her clenching walls fluttered around him and he felt her tongue give into his in defeat as her moans built up in volume, all the time her body quivered around him. Grimmjow's will power thinned and his jerky thrusts stilled as her climax ridden body forced his own explosive release.
His forehead crashed to her shoulder as the pair attempted to catch their breaths. By the time he slid out of her exhausted body, Orihime was already asleep. Grimmjow rearranged her slumbering, glistening body so that she rested upon his chest – exactly as she had before everything between them changed.
Or so he thought; the morning was no different. Grimmjow woke alone.
- - - - -
She had woken up as soon as she had felt it, that familiar 'and safe' spiritual pressure. After all of the months she had waited, when he finally turned up, why – oh why – did Orihime wish he hadn't? She knew he'd search for her, follow her aura until he found her, but he couldn't find her here 'in his bed'. It was only then that Orihime realised exactly what she had done, not only had she betrayed Ichigo, but she had betrayed him with his rival.
- - - - -
Ichigo had taken far longer than necessary, and he regretted that. He should have ignored everything that held him back to rescue Inoue but he couldn't abandon Rukia, not once or any of the countless times. But he was here now, so close that he'd be able to hold her today.
'There!' he felt her spiritual pressure, stronger than before. Ichigo didn't care what stood in his way, he'd get there.
- - - - -
Her scent was weaker than previous mornings, informing Grimmjow that she had departed hours ago. Now he realised how calming he found her scent; the withdrawal symptoms became known as frustration and 'confusion' tore through his body.
Grimmjow got out of bed and dressed – slower than normal – while he tried to reason with his emotions. He didn't know why he had expected anything to be different, less so why he was disappointed that nothing was. 'Damned human emotions are fuckin' infectious!'
It was only after unsuccessfully trying to vent his annoyance upon an unsuspecting wall that Grimmjow noticed the presence of that damned Shinigami's spiritual pressure. Putting two and two together, he realised why Orihime had gone. He bitterly thought of the loving reunion they'd have in such a damned place 'surrounded by hollows' but found that that just pissed him off further.
- - - - -
She loved Ichigo – 'right?' – that's why she was forcing him to get her out of Hueco Mundo as fast as possible, to protect him from more violence ... and what he doesn't need to know. So if Orihime loved Ichigo, why did it feel like she was leaving part of herself behind?
"Ya think ya can just charge into enemy HQ, pick up the cargo and 'spect to get out scot free, huh?" The voice ripped Orihime from her thoughts but she quickly remembered that she had to fear that voice again, or at least act like she did.
"Well, Kurosaki?" Grimmjow demanded, advancing at a leisurely pace. "Or have ya really reached all new levels of stupid?
Ichigo took the bait perfectly, and Inoue was solitary as the Substitute Soul Reaper charged at the Sexta Espada. Using snide remarks and half-hearted blows, Grimmjow lured Ichigo away from the girl and the pair of opposites traded blows, however the blue haired party seemed to be merely enjoying a game.
Once he had put enough distance between the two humans, Grimmjow utilised his superior Sonido to appear directly behind Orihime before Ichigo could blink.
"Lemme ask you, Kurosaki ... what did you come here for anyway?" He made no threat to the girl, but the Sixth knew he'd take it as one.
Ichigo didn't trust the apparent calmness in the normally extremely violent Espada. He cautiously kept his ground – all the time he wasn't touching Orihime. "That's obvious, isn't it? To rescue Inoue!"
Orihime knew what was coming. As hypocritical as it seemed and as much as she deserved whatever the hollow threw at her, it hurt to think that what they'd 'done' last night was just to hurt Ichigo. She knew she had contributed to his forthcoming pain – in fact, she was the root of it – but she didn't want him to feel it. She'd rather suffer all the pain herself, but that wouldn't happen; the world wasn't that balanced.
"Hah!" Grimmjow's outburst startled her from her musings, and she realised that she was crying. He didn't leave it there though. "Then why didn't you take her the minute you saw her ... and just run away from here?"
She saw it, the confusion and guilt on Ichigo's face. She hated that he felt bad for something so insignificant, but Orihime suddenly wondered what had taken him so long. Her thoughts were once again cut short.
"Or did it relax you to see her unhurt?" Grimmjow inched towards Orihime, not unnoticed by Ichigo. Grimmjow didn't like what he was about to do, only because it was about fuck all he could do. "I bet you didn't even wonder what was going on inside of her!"
Orihime knew that she'd never be able to hide what had changed within her from Kurosaki now, nor conceal the part she had left behind.
"You bastards, what did you do to Inoue?" Orihime didn't miss the use of the plural and thanked whoever was listening that Ichigo hadn't worked anything out. But before Grimmjow could change that, she had to do something.
"Santen Kesshun, Koten Zanshun, I reject, I reject," Orihime whispered and although both males heard her, it was too late. Tsubaki forced Ichigo further away while she secluded herself and Grimmjow behind a doming barrier.
"Don't," Orihime pleaded, heavy eyes not meeting his speculating gaze. She didn't know how she would feel or react if she made contact with his hypnotic blue stare. "Just please, don't" She didn't hold much hope, but she had to try.
"What the fuck should I care?" He tried to keep his voice nonchalant.
"What difference does it make?" Orihime turned away from him in exasperation and in an attempt to hide her heavy flow of tears. She didn't know what else to say, it was almost a lost cause. She gave it one last shot. "Does it really bother you that much? That I'm leaving with him?"
That question caught him off guard, ironically since he'd been asking himself exactly that for the past hour or so. In his hesitation, Orihime had lowered the barrier and Ichigo seized Orihime and fled, taking Grimmjow's advice from before.
It was a few minutes before Grimmjow turned to leave the vicinity, the humans long gone. Then he realised what he'd done: not only had he literally let the enemy escape – Aizen was going to make him pay for that one – but he realised that it did bother him that Ichigo had taken her. That he had taken what was his. 'Shit.'
- - - - -
He'd been worried that they would have come after her again; Ichigo had never left her apartment for the entire two months she had been back. He figured that she was just as nervous too, if the alterations within her were anything to go by.
He wanted more than anything to know what had happened to her there, what the hell they had done to her, but he refused to bring up the subject and put her through it all again. Ichigo hoped that time would heal her eventually.
Orihime was well aware now that subconsciously she had been trying to push Ichigo away, that a part of her being rejected everything about him. She tried to force that part out of her system, and Orihime became almost artificially attached to Ichigo, the connections made always slightly false.
Their relationship had progressed forward, physically. At first Ichigo had assumed that Inoue didn't want to spend the nights alone after her ordeal, and eventually wanted to replace bad memories with good ones. But as experiences had built up, he found he couldn't hold and protect her quite right; he couldn't understand her as well as before; he couldn't touch her quite right.
Orihime needed more than his gentle love; more than his protection. She wanted lust and passion; she wanted pain. All things Ichigo could never give her. She realised she needed some time to sort her messed up head out, time that Ichigo would never grant her. They were stuck in a rut.
Everything became clear when that familiar spiritual pressure announced the presence of a certain Espada. Ichigo could practically feel the exhilaration emanating from Orihime and he instantly knew. He didn't ask questions; he just left. Orihime saw the look in his copper eyes, the intent of a hunter.
He locked the door on his way out, locking her in. Orihime now had to sit around her apartment like nothing life changing was going on in the world, waiting. She didn't know what outcome she was hoping for; of course she knew what she should be praying for, but that thought scared her still. She didn't want either of them to die; she hated herself for that.
In a moment of clarity, Orihime suddenly saw that Ichigo had probably known – or at least to some extent – everything all along. So did that mean he had left with envy in his heart? Orihime didn't think so, his eyes displayed anger – not aimed at her however. She realised now that Ichigo had left to defend her from the Espada's offence: that her feelings were tossed aside so degradingly. Even though she had betrayed him, Ichigo still wanted to defend her.
And that meant by killing Grimmjow. That was why he had locked her in, trapped her; because as irrational as it sounded, Inoue didn't want Grimmjow dead and Ichigo knew it. Fuelled with determination, Orihime let herself out with the aid of Tsubaki, only to be stopped by the tall figure of the teal-haired Arrancar approaching her apartment.
'Not covered in blood, that's a good start.' Orihime instantly met Grimmjow's blue gaze and her reaction was just as to be expected: the whole 'butterflies in stomach and heart doing back-flips' deal. "What happened?" Orihime managed to whisper.
"The fucker ain't dead, if that's what you're askin'" Grimmjow replied abruptly.
"He let you get away?" Orihime wondered, her voice thick with disbelief.
"Somethin' like that." He didn't want to admit it, but the Shinigami had stopped fighting as soon as he realised why Grimmjow was here.
Orihime didn't like how she wanted to advance, to get closer to what she had missed in the last two months, while Grimmjow just seemed to hover unaffectedly. Eventually, she voiced her insecurity. "Why are you here, Grimmjow?"
"That's obvious, isn't it?" Grimmjow suddenly moved forward, so quick that when Orihime blinked, Grimmjow was unexpectedly directly before her; close enough that they were almost touching.
Orihime looked up, startled by the amount of emotion swimming in his blue eyes, 'could that be affection? No.'
Quicker than Orihime would have thought possible, Grimmjow had pulled her body flush against his and dropped his chin to her shoulder, his mouth caressing her ear with the words her heart was desperate to hear."To claim what's mine."
Grimmjow smirked as he felt her heart skip several beats but it was Orihime who pulled them together in a heated kiss. Her kiss was filled with all of her relief as her insecurities washed away while his contained the true extent of his sentiments towards her.
It was strange that in such a little amount of time, her life had become dependent on one being, even stranger was who that being was. Grimmjow didn't understand what about her that he found so addictive and why his very existence needed her so, but he stopped trying to understand.
The complexities of what they found a perfect 'love' were insignificant to the wars around them. They both knew that their lives would be easier that if each time they tried to say goodbye, they meant it, but in all reality, they couldn't. No, they just had to be careful – very careful – about their secret.
