Cruising For Love

by StrawberryMerry

Orihime asks Ulquiorra to accompany her on a cruise to Hawaii. Unbeknownst to them, it's a couple's cruise. Forced to share a bed and pretend they're married, the two struggle with their growing feelings for each other.

11. Curious

Curious

The first thing she was aware of when she awoke in the morning was how sore her entire body felt, and the incredible firmness of the mattress beneath her. The second thing that had her brain working way too much way too soon was the way the bed seemed to be…breathing. It was this strange marvel that finally convinced her to open her eyes, only to see nothing but beautiful snow-white skin.

Ulquiorra…

It didn't take her very long after grasping what she was seeing to realize what she was sleeping on. Or rather, who she was sleeping on. And she didn't have to look to know the position they'd been sleeping in all night. She could feel him beneath her, and how her chest was pressed to his, and how his slender hips were settled quite comfortably between her parted thighs. A blush rose on her cheeks when she realized one of his hands had slipped beneath the back of her shirt. She could feel each of his slender fingers pressed to the skin of her lower back, but her embarrassment was not enough to stop the small smile from appearing on her face. His arms were like a steel embrace that she could not escape from without waking him, which she had absolutely no desire to do.

They had fallen asleep on top of the covers, and yet, she was so warm. Her forehead was pressed against his neck, and she could smell the soft scent of ash and sea salt on his skin. Just barely moving her head, she gazed up to see his face tilted towards her, peacefully relaxed in sleep. His raven hair had fallen across part of his face and onto his cheek, only exaggerating the contrast between his flawless porcelain skin and inky hair. The sheer perfection of his features never failed to astound her, and she again lost countless of unnoticed minutes simply watching him sleep. But when she was with him, her time was never wasted.

It was strange, this feeling she had for him. Closing her eyes, she tried to concentrate on his gentle breathing while she mulled over how to describe the wonderful sensation in her chest. She felt as if millions of magnificent words and phrases were caught on the tip of her tongue, and it seemed that the only one that her mind could pull out of these elusive expressions was: happy. She was positive that for the remainder of their time together, however long that may be, her smile would never die or even falter in brilliance.

Discreetly, she moved one of her hands from his chest to the dip in his neck where she traced an invisible circle with her fingertip. She thought back to th—

A gentle hand wrapped around hers, stopping her finger. She inhaled sharply, not expecting him to be awake. Lifting her head, she peered down into his face. "Ul-Ulquiorra? When did you wake up?"

"Where are you touching, onna?" He had no intention of answering her question, because he'd actually awoken a while before her. For those few minutes, he'd finally had the chance to bask in absolute content. He would've remained as he was, looking peacefully asleep, if it had not been for her sudden desire to softly touch his skin. There were just some things he knew that he could not handle, and her very nearly caressing his skin was one of them.

He angled his head so he could look down into her now flustered face. He was purposefully being confrontational, but he had decided that there was no reason he shouldn't be. If he wanted to know something, he would ask, and he was confident that she was honest enough to answer, even though it embarrassed her beyond all reason.

"I-I didn't know you were awake…" She said in an anxious rush, tiptoeing around his question, although it only sounded like a shameful excuse. Touching him while he was asleep was worse than if he was awake. She'd been caught, and now she had to suffer the mortifying consequences. It wasn't helping that their faces were so close. She couldn't breathe air, that didn't smell of him, to clear her senses. He was wonderfully intoxicating. In an effort to put some distance between them so she could think clearly, she pushed herself up into a sitting position, not noticing the provocative position of her legs still straddling his hips. As a result, the tapered hem of her skirt rose ever so slightly on her smooth legs. The pressure all of her weight was putting on his groin was terribly wonderful, and Ulquiorra's brow twitched unnoticeably and his teeth ground silently in his mouth. She could be insufferable, but it was always unintentional.

It was after a short moment that he realized he still had her hand in his. Curling his fingers around hers, he pressed them to the hollow of his throat. Watching her face, he noticed the way her eyes glazed over in wonder, which made him curious. She seemed to have a sort of strange fixation with this part of him, and he wondered if she even realized it.

She could feel it beneath her fingertips—his alive, throbbing pulse. It beat quickly and hard, and she felt her own breathing quicken as she concentrated on it. It was almost as if she could feel his heart pulsing through her fingers and beating in time with her own. It was so alive and strong. It was beautiful. "Ulquiorra?" Her eyes returned to his. "Do you feel anything?"

He hadn't expected her to ask this, and her question caught him off guard. She was always full of surprises. He watched her silently for a few seconds, unsure of how to answer.

Seeing that he was lost, she expounded her question. "Like happy or sad or angry? Things like that."

Unexpected relief swept through him, and he realized he'd been subconsciously fearing that she was asking if he felt anything right now at this very moment with her. "Why are you concerned if I can feel, onna?" He released hold of her hand and she pulled it away and unconscientiously rested it on his stomach.

"It would just upset me if you didn't," she admitted honestly, tucking some of her hair behind her ear.

He stared up at her, his face as unreadable as ever. It was when he saw that his silence was making her feel awkward that he finally spoke, although his words offered her no form of relief. "You should not feel so concerned over something so trivial."

Her eyes immediately snapped to his, and he witnessed the quick flare of fiery frustration within her silvery depths. "It's not trivial." She wasn't sure where all of this was coming from. Perhaps she was just feeling insecure. "It's important."

"To you," he stated, bluntly.

She paused for a moment. She wasn't able to deny it, because it was true. His feelings were more important to her than he would ever know. "But do you?" As usual, when she found herself asking him a significant question, her gaze fell away from his.

There were times when she could be so cryptic. Pulling himself into a sitting position that leveled his face with hers, he took hold of her chin and brought her gaze back to his. He could see that his sudden nearness startled her, but that she had no desire to pull away.

She wanted to know if he felt, which made him curious, because he could almost sense that she was asking something very specific, and was purposefully being vague in order to prevent any more awkwardness. But he had not one iota of an idea as to what she wanted to know. Not unless she asked, which she most likely would not do even if he attempted to coax it out of her. She too often allowed her shyness to be a hindrance. But he definitely could feel, there was no doubt. And although it was not the same, right now, he could feel her desperate desire and discreet hope that his answer would be what she wanted to hear. "I do."

She smiled, her eyes crinkling around the edges with happiness. It was a smile of relief. "Good."

Ulquiorra glanced down between them to see that her skirt had somehow risen higher on her thighs. Without thinking, he pinched the hem and began to pull it back down. When Orihime noticed what he was doing, she too looked down to realize how she was sitting in his lap. Her cheeks smoldering a brilliant red, she pulled herself off of him.

"S-sorry…" She mumbled, climbing off of the bed and pulling her skirt back down around her legs. "I, um…I'm going to take a shower." She rushed over to her suitcase, pulled out the first dress she saw and some underwear, before stepping into the bathroom.

Ulquiorra listened from the bed as the showerhead turned on. As he listened to the gentle fall of water, he calculated in his head just how long they had left on this cruise. Today was their last day on the island before they were to leave, and then four days left on the ship. They had five days. If there was going to be any sort of progress with the onna, then he needed to act, meaning he no longer needed to force himself to hold back so much. He knew that right now, at least, she didn't want him to.

He had five more days to be free to touch her as he pleased, and he needed to start taking some initiative so that when this was over, he wouldn't be leaving this ship with regrets.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Orihime brought a hand to her forehead to shield her eyes from the glaring rays of the sun, but it was of no use. She couldn't escape it. The white sidewalk beneath their feet reflected a glowing, painful white that blinded both her and Ulquiorra as they made their way down the busy tourist district of Honolulu. Her squinted eyes scanned the name of each shop they passed, looking for one that held any sort of promise.

"Are you looking for somewhere specific?" Ulquiorra asked from beside her. He wasn't one to normally voice his complaints, but he could feel the sun burning his skin. He'd come to the conclusion that he didn't like it very much, and was hoping that Orihime would just hurry and go inside a store so he could finally get some cool relief.

"Not really. I just want to buy some souvenirs for everyone back home," she answered, sighing.

"Then perhaps there would suffice?" He suggested, pointing her in the direction of the store across the street.

Orihime looked over to read the sign: Aloha Souvenirs. She smiled to herself before stepping out into the street to cross it. Her foot hadn't even touched the road's pavement before a firm hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her back onto the sidewalk. She didn't even have time to look at Ulquiorra before a honking car rushed in front of her, the speed of it making her dress fly up and her hair whoosh past her face. With wide eyes and a racing heart, she finally looked at Ulquiorra, who had yet to release her wrist from his nearly painful grip. She didn't have to ask to know that he was angry. She could easily tell by the displeased set of his mouth, and the dark annoyance in his green eyes.

"Do not be so careless." His heart was flying in his chest after nearly seeing her hit by a car. In that short instance, a fear unlike anything he'd known had rushed through him. Even now, adrenaline was pumping fast in his veins. On the outside, however, he still remained entirely composed.

"I-I just wasn't looking…" She sounded apologetic, but it was still nothing but an excuse. He was right. She'd been careless.

"You could have been hurt, onna." He sounded colder than necessary, but that didn't keep Orihime from hearing the concern hidden beneath his icy tone, and it warmed her heart.

And it wasn't only the concern in his voice that had her smiling bashfully to herself. It was the bruising grip he still hadn't loosened around her wrist, and the deep set of his frown, and the ache in her arm caused by the force he'd used to pull her back to safety. And it wasn't even the first time he'd saved her from harm.

Bringing up her free hand, she placed it over his holding her wrist. His eyes met hers, and she smiled at him. "Thank you, Ulquiorra."

Immediately, his fingers loosened, and he returned his hand to his pocket before looking away from her and across the street. He felt…uncomfortable, as he always did whenever she thanked him. He never did favors for anyone, although he wouldn't call saving her from harm a favor. To him, it was a necessity, so there was no reason to thank him. Keeping her safe was to him, not only a need, but a permanent want. Perhaps one day, she would come to know that, but for now, he would just have to tolerate her thanks.

Seeing that the road was finally clear, Orihime gave a short tug to Ulquiorra's shirtsleeve before crossing the road to the shop.

It was souvenir heaven. Everywhere they looked, there were shelves and racks and boxes of Hawaiian themed objects. Dolls, calendars, jewelry, towels, magnets, coffee mugs, boxed chocolate, bags, oven mitts, postcards, photo books, CD's, key chains, lamps, everything and anything. Usually, Orihime found that choices were a good thing, but right now, she was at a loss as to what to choose. There were just too many choices, and she didn't know where to start.

"ALOHA!"

Their attention was stolen by a fat, tanned, Hawaiian native bounding towards them down one of the isles. He had a bright yellow lei atop his dark braided head, and a very large smile on his face. His tropical button-up shirt was completely open, showing off his many tribal tattoos.

"Ah...aloha!" Orihime greeted, smiling and waving at him.

"Welcome to Aloha Souvenirs, you guys!" He sounded tremendously excited to see them.

Ulquiorra found the large man quite obnoxious and had no desire to be in his presence any longer. It seemed that him and the onna were a magnet for unbearably annoying people.

"You guys tourists?" He asked.

Orihime nodded. "We're from Japan."

The man's eyes grew wide. "Oh, Japan, huh? Nice place?"

"Yeah, I love it."

Turning his brown eyes to Ulquiorra, the man pointed at him, much to Ulquiorra's annoyance. "This your boyfriend?"

What that had to do with buying souvenirs was beyond Ulquiorra's understanding. Did he have some sort of interest in Orihime? Was he asking this with the hope that she'd say no so that he could try and pursue her? This did not sit well with him. At all. But he would not answer, because the question was not for him. It was for her, and it was up to her how she wanted others to view their relationship. Turning his gaze to her, he watched her struggle silently with herself with obvious indecision that most likely was confusing the man before them.

"He's my…um…" She glanced at Ulquiorra, her cheeks glowing a light pink. When she caught him already looking at her, she smiled shyly, and her blush deepened.

"Oh, I see…" The man smiled as if he'd just heard a very good secret that only he knew.

Ulquiorra's curiosity was piqued as to what the man could possibly mean when Orihime hadn't even answered him yet.

"Well, I won't bother you guys any longer. If you need help, I'll be at the register!" Giving them both a cheery wink and a wave, he left them to shop.

"People in Hawaii sure are friendly…" Orihime commented after the man was out of hearing range.

Ulquiorra was sure that if it weren't for the fact that she was so beautiful and that kindness emanated from her like rays from the sun, people would not be treating her the same way. But he wanted it no other way. People could be as cruel and disgusting as they wanted, as long as they were kind to her.

"Now let's see…" Orihime said, placing a slender finger to her lower lip. "Where should I start? There's Ishida-kun, and Tatsuki-chan, and Kurosaki…kun…" Her voice faltered, and she glanced at Ulquiorra. He was no longer looking at her, and so she continued hoping that he hadn't caught her pause. "Kuchiki-san, Sado-kun…" She couldn't afford to buy souvenirs for everyone she knew, so she had to think very hard on who would be most offended if they didn't receive something from her. And after all, the ones she'd already named were some of her closest friends. It was deciding what to buy them she was having trouble with.

Looking around the store she spotted a shelf of stuffed animals. Going over to them, she picked one up. It was a stuffed sea turtle with big black beads for eyes and an open, smiling mouth. Instantly, Rukia came to mind. Orihime knew Rukia loved anything cute, and this was definitely cute. "Ulquiorra? What do you think?" Orihime turned and held up the small stuffed turtle for him to see.

"What are you asking me, onna?" He asked, coming to stand beside her. He looked down at the turtle in her hand, his gaze uninterested. He didn't entirely understand the concept of these stuffed toys. They did absolutely nothing, and yet, Orihime had loads of them. On his first night sleeping in her home, she'd even offered him one to sleep with, saying that it would make him feel less alone. There were times when she showed that she had the mentality of an innocent child. At first, that side of her had surprised him, because he'd not seen it when she was in Las Noches. But he didn't hate it. In fact, he liked seeing her act so carefree, because it was her way of letting him know that she felt at ease. "Do you not have enough of these?"

Orihime shook her head. "No, not for me, for Kuchiki-san. Do you think she'll like it?"

Kuchiki. Rukia Kuchiki. It took him a moment, but eventually a face came to mind. He'd only seen her a few times whenever Ichigo Kurosaki came to visit the onna. She was a small girl, and very quiet. He'd caught her watching him numerous times, and he could feel that she didn't trust him. He looked down at the small stuffed turtle. He couldn't imagine such a serious girl liking such a silly toy. "I do not know her, onna."

"Hmm…" Orihime studied the toy. "Well, I think she'll like it." Tucking it beneath her arm, she looked around the store. "Now, let's see…" Spotting a shelf of beautiful brown lacquered boxes, she rushed over excitedly. Picking up a medium sized one with intricate carvings, she opened it up to see inside. "Ohhh, I wonder if Ishida-kun would be able to use this for his sewing supplies?" She remembered the sewing box he brought with him to the handicrafts club at school. It was so small that when he opened it, his supplies exploded out all over the place. He could definitely get use out of a newer, and larger one.

"Ishida." Ulquiorra repeated the name, again trying to remember the face.

Orihime looked up at him. "You remember him, don't you? He wears glasses, has black hair…" She really didn't want to say that he was with them during Ulquiorra's fight with Ichigo. That time was still hard for her to talk about.

But she didn't have to say it, because he remembered exactly Uryu Ishida. He'd protected Orihime that time when she had been in danger, and he was the one that had fought in place of the shinigami so that the onna could heal his injuries. He had been very calm, more so than any of the onna's other friends. But no matter how hard he tried, Ulquiorra could not imagine that Uryu Ishida sewing. Either Orihime had absolutely no idea what her friends would like, or they were all unexpectedly eccentric. "He sews." It was a statement, but he was still waiting for some sort of verification.

Orihime nodded, closing the box and returning her attention to Ulquiorra. "Yeah! We're both in the handicrafts club at school. He's the best at sewing. He can make almost anything!"

He watched her silently for a few moments, absorbing this new information. Gently, he took the ornate box from her hands and studied it. "Explain this handicrafts club to me."

Her face lit up excitedly. "Okay, well, it's this club I go to sometimes after school. All we really do is make things…" As she spoke, she began to walk along the shelves, browsing the different souvenirs. Ulquiorra followed closely behind. "Once, I made this really long scarf! It took forever! But it was so warm, and soft…"

He couldn't take his eyes off of her. Her enthusiasm was incredibly compelling. It was slightly amusing to see the way her tiny hands painted invisible pictures as she described in avid detail the handicrafts club.

Suddenly, she stopped walking and turned her head to look back at him, her eyes alight with a sudden idea. "Would you like me to make you a scarf too?"

He could tell that she wanted to, although he could not justify her spending so much time on something for him. "I would not waste so much of your time, onna."

She turned her face away from him so he couldn't see her expression, but he could hear the smile in her voice. "Making you a present isn't wasting my time, Ulquiorra. Plus…" She held up a singular finger. "If I start on it when we get back home, then I should definitely be able to finish it before winter!"

When we get back home…

Home. The word struck a chord in him that left him feeling a little overwhelmed. It was so easy and natural for her to refer to her home as their home. He wasn't sure if it was a slipup or not, or if he was just over analyzing her words, but he couldn't help but to enjoy how she so effortlessly packaged the two of them together. And she wanted to make him a scarf for the winter. He hadn't even experienced a full year in the human world yet, but he was sure that the wait between summer and winter must be a while. It seemed that there was not a doubt in her mind that they would still be together. Her confidence was infectious, and for a moment, some of the tension he'd been feeling over the past few days was relieved. It was remarkable to him just how attuned he had become to her. Every little thing she did or said affected him tremendously, and he could do nothing to stop it from happening, but he had no desire to anyway. He liked this utterly unintentional attachment he had to her, but at the same time, he was apprehensive about it. He watched her pick up a Hawaiian snow globe and giggle at the irony of it. Just the sound of her laughter made him feel completely at ease, and he could not explain to himself why. Why was it that she was the conductor of all these new emotions? He doubted it had ever been her intention. But no matter how much he enjoyed these feelings, he still could not stop the frightening anxiety within his gut. It was because none of this made any sense. And yet, when he looked at her, or when she smiled at him, it made perfect sense. Her laughter made him forget his doubts, and her confidence and kindness had him carelessly discarding his questions. Because in the end, he supposed, what did logic matter when the outcome was what he most desired anyway? As long as she continued to smile at him, and laugh in front of him, and share with him her happiness, then he felt fine with ignoring all reason.

Snow globes, pineapple-print ties, coconut themed stationary…so much to choose from, but none of it seemed fitting. Distracted by all of the souvenirs, her next words fell from her mouth without much thought. "I just don't know what to get Kurosaki-kun—" Her breath hitched in her throat, projected from her sudden realization. She'd caught herself, but it was too late.

It was as if ice water had just been poured atop his head, but gravity was not working the way it should, and so it slowly fell over him, taking its time to freeze him in place. The thing was, he knew he was overreacting, but he could do nothing about the feeling hearing the shinigami's name from her lips instilled within him—disgust, annoyance, anger, jealousy. Of all her friends, buying Kurosaki Ichigo's gift seemed to be giving her the most stress. He could hear it in her voice, and he could see it in her eyes as they desperately searched through the store. She was worried about pleasing him. "He will like whatever you choose for him, onna." Even he could hear the ice in his voice.

Her eyes met his, filled with worry. "Ulquiorra, I—"

"Perhaps my presence is distracting you. I'll wait outside." He turned to leave her alone, although he wasn't actually doing it for her sake, but for his own. There was something about the idea of watching her search for a gift for the shinigami that he just knew he could not handle with composure. She would be thinking of him—of what he liked, what he disliked, what he could use, perhaps his reaction upon receiving the gift. Having to see her eyes light up when she found the one thing she knew he'd like, and seeing her smile as she thought of him, Ulquiorra was in no mood for witnessing. He was being incredibly immature. Such behavior was rare, if not entirely unknown of him, but he had no control over this feeling rolling through him with a fiery vengeance. And underneath this foreign jealousy was a feeling of irrationality for having reacted instinctively in such a childish manner over what was most likely nothing. But again, no longer could he control his thoughts and feelings when it came to her.

She didn't even think about it. Her hand just reached out on its own and caught the back of his shirt. He paused, only to look back at her. She couldn't help but to feel she'd done something wrong, although she had no clue as to what that could've been. Her eyes searched his for the brief moment that she could get away with it unnoticed, looking for some sort of clue, which she knew would be impossible to find. Like in a dense, lush forest, she could only get lost. There was nothing to see but peculiar evergreen. She knew she probably looked like a fool, stopping him only to have nothing to say. Finally conscious of her instinctive actions, her fingers uncurled from his shirt, and she dropped her eyes from his. "I-I, um, won't take very long."

He hesitated for a mere moment, split between wanting to stay with her and knowing it was best for his own sake to wait for her outside, before choosing the latter and handing her back the box she'd chosen for Ishida. Her fingertips brushed his as she took the box from his hands, and he felt himself ease up, some of the ice melting from his limbs. He could say nothing to explain to her why he was leaving, and he felt the weight of guilt upon is shoulders as he made his way outside of the shop to lean back against a wall, in the shadow of the storefront, safe from the sun.

In a desperate attempt to keep away from his own thoughts, he busied his mind with watching passerby. Across the road, together at a bus stop, was a young couple, sitting together on a bench. The woman had her head rested on the man's shoulder, and his arm was lying casually around her shoulders. At first glance, it was safe to assume that their relationship was one of mutual affection. But after the past week's experiences, Ulquiorra knew that he could no longer be so sure, because although it looked as if the couple was, indeed, romantically involved, it could just be, in fact, nothing but an illusion. The woman, for instance, could just simply be tired, and could comfortably rest her head on the man's shoulder because she valued him as a trustworthy friend, while the man could potentially think of her as something more than that, but he too values their relationship too much to ruin what they already share, and so he can only take advantage of small moments such as the one at hand to hold the woman he'd always been longing to. There were so many possibilities, and only recently had Ulquiorra been introduced to them. The complexities of being human were astonishing, more so than he had ever imagined, before, and the only thing he was absolutely sure of was that he valued the onna more than anything else this world had to offer, and that, other than her happiness, he wanted nothing more than for her to value him the same way.

Inside the shop, Orihime picked up a Hawaiian themed coffee mug, with a palm tree as the handle, and sighed. Suddenly, she just wasn't in the mood for shopping anymore. Her eyes flickered to the store's entrance where she could just barely see the white of Ulquiorra's shirtsleeve. She couldn't concentrate on shopping when all she could think about was what was bothering him. And she knew something was bothering him. There was no doubt that Ulquiorra was hard to read, but somehow, she'd become so accustomed to him that she always had some idea of how he was feeling. What she had difficulty figuring out was what it was that always managed to affect him. He had been fine until she'd said Ichigo's name. Did he hold some sort of grudge against him? It wouldn't be impossible, but she couldn't say she was convinced that was the case. She just…didn't know what to think, and she was too apprehensive to ask him.

But she no longer found it easy to say Ichigo's name in front of Ulquiorra. She didn't want him to think that she was always daydreaming about Ichigo. But as far as Ulquiorra knew, she still liked Ichigo. She felt it would be strange and irrelevant to tell him that her feelings for Ichigo were now, nothing more than just friendship. Why should Ulquiorra care? It wasn't as if her changed feelings for Ichigo would have any sort of effect on her relationship with Ulquiorra, right? But somehow, whenever she found herself saying Ichigo's name in front of Ulquiorra, she always found herself wishing she hadn't. Because even though it changed nothing between them, every time she said Ichigo's name aloud, she felt as if she needed to tell Ulquiorra that her feelings for Ichigo were different than they used to be. And she had no idea where this desire to tell him everything came from. But she always felt it in the air, in his guarded gaze, in his cool tone, and frozen stance, that he wanted to hear it. She shook her head, disregarding the ridiculous thought. It was probably just her own desire to tell him, to act out on her feelings for him, that had her imagining such silly things. Ulquiorra didn't care about her feelings for Ichigo. Why would he? What was she to him? If he showed any sort of curiosity for her feelings at all, it was only because of his invested interest in the human heart, and nothing more. He was learning through her, and she needed a wake up call. She needed to stop fooling herself into believing that his gentle words, soft, accidental touches, heady gazes, and heated kisses meant anything more than simple curiosity.

It was with resigned eyes, and a heavy heart that she finished her shopping. Picking up a macadamia nut chocolate bar, she paid for the souvenirs, smiling half-heartedly at the store clerk who gave her a cheerful wink on her way out.

"Ulquiorra?" She said his name as she exited the shop, the opened chocolate bar already making it's way to her mouth.

He looked at her, his expression patient.

Easily, with the habitual motion of a lover, Orihime's hand reached out to find his. His fingers curled around hers, gently, as she stepped closer to him. "Are you okay?"

The one question he'd hoped she wouldn't asked, she asked. He wouldn't lie to her, but he would not answer her either. He was ashamed of his jealousy, and he was at odds with himself as to whether he had the right to be. So instead, he lowered his gaze to the heavy bag she held in her free hand. "You're done."

"Hm?" She followed his gaze, and nodded. "Yep. I'm pretty sure I have something for everyone. Well…there is one more person who needs a souvenir…" Taking a bite from her chocolate bar, she led them both away from the shop and back onto the sidewalk.

"Who, onna?"

She glanced at him and gave him a big, chocolatey smile. "Us."

"I have no need for a souvenir." Because he already had the only thing he wished to take with him upon leaving this island, and there was not a souvenir in existence that was better than this feeling. A coffee mug would only be a coffee mug, a postcard a postcard, but the memory of the Hawaiian sunshine caught in her fiery hair, the smell of coconut sun lotion on her bronzed skin, the sound of her voice as she hummed a tropical tune, and her smile; these things were all he desired, and he knew that they would forever stay with him, unaltered by the passing of time. This feeling, these memories, would always stay vibrant and alive. Forever perfect.

Orihime nodded, understanding, and honestly expecting, Ulquiorra's lack of enthusiasm. Taking a bite out of her chocolate bar and looking around aimlessly, she gently began to swing their locked hands, to Ulquiorra's slight irritation. She wanted something that she could keep with her, always, and that would remind her of her favorite part of this vacation. Ahead of them, she spotted the entrance to the Ala Moana Center, a shopping mall, and a sudden idea came to her. "Ulquiorra?" She suddenly said his name, and he glanced at her. "I want to go there." She pointed to the shopping mall, and Ulquiorra's brow lowered, imperceptibly.

"Are you asking for my permission? If so, then I refuse." Shopping. The most tedious of all human activities, other than golf.

Orihime smiled, already pulling him along with her to the entrance. This time, it was nonnegotiable.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

He was experiencing a horrible moment of déjà vu. The small, cramped space, the bench that could not comfortably fit two people, their sides glued to each other's, the claustrophobia…

Wary emerald eyes stared at the blank screen before them. The heavy, red curtains on either side of the box they were in blocked out practically all light, and he could just barely make out his and Orihime's reflections in the glass. She was digging around in her purse, beside him, her elbow uncomfortably and repeatedly jabbing him in the side. "What is this, onna?"

"You'll see…" She bit down on her lower lip in excitement, as she tried to dig up all the loose change from the bottom of her bag.

Her elusiveness was aggravating him, but he silently dealt with it. There was just something about this situation that made him feel uneasy. His eyes fell to the small, black hole below the glass screen. He could just barely identify the small frame of glass inside of it, although it didn't give him any further idea as to what it was.

His attention was drawn away when Orihime leaned forward to slip two coins into a slot. A mere moment passed, and then the screen before them came alive, presenting a long list of images. At the top of the screen, displayed in big, pink, bubble letters was Photo Booth Paradise. He could only watch as she brought up a slender finger to scroll down the list of photo frames.

"Tell me if there's one you like, okay?" There were so many to choose from, and every few had a different theme: cowboy themed, beach themed, hot air balloon themed, movie star themed, flower themed, underwater themed, mountain themed, romantic themed, and more. "Hmm…how about…this one." She pressed her finger to the screen to select a tropical themed frame. The screen blinked once as it applied the frame, and Orihime quickly settled back beside Ulquiorra. "Okay, get ready!"

Ulquiorra could now see them both on the screen, their heads framed by two palm trees with lime green leaves that were uncomfortable to look at. There were three short beeps, and then the screen flashed white. Beside him, Orihime rushed to change her position, much to his confusion. In her hurry, she again elbowed him in the side as she leaned into him so she could get her other hand inside the frame, her fingers proudly displaying the sign for victory. He remained still, his face impassive, as again the screen flashed white. Twice more, he sat there as the woman beside him fidgeted and posed, managing each time to look absolutely ridiculous. When it was over, the screen went black. There was a soft whirring, and something dropped into the tray at the bottom of the booth.

"Oh! That was quick…" Bending down, Orihime snatched up the glossy photo sheet and held it up to examine it, smiling in giddy anticipation. Ulquiorra, feeling a subtle twinge of curiosity, also glanced to see it. There were four different photos, all lined on a single strip, and in each one, Orihime was giving the camera her biggest smile and cheesiest pose, while Ulquiorra remained exactly the same, his gaze uninterested and his face void of expression.

Orihime lowered the picture and turned her head to look at him, her expression one of amused frustration. "Ulquiorra, you should at least smile a little…"

He wasn't sure if her suggestion was one made in absolute sincerity or if she was just teasing him. He had never smiled. The expression just wasn't natural for him. He'd always been much too reserved, too quiet, too socially detached, to have ever learned how to smile. It wasn't necessary for him. This permanently indifferent mask he wore was not forced. It was not to hide emotion. It was just the result of having spent so long without ever actually knowing what it was like to feel.

"See?" Orihime's face lit up in a brilliant smile. "It's easy."

Of course it was, for her. "Onna, I—"

Her warm hands suddenly on his face made him pause, and he could only look down at her, feeling slightly bewildered, as her fingers worked to curve his mouth in a way it was not accustomed. It was defensive instinct that had him bring his hands up to wrap his fingers around her small wrists, halting her ministrations momentarily.

"Ulquiorra, just let me…a little…" She wasn't even saying anything of importance, but rather exercising a futile attempt to distract him so that she could continue to force his mouth into a smile. She was thoroughly enjoying it, and couldn't retain a small, breathy laugh as his eyes darkened threateningly. Even with his hands on her wrists, eventually, she managed to shape his mouth into the smallest hint of a smile. Well…maybe not, but for all her effort was worth, she was telling herself that it was a smile. "O-okay. Just stay like that for a moment…"

Removing her hands from his face after he reluctantly released her wrists, she took two more coins and swiftly slipped them into the money slot. The screen lit up, once again displaying the list of photo frames. A little too excited, Orihime's clumsy fingers slipped and accidentally, to her mortified horror, selected a Valentine's frame.

A heart. Ulquiorra and Orihime looked at the screen to see themselves enclosed in a bright, pink, lacey heart. Three fast beeps and a white flash later, Orihime's finger was immediately back on the screen, touching it in some hopeless attempt to return to the list of frames.

Ulquiorra watched her, silently, finding it amusing how frantic and desperate she seemed, as if a bomb were about to explode and she was doing everything she could within the next few seconds to dismantle it and save their lives. It was nowhere near that dire of a situation, which made her expression all the more entertaining. After the third flash, she settled back down beside him and sighed, flustered. "I-I picked the wrong frame by—" The fourth and final flash made her pause. "…accident."

The glossy photo hit the tray with a light clang. Picking it up, Ulquiorra inspected it closely, and barely, just barely, one corner of his mouth perked up in the faintest shadow of a smile. Her face in each photo was ridiculous. Her cheeks were puffed and red, her brow angled with her frustration, her eyes clouded with worry, and her mouth open, as if she were speaking to herself, while he remained the same in each consecutive picture, although he noticed, with a hint of self-aggravation, that his eyes were on her in every one. "These are not flattering, onna."

"L-let me see," she said, leaning into him to reach a hand out to grab them.

He wasn't sure what drove him to do so, perhaps the side of him that liked to tease her, but he held the photos just out of her reach so that she was struggling to get them. Especially in the confined space they were in, this feat was impressive, and he watched her as she continued to reach across him for the photos. And he would've eventually given them to her if it weren't for the fact that her struggling caused her to press herself completely against him.

"Ul-Ulquiorra, really, let me see." Insecurity rushed through her veins, only fueling her attempts to take the photos away from him. Just how unflattering were these pictures of her? What if she looked hideous?

Eventually, seeing that he was causing her more distress than necessary, he handed them to her. With worried silver eyes, she examined the glossy photos, unsmiling. Her cheeks flushed crimson, and her brows furrowed in upset. She was embarrassed he'd seen these. She looked so silly.

Seeing the turmoil clear on her face, Ulquiorra placed a steady hand over the picture. She looked up at him, again, confused. "What is wrong?"

"My face is—"

"There is nothing wrong with it." He cut her off, abruptly, and his words left her looking dazed for a moment, stunned by his frankness.

"You said that they were unflattering, though…" She countered, quietly.

"I was speaking only of myself." Gently, he took the picture from her hands and, for the second time, inspected it. There was nothing unflattering about her. In fact, he quite enjoyed how she looked in these photos. The dynamics of her personality were obvious in each one. She looked incredibly endearing, while he looked nothing but extremely dull and uninteresting.

To this, she actually laughed. "How are these unflattering pictures of you, Ulquiorra? You look like this all the time." Leaning against him, she looked at the pictures with him. He looked, if anything, incredibly handsome. He was very photogenic, and he reminded her of a model. A composed expression, a face so attractive it was surreal, beautiful bone structure, eyes set to kill, and an air of maturity, the pictures of Ulquiorra were anything but unflattering. But the pictures of her…She frowned, displeased. "Ulquiorra, can we take just one more?"

"These are not the only ones, onna," he said, referring to the first set of pictures they'd taken, of which, every one had turned out perfectly fine. She'd seemed entirely pleased with those, aside from his unsmiling face.

"W-well…I want a real one…" She confessed, failing at offering any sort of explanation. She glanced at him to see him waiting for her to clarify. "You know, proof."

"You want proof."

She nodded, her eyes looking away from his, awkwardly. "Like a souvenir…just for me…"

Ulquiorra didn't understand why the pictures they'd already taken couldn't suffice, until she'd explained, in a rush of embarrassedly mumbled words, her reasons.

"I just want a picture of u-us…"

Us. Somehow, it seemed, that he had reached the point in which deciphering her sometimes-cryptic words had become effortless for him. This picture, this souvenir for her, she wanted a picture of them together. And he knew that she did not mean together in the sense that they were both just simply in the same picture. She wanted physical evidence, proof, as she'd called it, that this had happened. That they had been together. "I see."

Orihime looked at the two coins in her hand, thoughtfully. Her heart was hammering against her chest, and it jumped in surprise when Ulquiorra smoothly took the coins from her fingers.

Sliding the coins into the slot, Ulquiorra leaned over to place his mouth near her ear. "What do you want to see?" So near her, he could smell the subtle scent of lavender, and he could feel the tickle of her hair against his cheek. His eyes lowered in a brief moment of faint surprise when he felt a shy hand settle on his leg. Whether it was a gesture of warning or welcome, he was about to find out.

Orihime, her heart racing so fast it had projected into her throat, turned her head ever so slightly in an attempt to look at his face from her peripheral. "Ul-Ulquiorra?" She sounded nervous, and she was. This feeling…it was so familiar, and yet, still so foreign. Her eyes went to his hand as he brought it to the screen and, without looking, selected a frame.

"What shall I do, onna?" The screen gave the first warning beep, but he paid it no heed. All of his attention was for the blushing woman before him, as he waited for her request.

Rushing through her veins, her heated blood pulsed loudly in her ears and flooded her cheeks, turning them a rosy crimson. "Wh-whatever you want t-to…" Words failed her as slender fingers curled around her hand, gently pulling her forward by the arm so that she found the side of her face colliding with his mouth. Wide eyes stared ahead, shocked, but mesmerized, at the picture of him kissing her cheek on the screen.

"Allowing me such freedom…" He began quietly, his lips deftly moving against her porcelain skin as he spoke. "…is unwise." It was his only warning, but he knew that she'd pay it no heed. His hand found the underneath of her chin, and with gentle coaxing, he turned her face to his. Deep emerald met cool silver as their eyes met, and their noses brushed as he came closer, prolonging each torturous moment until Orihime found herself tentatively closing the distance herself, unable to handle this temptation, but unsure if such a privilege was actually being offered her. Her lips met his, brushing softly, not really a kiss as much as a caress. Insecurity prevented her from closing her eyes, and so her gaze busied itself with the shape of his mouth. How many times she'd found herself looking at his mouth, she couldn't count. She was fascinated by him, and had been from the moment she'd first laid frightened eyes on him. Intimidating, unreadable, quiet, his lips had always made her curious, especially now that she knew that they were not as cold as the expression they presented, or as hard and unwelcoming as the words they spoke. Gently, she touched her lips to his, simply savoring the petal like softness of his mouth, and the warmth of his breath on her tongue.

Just knowing that her lips were pressed to Ulquiorra's filled her with such an overwhelming sense of euphoric disbelief that she found herself impulsively deepening their kiss, her passionate eagerness shining unabashed.

His mouth was gentle against hers, his eyes closed, and his lips languorously slow as they heatedly moved against hers. There was no resistance as his tongue slipped past her lips and into her mouth, tasting her fully for the second time to pleasantly discover, with a twist in his groin, that she was just as wonderful tasting as before. Invading her moist mouth without any reservations, his tongue caressed hers as he delved further, his lips pressed so firmly to hers that he found both their breathing laborious. He felt her quickened pulse beneath his fingertips as he dropped his hold of her chin to trace a teasing line down her neck, his thumb settling just beneath her ear. Her skin was like warm silk beneath his fingers, and he wasn't sure if it was just enough to only touch her face anymore. In a subtle effort to control himself, his fingers tangled themselves in the hair at the nape of her neck, causing her to whimper in pleasurable surprise, the noise provoking him to gently pull a little harder in silent hope that she'd repeat the sound. She didn't disappoint, and he felt her whimper vibrate throughout his entire body, shaking him to his very core with rapture.

She wanted pictures. Slipping his tongue from her mouth, his moistened lips strayed indolently to just below her chin, where he could taste the bitterness of her sunscreen. He gently nipped her skin between his blunt teeth to hear her gasp quietly, her hands coming up so she could bury excited fingers into his shoulders, the action pulling him ever closer so that her breasts were brushing the front of his shirt. She was becoming slightly devious, leading them away to seclusion, placing them in such close quarters, and then requesting this behind the innocent visage of an excuse.

He could feel her eagerness, mirroring his own, and despite his already knowing how he could affect her physically, the intensity to which he was capable of impassioning her staggered him. He could feel the dull bite of her fingernails in his shoulders, even through his shirt. The booth was filled with the hushed sound of her erratic breathing, and it was obvious by the way she was biting down on her lip that she was doing her best to stifle the noises coming from her as he continued to suck gently a wet path along the side of her neck. Her body, arched towards him, only screamed silently what she would never voice: more. She'd been hoping for this, and he hadn't assumed a thing.

Her body was screaming desperately for her to reposition herself so that she could feel more of him, but the small confines of the booth prevented most movement, and so all she could do was reach out to him and hold him closer. Her shoulders ached as they were held back against the inner wall of the booth, but she found the uncomfortable throb easy to ignore when her muddled mind was focused solely on the sinfully delightful sensation of his wet mouth on her skin. Her lower back was arched forward as much as possible, pushing her breasts into his chest, but it still wasn't enough. One of her hands moved from his shoulder to clutch the back of his head, while her other deftly found his free hand. Her shaking fingers laced with his as she settled their entwined hands on one of her bare thighs. She disentangled them so that she could shyly press his fingers against her leg to feel him touching her.

Ulquiorra's eyes opened marginally as he felt Orihime press his fingers into her supple flesh. Warm, smooth, and soft, her skin was impossible to resist exploring, and his fingers splayed and slid over her leg to feel the skin of her inner thigh. His teeth pinched her neck, making her gasp, and a spasm of pleasure rocked through her sensitive body, her knees locking together in response, and effectively encasing his hand in impossible heat. Smoothing his tongue over her abused and reddened flesh, he whispered to her, his voice deepened and heady with desire: "Orihime..."

Intended to be a warning, but failing in its aim, saying her name only managed to sound as if he were requesting to continue, when in fact, he was desperately searching within himself for the strength to stop. This was too much, and he was too quickly losing himself, and she was giving no sign of stopping either.

"Oh!"

Blinding sunlight poured over the passionate pair when a young teenage girl pulled open the curtain, not realizing that the photo booth was currently occupied. Orihime turned her head to gaze at the girl wide-eyed and scared, like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car, while Ulquiorra gave the unwelcome intruder a brief, finely annoyed glance. While he felt the need to stop before the situation became dangerous, being interrupted had not been what he'd had in mind.

Catching Ulquiorra's irritated gaze, the girl blanched. "S-sorry!"

The curtain fell closed again, shrouding them once more in the dark.

Trash. Ulquiorra's eyes found Orihime's, and he noticed an embarrassed flush spreading across her face, her expression having drastically changed from the one she'd had mere moments ago. Her breathing no longer sounded passionately excited, but rather unpleasantly anxious, and he felt her fingers slacken before unwinding from his hair.

"W-we should go…" The subtle inflection in her voice had her sounding as if she were going to cry, although she wouldn't. She was mortified. Even now, she could hear the girl giggling and relaying to her friends in avid detail what she'd just interrupted, using terms like 'slut' and 'pervert'.

Unease washed through him, although his face did not reveal it. And his disquiet only doubled when she pushed his hand off of her leg, a little too avidly, as if his touch were offending her. Lowering her gaze and unsmiling, she took the freshly printed photos from the tray, and without looking at them, grabbed her bags and stepped out from the booth. Ulquiorra followed after her, only to find her staring wide-eyed and flushed at the outside of the booth. He followed her gaze to see a second screen like the one inside, revealing to anyone on the outside what was going on inside the booth. A heavy foreboding fell across his brow as he watched Orihime's cheeks burn a muddy red.

They saw. Everyone saw what had happened between her and Ulquiorra. Her skin prickled and ice ran through her veins, freezing her still to absorb this unexpected humiliation. Suddenly, she was painfully aware of everything around her—the poorly disguised snickers, the whispered words, the feeling of many eyes on her—judging her. And perhaps she was imaging most of it, and no one really cared, but…

Her legs were leading her away, and it was her mind that was following. When she turned around, she could finally put faces to the whispers and pointed stares. She diverted her eyes to the ground, almost in a show of shame, as she rushed casually past the onlookers, accidentally bumping into a few and hurrying a breathy apology on her way. She just wanted to escape to somewhere where there weren't so many people, somewhere that she could regain her composure.

Because this had never happened to her before, and she knew she was overreacting, but there was nothing this realization could do for her. She'd never been caught doing something bad, and kissing Ulquiorra…

It was so much more than that. It was so much more than simply kissing.

She could feel where her skin was still wet as the cool air rushed against her neck. His lips, his gaze, his breath, his touch, his voice…The way he made her feel was on an entirely different level than anything she'd experienced before. It wasn't just about her feelings anymore. It was also physical, and the intensity in which this desire for him was burning scared her, but that wasn't what was upsetting her. She liked that feeling. She liked the uncomfortable burning between her legs, and the itch in her fingers, and the thirst in her throat to taste more of him.

But she wanted that for her eyes only. His kiss, his touch, his gaze—she wanted to be the only one to know it, and now others had seen it. Seen them together. She felt as if something had been taken from her, as if this memory had already been soiled, and it brought an indignant grimace to her usually glowing face.

Finally finding an unoccupied bench in the shadow of a small enclosure, Orihime took a seat. Hesitantly, after drawing a few long and calming breaths, she looked down at the photo in her hand, feeling as if she should be looking at them in private rather than in the center of a shopping mall. She placed a hand to her cheek to find it searing hot.

Her face…

She hardly recognized herself. It was as if she were looking at a completely different person living inside her body, because these expressions were not hers. They couldn't be. It was the face of a mature woman. Such a confident expression, and such bold eyes, she could not identify as her own, and yet…the photo alone was proof. Each frame played out what she could so vividly remember—his lips brushing her cheek, his mouth on her own, his tongue on her neck, his breath on her skin…And she could still feel it. Her heart had yet to relax its excited pounding, her breathing had yet to fully calm down. And she could still faintly taste him on her lips, and feel the soreness on the side of her neck where he'd gently nipped her skin.

But there was more than just that. There was a dull ache deep inside of her, that she most felt when he touched her—the source of this flaming desire for him that felt as if it could never be doused. It caused the itch she had to always touch him, and look at him, and be near him. These thoughts were not those of an innocent girl. She was changing somehow, and she had no desire to stop it from happening. She wanted Ulquiorra. She longed to feel that sense of wholeness with him, to deepen this indiscernible connection she felt. She wanted to make it permanent.

But…when she'd looked into the eyes of that girl who'd seen them together, one thought was written clear across her face: what are you doing?

She felt as if she should be ashamed, when she wasn't. She was confused, but she would never be ashamed of these feelings for Ulquiorra. These feelings were honest, and this lust…it was natural. Frightening, but natural nonetheless. She would not shy away from it.

What those people saw was only them kissing. It was really nothing. The impossibility of them being able to tell of her feelings for him calmed her slightly.

"Onna."

Her pet name from his lips had her raising her head so that she could look up into his downturned face. Instantaneously, she flipped the photo over so he couldn't see. He was standing before her, his expression coolly reserved, and she suddenly remembered how she'd so carelessly left him behind. "Ulquiorra! I-I'm sorry, I just…" Smiling weakly, she dropped her gaze to her knees. She couldn't really think of a reason. Her mind had just blanked at the time. "…sorry…"

For a moment, he'd expected her to be dismissive, and so he was relieved that she wasn't. The way in which she'd pushed his hand away from her…he'd felt as if he'd somehow upset her, as if he'd finally overstepped this invisible boundary between them, but apparently, that was not the case. Leaving little distance between them, he took a seat beside her, his eyes distant and quiet. "You are embarrassed." He had a definite feeling that he already knew why, but he wanted to be completely sure, because there was a part of him that wasn't.

She glanced at him, their eyes meeting. "E-everyone saw us." She blushed at the memory. "And that girl…she called me a-a…" The word was difficult for her to say, because she never found herself using it.

"Explain to me what it means." He'd heard quite a slew of slanderous words from the lips of those that had witnessed what had happened between him and Orihime, but apparently there was one in particular that was bothering her the most. He disliked her expression, greatly. She seemed…crestfallen, and insecure.

"W-well, usually girls say it to other girls. It's a name for a girl that…does inappropriate things with men…" It was slightly awkward to explain what the term meant to Ulquiorra, because even she was having trouble defining it herself.

"'Inappropriate'." He said the word, musing silently to himself.

Sucking her bottom lip into her mouth shyly, Orihime glanced away, blushing, and nodding silently in confirmation. Just barely, her arm brushed his, sending her heart racing all over again.

"What is inappropriate about it when we are m—"

"But we're not, Ulquiorra," she interrupted quietly. She knew what he meant, and that he didn't need to be told that they weren't actually married, but…"I don't think anyone that saw us thinks we're married. We look too young…"

"I do not understand what else they could've possibly thought. It was you that told me that it is those that are married that partake in such acts, onna. Is that not why you suggested it to begin with?" He looked at her to see her looking down at her knees, an unexpected flush of shame on her face that he didn't quite understand.

She had said that, but it had only been an excuse for him to kiss her. She couldn't possibly tell him that, though. "Yes, I-I know, but…" Her words caught in her throat, immobilized by the embarrassment squeezing it closed.

They sat there together, in silence, neither of them saying anything until finally, Ulquiorra chose to speak, his tone thoughtful, his voice deep. "Assuming that you are mine, I do not understand why you are expected to feel ashamed. Your ways of thinking do not make sense."

Her heart thudded against her chest so hard, she was knocked breathless. She glanced at him, and he wasn't looking at her. Sighing, Orihime flipped the picture over in her palm and again examined it as she tried to sort out her feelings and words. He deserved an explanation. While he didn't yet fully have an understanding of the human heart, he was probably just as lost, if not more, on the ways of society. "People become offended when they see stuff like this."

Ulquiorra's eyes moved to the picture in her hand, and he stared at it, fascinated. "Why?" He was not harming her, nor were they doing anything particularly obscene. And from what he'd observed from being in the human world so far, there were many more things to be offended by other than witnessing such a simple act of intimacy.

Her thin brows puckered as she thought of how to phrase her words, carefully. "I think people think it's gross or wr-wrong…"

"And yet all humans desire it." His eyes moved to a couple walking past them, holding hands. "Such hypocrisy is aggravating."

"It's supposed to be private, though. I-I think that when others do stuff like this in public, it's considered immature…" She was annoyed with herself for not having the capability to word it better. She didn't mean to make them sound immature, because they weren't. At least for her, this wasn't just about raw lust.

"It was private, onna."

She shook her head in disagreement. "A photo booth isn't private, Ulquiorra."

"And yet you did not complain until you'd found we'd been discovered." He was annoyed. It was as if she were blaming him, when it had been her that had practically begged him to touch her.

Orihime's cheeks flared with indignation. She didn't know what to say.

"If it is my responsibility, onna, then I shall simply refrain from repeating such actions again." His voice was cold, and his eyes, reserved, and Orihime flinched inside. He knew that at the time she'd wanted him, but he wasn't sure if it was worth her having to feel so embarrassed afterwards.

That's not what she wanted at all, and despite herself, her eyes began to water in upset. She felt so frustrated with herself for not knowing how to communicate her feelings to him…

"Orihime? What's wrong dear?"

Watery eyes looked up to find Ami bounding over, Shuichi standing silently behind her. Bringing up a quick hand, Orihime wiped at her eyes, hoping to hide her unshed tears before Ulquiorra noticed. "A-Ami?" She didn't have time to speak a second word before large, heavy arms were wrapped around her shoulders in a bone-crushing hug. Orihime nearly choked on the pungent smell of perfume.

"What did he say to you, honey?" She asked loudly, patting Orihime on her back to calm her. She settled beady, accusatory eyes on Ulquiorra who looked at her with all the resentment and annoyance he felt for the woman.

His patience was deteriorating, and having this whale of a woman interrupt them, of all people, was the last straw. Glancing away and shoving his hands into his pockets, Ulquiorra stood from the bench to stand a little distance away from the two women, now considering Orihime lost until returned from the meaty clutches of Ami.

Pushing against the large woman to get some air, Orihime forced a smile. "N-nothing at all, Ami! I'm fine, I promise!"

Ami pulled back, eyeing the young girl skeptically. "You're not lying to me, now, are you Orihime? Hmm? I'll find out, you know?"

"N-no, I…" Orihime's eyes fell to one of the large shopping bags hanging from Ami's arm. Seeing this as an outlet to avoid any more questions, Orihime pointed at it and asked: "What's that?" She knew Ami enjoyed shopping, so hopefully she'd be able to successfully steer her away from the current topic. Orihime really didn't want to talk about why she was upset, especially when Ulquiorra was standing so near and could hear everything. She wanted him to know, but not like this.

"Oh, this?" Releasing the young girl, Ami busied her hands with pulling out a large, ornately sequined dress. She held it up against her front, smiling coyly. "Do you like it? It's for the captain's ball."

"Captain's ball?" Orihime had absolutely no idea what Ami was talking about. She'd read the entire brochure, and she didn't remember it ever mentioning a ball…or perhaps she'd just forgotten all about it.

Ami's eyes widened in disbelief. "Surely you're going to the ball, dear?" Apparently forgetting her prior misgivings towards Ulquiorra, she turned inquisitive eyes on the silent man. "Aren't you?"

Ulquiorra looked at her for a few long, silent moments. She was exceptionally unlikeable. He couldn't say it enough. "I do not know."

"Oh! Wait, that's right!" Orihime exclaimed, suddenly remembering the dress she'd packed specifically for the event. "You mean the dinner, right?"

Smiling, and looking more relieved than she should, Ami nodded. "Yes, sweetie. It's lovely. There'll be music and dancing, and the food is simply divine. Even though it's not for a few more days, I've just been so looking forward to it that I couldn't resist buying a new dress. They have the most wonderful shops here, I must say. Tell me, dear, do you already have a dress?"

Orihime, tucking the photo booth pictures into her purse before Ami had a chance to notice them, nodded. "I-I do, although…" She glanced at Ami's sequined gown. "It's not quite as nice as yours…" She said this with an admiring smile.

"Oh, well," Ami interrupted herself with a short, boisterous laugh that had Ulquiorra turning his head away in an effort to deafen the unpleasant noise if only somewhat. "We can fix that quite easily." Leaning down to take gentle hold of Orihime's arm, Ami pulled her up from the bench. "Come now, this shall be fun!"

Orihime's head whirled in confusion at the sudden and unexpected change of events. One moment she was kissing Ulquiorra in a photo booth, the next sulking on a bench, and now she found herself on another shopping excursion with Ami.

If past experience offered her anything, then this was most likely going to be very, very awkward.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Ah!" Orihime gasped despite her best efforts to keep silent as the store clerk pulled especially and unnecessarily hard on the strings of the corset. Her hands on either side of the mirror, Orihime examined what seemed like the hundredth dress she'd tried on today. Black, figure hugging, and low cut, this dress just was not her style. In fact, none of the dresses she'd tried on suited her, but for some reason, Ami kept picking these sexy gowns, and Orihime just couldn't figure out why.

"That's it. That's the one," Ami said, scrutinizing the dress.

They were both left alone in the dressing room after the store clerk left. Orihime hadn't even been paying too much attention at all to her fittings, because her mind was on Ulquiorra who was currently waiting outside for her to finish, with Shuichi. She wondered if he was bored…

"Huh?" She looked at Ami in startled opposition. "R-really? This one?"

Unexpectedly, Ami's eyes darkened and her lipstick stained mouth turned down in a skeptical frown that made Orihime feel uneasy. "Look, dear. It may seem that most of the time my head is in the clouds, and goodness knows it just might be, but I know when another woman is upset. It's intuition; impossible to ignore, and you, Orihime, are upset—please, do not try to deny it," she said, holding up a firm hand when Orihime opened her mouth in silent protest. "I've never seen a girl look so unenthused while shopping, in my life."

Orihime closed her mouth, and her thin brows puckered as her resolve started to crumble. It'd been so long since she'd been able to freely talk about her feelings with someone, and she had so much on her mind lately that it was beginning to weigh down on her. She could talk to Ulquiorra about almost anything, except for what she most needed to speak about. Him. She'd never missed Tatsuki so much as she did right now.

"Orihime." Stepping closer, Ami laid a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder. "Speak to me, sweetie. Is it Ulquiorra? Has something happened between you two?"

And even though she was shaking her head in denial, the crystalline tears shimmering in her eyes instantly gave her away, and for the second time that day she found herself in Ami's warm, fragrant embrace. And it was the sympathetic pat on her back that was the catalyst for her tears to finally spill, and she found herself crying silently against Ami's shoulder.

"Oh, dear…" Ami sighed. "Tell me everything, honey. Let it all out."

Her head was whirling. When had she become such an emotional wreck? It was as if all her worries that had been building up over the past few days had just come to the point where she wasn't able to hold it in anymore. "I-I don't want this to be over," Orihime admitted, bringing up a hand and wiping at her slowly falling tears.

"That's the problem with vacations. When they're over, it's hard returning to reality," Ami agreed, gently.

The truth in that statement was so much more than Ami could possibly realize. For Orihime, it wasn't just the end of a vacation. It was the end of being close to Ulquiorra. When they returned home, everything would revert back to how it was before. They'd sleep in separate rooms, never touch again, and rarely speak. It hadn't even happened yet, and her heart was already breaking at just the thought. And today, she felt as if she'd somehow angered him and that she'd ruined all the progress they'd made with her thoughtlessness. It was up to her to fix it, but she wasn't sure she even knew how.

"It'll be okay, dear. I know what it feels like nearing the end of the honeymoon stage of a relationship, believe me, but…" She pulled back so she could look into Orihime's face, her expression that of a consoling friend. "You have nothing to worry about. That boy is crazy about you."

Orihime was already shaking her head before Ami had the chance to finish. "Ulquiorra…he's n-not…"

"Oh, hush!" Ami chastised, giving Orihime a little shake. "Orihime, please. Women around the world would give half their lives away for a man that looks at them like Ulquiorra does to you. You need to have more confidence in yourself, or you'll never be able to see it, honey. Now…" Releasing Orihime, Ami picked up her purse and dug around inside before pulling out a snow-white handkerchief and handing it to her. "Dry your pretty face, and don't let me see you upset over such silly things again."

Taking the handkerchief, Orihime dabbed at her eyes. She had to admit, she felt heaps better all of a sudden. Even though she didn't entirely believe what Ami said, there was something about her confidence in her and Ulquiorra that was infectious. It gave her hope that maybe this could somehow, miraculously, turn out for the better. If she just tried hard enough. She smiled, the expression bringing with it a welcome sense of relief. "Thank you."

Snapping her purse closed, Ami waved a dismissive hand, smiling. "If you want to thank me, then you and Ulquiorra must come to dinner with me and Shuichi tonight. Please say yes, dear."

"Dinner?" Orihime was confused. They always ate dinner with them…

"At La Mer. It's a 'five diamond restaurant'," Ami informed her, casually, as if the restaurant was a frequent topic of conversation between them. "It overlooks the ocean and everything. It's supposed to be beautiful."

"B-but, I'm not dressed for such a—"

"Don't you even worry, dear. It's not that sort of place. There's no dress code," she laughed.

"Oh…" Orihime felt put on the spot. She felt awkward having Ami always offer to pay for such extravagant outings for her and Ulquiorra, and usually she would politely decline the offerings, but she was always so insistent that it was impossible to say no. "…al-alright."

Ami's eyes lit up with delight. "Oh, good!" Going to the door of the dressing room and opening it, she turned back to say one last thing: "Get dressed, and we'll just fix you up a bit, okay dear?" And with that, she left to leave Orihime to change.

Back in her own dress, Orihime put the gown she'd just finished trying on back on its hangar and left it hanging on a hook. She would just have to settle with wearing the dress she'd originally bought with her to the ball, which she was entirely content with. Picking up her purse and bag of souvenirs, she left the changing room in search of Ulquiorra. She found him standing a distance away from Ami and Shuichi, watching the older couple, silently. The moment she came into his line of sight, his eyes found hers, and her heart jumped.

"Sorry I took so long. Ami picked so many things…" She explained with an apologetic smile.

"What is this dinner that we are attending tonight, onna?" He stepped towards her so that he could speak quietly so as not to be overheard.

Orihime glanced at Ami. "She told you?"

He didn't respond, but quietly awaited her explanation.

"I'm not really sure what it is. I just didn't know how to say no…" Her eyes returned to his. He didn't seem angry anymore, and some of the previous tension she'd felt left her. "She can be a little pushy, I think."

Ulquiorra's eyes moved to Ami who, having caught sight of Orihime, was making her way over to them. "Undoubtedly."

"Come, come, dear. I know just the woman to see to beautify you. She sold me this lipstick earlier," Ami said, linking an arm through Orihime's and dragging her away from Ulquiorra, who followed at a distance. Orihime glanced back at him, but his expression was indiscernible. "I think she has excellent taste, and with a face like yours to work with, she'll be thrilled."

A few minutes later after being lead from one side of the department store to the other, Orihime found herself sitting in a high seated chair, her face being prodded by the gentle fingers of a woman in a white coat. Orihime's silver eyes glanced around, and she blushed self-consciously when she noticed Ulquiorra, Ami, and Shuichi standing around her, watching.

"You have beautiful skin," the makeup woman said. Her nametag read 'Lacey'.

"Th-thank you!" Orihime replied, awkwardly. It was the same feeling she had when she went to the doctor: uncomfortable and nervous. She'd never had someone professionally do makeup on her. She rarely wore any, herself, so almost in every way this was a new experience.

Ulquiorra watched as the woman, Lacey, picked up a small bottle and squirted what looked like a beige liquid onto a white sponge. She then proceeded to brush the sponge over Orihime's cheeks, covering her bronze skin. "This will clear up any imperfections, and smooth out your skin tone. It's a natural base, and it's very light, so it won't appear cakey," she explained, her voice calming.

Imperfections. Ulquiorra inwardly sneered at the term. Such audacity. Orihime's skin was flawless. The woman was wasting her product. He watched as she continued to spread the liquid over Orihime's skin, hiding her natural blush and warm skin so that when she was finished, it looked as if she were wearing a mask. There was nothing natural looking about her skin now, and he didn't like it.

"This," Lacey began, holding up a light powder and a fluffy brush. "Is highlighting powder." She swirled the brush in the powder and lightly began to dust it on Orihime's face.

Orihime clenched her eyes closed and scrunched up her nose, not liking the prickly feeling of the brush's bristles on her skin.

"If you apply it on the bridge of your nose and the area above your cheekbones, it will slim your face. It works wonders, and most women tend to skip this step in their daily routine…"

Ulquiorra could not fathom why this woman believed Orihime needed such a thing. There was nothing wrong with the shape of her face. When he saw her take a pink powder and brush it over Orihime's cheeks, his lips thinned inconspicuously in disapproval. A false blush.

Orihime's fingers itched to reach up and touch her face. Her skin felt…suffocated.

"Now, close your eyes please," Lacey requested, taking a small brush and covering it in a brown shadow.

"W-what is this?" Orihime asked aloud as she felt the smooth brush glide across her closed eyelid.

"This is a smoky brown eye shadow. This color compliments your skin tone and will bring out the color of your eyes—open," she requested, gently. Orihime opened her eyes to look up at the ceiling so Lacey could dust the shadow along her lower lash line. "You have beautiful eyes."

Ulquiorra was sure, knowing Orihime, that she was most likely blushing from the compliment, but it was impossible to tell considering her face was now covered. Warily, he watched as the woman set down the shadow to pick up what looked like a black pen. Requesting Orihime to close her eyes again, the woman drew a dark line along her lashes. When Orihime opened her eyes again, he was slightly startled by how incredibly dark her eyes looked. With all the dark shadow and lines, her usually wide, doe-eyes looked smaller, and less brilliant.

"Now, this mascara is waterproof, so it might be a little difficult to wash off. Just use a good makeup remover, and you should be fine," Lacey continued, pulling a bristled brush from a tube of mascara and combing it along Orihime's lashes, blackening them until they looked heavy and unnatural.

When she was finished applying the mascara and was busy sorting through her many products for some lipstick, Orihime took a moment to glance at herself in a mirror. Before she had time to really look at herself, however, small feminine fingers were guiding her face forwards again. Instinctively, Orihime puckered her lips when she felt the waxy lipstick placed to them.

"Fire engine red," Lacey commented, tracing Orihime's mouth with crimson. "The final touch." Finished, Lacey capped the lipstick and placed it back on the makeup counter. But she wasn't finished just yet. Smiling, she said: "Now, this look is very glamorous, so it's important that there isn't too much going on, so…" Stepping behind Orihime, she gathered her long auburn locks in her hands. "Wearing your hair up and away from your face is ideal." Taking a hair tie, Lacey twisted and secured Orihime's hair into a messy up-do. Returning to stand in front of her, she smiled proudly, admiring her work.

"Beautiful," Lacey and Ami said in sync.

"You look gorgeous, sweetie," Ami gushed, touching Orihime's shoulder as she reached over to pass her the handheld mirror.

Looking into the mirror, Orihime hardly recognized herself. She looked…different. Her entire face was changed. Her lips looked larger, her nose slimmer, her eyes narrower…and she couldn't decide whether she liked it or not. All she knew was that she felt strange looking at herself like this—it just wasn't her. But this had been a gift from Ami, and so she forced a pleased smile on her face. "Wow! I look d-different…"

Different was an understatement. To Ulquiorra, it looked like a stranger sitting in the chair before him. She seemed older, somehow. When she glanced at him with anxious eyes, he stared back, trying to find some semblance of the girl without the makeup, but to no avail.

"What do you think, Ulquiorra?" She asked him, lowering the mirror and looking at him directly.

Instead of answering, his stare moved to Lacey, who looked back at him with a look of slight surprise. "What is the point of this?"

"The point? What do you mean?" She seemed a little defensive, but it most likely stemmed from the way he was speaking to her—aggressively cold.

"Why do you feel the need to change her face?"

Ami, unable to hold it, released a short, pleased laugh.

Orihime bit the inside of her cheek to hide her smile, although she felt a little sorry for the makeup woman. From experience, she knew how scary it was to have Ulquiorra annoyed with you.

Lacey's face flushed, indignantly, but she kept her cool. "Makeup only serves to enhance one's natural features, I did n—"

"It is entirely unnecessary," Ulquiorra cut her off, sharply. He was more riled up than he would like to admit. If Orihime had put this on herself, then it would've been different. But this woman, she had the nerve to think that she could make Orihime more attractive. Such blind ignorance astounded him. How anyone could look at her face and find imperfections amazed him.

"Oh, Ulquiorra," Ami chimed in, smiling gaily. "You're such a man."

This had absolutely nothing to do with his gender, but he was above arguing with the woman.

Glancing down at her watch, Ami gasped. "Oh! Look at the time! If we don't hurry we'll miss our reservation!"

Standing from the chair, Orihime bent to pick up her souvenir bag to find that Ulquiorra was already holding it. She smiled at him, but he diverted his eyes, and she felt her face heat self-consciously. He didn't like her makeup either.

"Ami, do you mind if I just run to the bathroom r—"

"There's no time for that, honey. There are plenty of bathrooms at La Mer. What's important is that we get there in time. Goodness knows that reservation was hard enough to get…"

Orihime sighed, but nodded. She supposed she'd have to wait to remove as much of the makeup as she could.

She could feel it smothering her skin, and she was so uncomfortably aware of it. Her eyes felt heavy, her face cakey, and her lips felt as if there were a layer of clay on them.

But what she felt most was the absence of his eyes.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Which fork was it?" Orihime examined the silver cutlery set before her, not understanding the concept of so many forks.

"It's the smaller one, dear," Ami pointed out, holding up her own salad fork.

"Oh! R-right…"

Like Ami had said, there wasn't a dress code at La Mer, but that didn't make it any less fancy. Orihime felt so incredibly out of place, sitting at this beautifully set table on an open balcony, atop the upper floors of the Halekulani Hotel, overlooking the ocean, wearing her simple summer dress and having her bag of cheap souvenirs resting beside her feet. There was no need for a dress code because the people that could afford to eat at such a restaurant didn't dress like her.

She gazed down, unsurely, at the appetizer that had been brought out for them. Strangely enough, La Mer was a French restaurant, and so the food on her plate was extremely foreign to her. She glanced over at Ulquiorra who was seated beside her. He had yet to touch his appetizer, also.

"What was this called, again?"

"Salade de caille en vinaigrette de…" Ami paused upon seeing Orihime's absolutely lost expression. "It's just roasted quail and salad, honey. Nothing too extravagant."

Quail. She'd never tasted quail before. Picking up her salad fork, Orihime speared a piece of the small bird on the end and brought it to her mouth. As she chewed, she made an unpleasant face that she didn't bother attempting to hide. Some of her lipstick had made its way into her mouth, and it didn't taste nice at all.

Following her example, Ulquiorra took a small bite from the salad to find it fairly tasteful. He didn't quite understand why she was making such a disgusted face, but then again, her taste in food had always been peculiar.

If he was being honest, dinner was not as bad as he'd anticipated. The table was large enough that it kept quite a comfortable distance between himself and Ami, and so far, she'd spent most of their time here speaking to Shuichi.

It was actually quite calming. The warm ocean breeze floated towards them, and he could hear the gentle crash of the waves on the beach below. Soft Hawaiian music was being played from small speakers hidden in palmetto plants situated around the restaurant, and the smell of food was delectable. But what was more was how close his chair was to Orihime's. When she raised her arm to sip from her glass, her elbow would brush his. The proximity was ideal, but her silence…not.

And he was definitely not an expert at casual conversation, and so their silence was only sustained until she finally spoke, in a mumbled rush of words: "Ulquiorra, I don't know if I can eat this…"

Orihime glanced across the table to check if Ami or Shuichi had overheard, only to find them both absorbed in their own private conversation.

"Why not, onna?" He looked at her. The setting sun shined its golden rays upon her face, making her eyes sparkle, and yet…all he could see when he looked at her was makeup.

"It's too…French," she sighed, laying down her fork. "It tastes strange."

"And what would you have me do?" He asked, quietly, looking down at his own plate.

"…do you want mine?" Her voice was hopeful, and he could feel her eyes on the side of his face.

"I do not."

"B-but I can't eat it, and I don't want to offend them by—"

She stopped suddenly, nearly biting her tongue in the process, when she felt his hand fall onto her leg beneath the table. She blushed, her heart palpitating unsteadily as flashbacks from earlier that day ran through her head.

Ulquiorra had only meant the gesture as a silencing one, but obviously, by the look on her face, she'd taken it as something entirely different. Leaning over so that his mouth was closer to her ear, he whispered: "Do not get ahead of yourself, onna."

But even after she took another tentative bite of her salad, he did not remove his hand. Beneath the table, his fingers idly brushed her skin, and she did not make so much as a whimper in protest, which was why he chose to continue. They both ate their salads quietly, looking as if they were ignoring each other, while beneath the table they were communicating quite effectively. His fingertips traced small circles against her leg, but never going any further than where the hem of her dress ended. When the waiter reappeared holding a notepad and a gold pen, Ulquiorra found his hand in Orihime's, her fingers like an iron brace holding his fingers still.

"Good evening," the man greeted, smiling kindly to them. The pen was poised and ready to take their orders, and his eyes were lively and patient.

"Good evening!" Ami replied. "How're you?"

"I am fine, miss. Have you decided what you would like to order?"

Having been distracted, as was normal when she was around Ulquiorra, Orihime hadn't even glanced at the menu yet. Picking it up, she scanned it. The menu was very large, and when she held it up, it looked as if she were hiding behind it—and she was. Using it as a cover, Orihime took advantage of the moment to speak to Ulquiorra while Ami and Shuichi were busy with the waiter.

"Ulquiorra, I don't think I like French food," she complained, still keeping her voice low just in case.

Ulquiorra had no idea what French food was. Having just recently been introduced to the different varieties of her native food, he'd yet to discover the dishes of other countries, and yet she was speaking to him as if he could sympathize. With a gentle pull, he managed to remove his hand from her grasp so he could look at his own menu, only to find that he couldn't recognize the language. "Where is French?"

Orihime, who had been trying her best to decipher the words on the menu couldn't contain her sudden burst of laughter. The other occupants of the table all turned their heads to look at her, and she covered her mouth with her hand as she tried her best to compose herself, her small shoulders visibly shaking with the effort.

"Orihime?" Ami asked, concerned.

"I-I'm fine," Orihime reassured them, picking up her glass of ice water and taking a small sip to hide her smile. "Ulquiorra just said something funny." She glanced at him from behind her glass to see him looking at her, his eyes unamused.

He did not enjoy her laughing at him. Was what he said really that ridiculous? She should not expect him to be an expert on this planet's geography.

"And you, miss?" The waiter said, turning to Orihime who looked up at him, clueless. "What will you be having tonight?"

"Oh! U-um…"

"Lobster. They'll both have the lobster," Ami cut in, winking at both Orihime and Ulquiorra.

Ulquiorra glared at her, annoyed that she was treating them as if they were children who were not trusted to make their own decisions. He would've willingly ordered something else, but unfortunately he could not read the menu.

After the waiter took up their menus and left, Ami, settling her heavy arms on the table, leaned over excitedly. "Please tell the joke again, Ulquiorra! I didn't know you had a sense of humor!"

Ulquiorra remained silent. If he did have a sense of humor, Ami would never see it, that was certain.

Orihime took it upon herself to explain, her face bright with amusement. "Well, he was reading the menu, and neither of us can read French when he asked—," Orihime paused to giggle shortly. "'W-where's French?'" For the second time, she laughed, and this time she didn't bother hiding it.

Ami and Shuichi both looked at her, confused. "I'm sorry, dear, but I don't understand the joke…"

Not thinking, Orihime blurted out: "W-well, Ulquiorra doesn't know where France is because he's fr—" She stopped when she again felt him place a hand on her leg, except this time his fingers were a little more harsh in warning.

"Hm?" Ami's curious eyes looked between them as if she'd noticed the discreet exchange beneath the table. "Where are you from Ulquiorra?"

It was too late. Orihime had just dug them into a very, very deep hole.

Remembering the lie Orihime had told Miwako a few days ago, Ulquiorra answered coolly: "Spain."

Orihime tried her best to hide the look of embarrassment on her face, because she knew what was about to come…

"You're from Spain and you've never heard of France?" Shuichi was the one to ask, his eyes skeptical and his gruff voice, disbelieving.

Beneath the table, Orihime was tapping Ulquiorra's hand trying to relay, desperately, her message: say 'yes'.

"No," he answered, curtly.

"No?" Ami looked at her husband, both of them looking surprised, before returning her attention to Ulquiorra. "Ulquiorra, honey, France borders Spain. How on Earth have you never heard of it?"

"U-um—that's the joke!" Orihime cut in, desperately, forcing an awkward laugh. Removing her hand from beneath the table, she placed it on Ulquiorra's shoulder, hoping he wouldn't say anything more that would give them away. "Of course he knows where France is!"

Ami shook her head, unimpressed. "Sorry, sweetie, but that wasn't a very funny joke." She took a long sip of her wine before continuing, completely changing topic. "So, you're from Europe, Ulquiorra? I thought you looked foreign. It's the eyes, isn't it dear?" She asked Shuichi, who nodded in agreement. "Foreigners always have very colorful eyes."

Orihime sighed, relieved. She really needed to be more careful. For her, Hueco Mundo, and especially Las Noches, were now a part of her world. She had to remember that they weren't a part of others'.

"So, I don't think you've ever told us how you two met. Was it on vacation?"

"Vacation?" Orihime repeated, confused.

"You've been to Spain before, surely?" Ami prodded, intrigued.

Orihime shook her head. "I've never been to Europe. I'd like to, but…"

"It can't be that expensive, especially when you have family over there!" Shuichi commented.

"…family?"

Ulquiorra wanted to shake his head. Sometimes she could be so clueless. "I do not have family in Europe."

"What? None?" Ami seemed shocked. "So Orihime is your only family?"

His family. He supposed the term had something to do with relations, but despite that, perhaps she was the closest thing to family he'd ever had before. When part of the Espada, he had not felt part of a family by any means. Although they were a group, the only attachment held between them was Aizen. But with Orihime, it was different. There was this sense of attachment he felt with her, as if he held real importance in her life now. And in spite of the fact that this relationship between them was fairly new, it was still there, and growing stronger daily. Whether it was friendship, or a familial bond, he supposed it didn't really matter. But she was definitely his only attachment. "Yes."

Orihime's heart jumped, and she glanced at Ulquiorra, but he wasn't looking at her. She almost felt as if he'd really meant that.

"I se—oh! That was fast!" Ami suddenly exclaimed as a cart was wheeled out onto the balcony with four covered plates atop it.

When everything was placed on the table and the plates uncovered, Orihime looked down at her plate, her stomach turning in distaste at the sight. Sitting upon a large ivory plate was a very tiny portion of what was, apparently, lobster. There was some unknown sauce drizzled over the top, and the food had been shaped into a strange circular shape that reminded Orihime of a cake. Atop the entire thing was a singular green leaf, that didn't look very appetizing at all.

"Bon appétit!" The waiter gave them all a short bow before leaving them to eat their dinner.

Following example, Orihime took a small bite to find that it melted like chocolate on her tongue. It was…delicious. She looked over to see Ulquiorra also eating, his face composed, but his eyes engrossed.

"Ulquiorra," Shuichi suddenly said, grabbing his attention. "When was the last time you were in Spain?"

Ulquiorra sat there, unsure of how to answer. He did not know anything about the country, and just a few minutes ago did he learn that it was in Europe and bordering France, but that was the extent of his knowledge. Surely, to avoid raising any more suspicion, it was best to make up a plausible excuse that was in his favor, for once. "I was a child. I remember nothing."

The older man nodded. "'That's a damn shame. Beautiful country."

"You've been?" Orihime interjected, awed. Sometimes she forgot how cultured Ami and Shuichi were.

"Oh, we've been all over Europe, haven't we?" Ami gushed with a wave of her pudgy hand. "Many, many times."

Taking another bite and chewing quickly so she could speak, Orihime asked, wide-eyed and eager: "What's it like?"

Ami shook her head in pleasant reminiscence. "The most beautiful places on Earth are in Europe. Now, I know that might be hard to believe right now, while we're sitting here in Hawaii, but…" She sighed. "It is definitely a necessity that one experiences the romance of Europe at least once. We've been lucky enough to experience it several times."

Orihime glanced out at the setting sun, her eyes dreamy as she imagined what it'd be like. Knights in shining armor, castles, snow-capped mountains, enchanted forests…

"The cruise line is actually doing a raffle for an all expenses paid trip through Europe, I believe," Ami continued, casually, instantly grabbing hold of Orihime's attention.

"R-really? How do you enter?" Excitement rushed through her at just the thought of winning such an amazing prize.

Ami gave her an apologetic smile. "Well, dear, I'm afraid it's only those staying on A-Deck that are in the drawing…"

Orihime fell back against her chair, disappointed. "Oh, well…good luck!"

Ulquiorra, taking a sip of his water, looked at the couple across from him, annoyed. Why she would tell Orihime such a thing and give her false hopes when she had no chance of winning aggravated him. It was unbelievably inconsiderate.

The rest of their dinner was spent with mostly Orihime and Ami exchanging excited conversation, while Ulquiorra busied himself between watching Orihime speak and the setting of the Hawaiian sun. It was when the fiery orb had sunk below the horizon and the sky had turned blue velvet that they all finally stood to leave. His knees had a slight ache in them from spending so long sitting, and he could tell Orihime felt a similar pain when she made an uncomfortable face. As Ami and Shuichi stepped into the restaurant, Ulquiorra reached out a firm hand to grab hold of Orihime's arm, stopping her for a moment. She turned to face him, her eyes curious.

"Onna…" He stepped closer to her, releasing her arm but not her gaze. He remained silent, not sure how to ask what he wanted.

"U-Ulquiorra, um…" Orihime bit down on her lower lip, briefly, the bitter taste of her lipstick on her tongue. "Do you want to go somewhere?" To be honest, while she did like Ami and Shuichi, she'd wanted to spend her last night in Hawaii with just Ulquiorra…alone.

"Will they be with us?" He asked her, knowing she knew whom he was referring to.

Orihime shook her head, shyly. "I don't want them to be…" She glanced behind to see Ami and Shuichi waiting for them. They weren't looking at them, both busy speaking zealously to one of the waiters. "We might have to sneak away, though."

"Fine." He'd had enough, and if she was willing to leave the older couple, then he would gratefully take advantage of the moment. Grabbing hold of her hand, Ulquiorra swiftly lead them into the restaurant. His eyes on Ami and Shuichi, he guided himself and Orihime around many chairs and tables, inaudibly and quickly, until they managed to reach the closed golden doors of the restaurant's only elevator, unnoticed. Pressing the button for the bottom floor, they waited.

"Orihime? Ulquiorra? Where ar—"

But the younger couple never heard the rest of Ami's words, because as fast as possible, they were inside the elevator and the doors were closing. When it began to descend, Orihime sighed tiredly, unthinkingly leaning her head against Ulquiorra's shoulder. "I feel…bad now," she admitted, honestly. After Ami and Shuichi had paid for such a wonderful dinner for her and Ulquiorra, they were ditching them without so much as an explanation.

His hand still holding hers, he asked: "And what is more important, onna?"

"Hmm…" She smiled. "You."

He looked down at her, surprised by her unexpected response. He would not argue with her, however, or ask her for clarification.

Tonight, he was most important to her, and that's all that possibly mattered.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Orihime ran an idle hand through the smooth sand beneath her, humming to herself quietly. Miraculously, they'd found a secluded section along the beach to watch tonight's farewell fireworks that were to be set off by the cruise-line. The ocean waves crashing along the shore calmed her, and she found herself once again laying her head against Ulquiorra's shoulder as they watched the moon's reflection ripple in the moving water. A soft ocean breeze blew some of her hair out of its fastening, and she brought a hand up to wipe the hair from her face.

"I'm going to miss Hawaii," she murmured quietly.

And strangely enough, he found himself agreeing with her. This had definitely been an experience. It had been…interesting. Not a day that he'd spent here was he ever bored, although he was sure it had much more to do with his company rather than the island itself.

Alone now, however, Ulquiorra wasn't thinking of the island. It was her face, earlier, before Ami had found them. It had been bothering him all day, but he hadn't had the chance until now to speak to her about it. "You were upset earlier."

Orihime lifted her head to look at him. "W-what? When?"

"There is no need to feign ignorance, onna." He looked at her. "If you do not wish to tell me, I understand."

She looked away, embarrassed. She wanted to speak to him. She wanted him to know that she felt comfortable confiding in him…it was just difficult for her, especially when it involved her feelings for him. Shyly, she curled her fingers around his hand, but she still refused to look at him as she spoke. "I thought that maybe…I'd offended you. I-I'm really bad with words sometimes, Ulquiorra, and I didn't mean to sound like I was blaming you or anything, I just…" She furrowed her brows, pausing, before meeting his stare. "I just got embarrassed."

"I told you that I would not go so far again."

Orihime was shaking her head in protest before he even finished. "I-I didn't mean you should stop, just…it should be in private so no one else sees…"

"And tell me, onna…" His voice was curious; quiet, and Orihime found it impossible to take her eyes off of his. She felt his fingers move beneath her hand to curl around hers, and her heart fluttered. "What would be the point?"

She felt as if the air had been sucked from her lungs, and she didn't have a clue as to what to say next, or the capability to speak. Her eyes conveyed, clearly, her loss for words, and Ulquiorra ran a soothing thumb across her hand.

"If no one is there to see, then why should I touch you at all?" His question was left floating in the air between them, ominous and nerve-wracking. Slowly, he guided his fingers from her hand, up the side of her arm where he brushed some sand from her naked shoulder. So soft and smooth, he could not resist the temptation, and leaning into her, he brushed his lips across her shoulder, only to hear her inhale raggedly, as if she were scared. "Why sh—"

His words were drowned out by the popping, sparkling magenta firework exploding in the sky. Both their eyes turned upwards, their attention momentarily stolen. As its sparks rained down, a second firework was set off, this one a brilliant gold. It spiraled high into the sky and exploded to look as big as the sun itself.

Ulquiorra looked again at Orihime to see her mouth pulled down in a sign of upset. He had made her anxious. He was being selfish, looking too soon for answers. They still had time. This was the end of their time on this island, but not the cruise. He could wait.

"Orihime." She looked at him, her eyes slightly wide in disbelief that he'd used her name. He was looking at her, his emerald eyes darkened with sincerity. "I will stop if you ask."

She held his gaze for a few long seconds, contemplating his words, before turning her eyes back to the fireworks and nodding in embarrassed understanding. Embarrassed because she knew that no matter how much he made her shake inside, no matter how flushed her face, or how tongue-tied and anxious she became, she would never ask him to stop.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

"That woman was an idiot."

Orihime giggled into her pillow, not denying it. She was a little slaphappy with it being so late. She believed they were both at the point where they'd been up for so long that they were finding it hard to fall asleep. But this feeling was wonderful.

They'd returned from the beach in the early morning. By the time they'd both showered and put on their nightclothes before crawling into bed, they just weren't tired anymore. And so here they were, laying together in the dark, facing each other, wide-awake and talking every now and then about nothing, just to pass the time.

"I think you scared her," Orihime admitted, scooting closer to him so that she could see his face better. They'd just spent the last couple of minutes talking about the makeup artist from earlier, Lacey. Apparently Orihime's makeup had bothered Ulquiorra more than she'd imagined. At least now that she washed it all off, she felt like herself again.

Gently, Ulquiorra brought a hand to her neck where he pushed her hair behind her shoulder. She didn't try to stop him, curious to see what he was doing. His fingertips touched her skin, and she winced.

"What is this, onna?" He hadn't noticed it earlier, but now that they were so close, he could see it clearly. In the dark, it looked as if there were a small bruise on the side of her neck.

Blushing, and diverting her eyes, Orihime covered the area with her hand, self-consciously. She'd noticed it earlier after she'd stepped out of the shower. It took her a few moments to recognize what it was, and when she did, she'd flushed completely red in mortification. "I-I think it's a…hickey." She didn't have to look at him to know he was confused. "It's like…a bruise, sort of."

He didn't understand her blush. "When did this happen?"

"Um, Ulquiorra…you g-gave it to me…" She glanced at him to see him staring at her silently, probably thinking of how he hurt her. "I guess you could call it a k-kissing mark?"

Understanding dawned on him, and gently, he removed her hand from her neck so he could look upon the mark again. Now knowing what it was, he didn't hate it so much, and judging by the look on her face, neither did she. "How long will it take to heal?"

She shrugged. "I'm not sure, I've never had one before…"

"I see." He brushed his fingers over it again, making sure to be gentler than before. "Forgive me. I did not know."

She shook her head. "It's fine, Ulquiorra." The spot was a little sore, however. Hesitantly, she took his hand from her neck, but didn't let go. "It's not permanent."

He thought that perhaps he'd like it to be, however. In a way, such a mark on her skin was a temporary sign that she was his. That his lips had touched her so intimately, and no one else's. The thought that it would soon fade away disappointed him.

"I really don't know if I can fall asleep tonight," she suddenly said, completely changing the topic to one that was more comfortable, and snuggling further into her pillow.

"You're not tired." It was obvious. He'd never seen her so giddy at such a late hour, before.

She smiled. "Will you stay up with me?"

His gaze fell to their locked hands, curiously. "Fine." It wouldn't require much effort, to be honest. He found it impossible to sleep next to her most nights, anyway. But tonight just may prove to be the most difficult yet. He wasn't sure if she'd realized it yet, but somehow she'd managed to come so close to him that when she exhaled, he could feel her breath on his skin. This proximity was dangerous, and his fingers, having already experienced a sample of her silky skin, were itching for more. And she made it all the more tempting by wearing so little to bed. His eyes fell to her breasts, barely held within the loose silk top she was wearing, and a thought came to mind. "Onna…"

"Hm?"

Unwinding his fingers from hers, he touched the silken strap of her top that had fallen down her shoulder and pulled it back up before meeting her eyes. "Would you be this way if it had not been me who accompanied you?"

Her slender brows piqued. "What do you mean?"

"If it had been Ishida Uryuu instead. Would you also suggest that he sleep beside you?" It was a fair question, and one that had been bothering him. He wasn't specifically asking about just Ishida, but any of her male friends. If she had asked one of them to accompany her instead, would it have been so easy for her to share a bed with them also? Just the thought of her being this way around another man twisted his stomach with jealousy. He felt protective towards her, and the way she reserved her shy smiles for only him made him feel as if he were entitled to call her his own, somehow. But would she be like this around her friends whom she'd known longer? He still wasn't able to fully comprehend how he was able to affect her so much. Was she just sensitive, or was it something else?

Orihime bit her lip and thought about it. Would she? She supposed that she could've slept on the floor, which wasn't a big deal, but…it had never occurred to her before. Sleeping beside Ulquiorra was just…easy for her. It was awkward sometimes, but she never felt strange about it like she knew she would if it'd been anyone else. "No, I wouldn't feel comfortable like I do with you."

"Is it because you think that I will not touch you?" He challenged. He could see it in her eyes that this was, in fact, exactly what she believed, and for some reason, this irritated him. Pulling his hand from hers, he brushed curious fingertips across her hip. Her silk top had risen, exposing part of her midriff, and he felt her inhale sharply when he touched her stomach. "You are too naïve, onna."

"B-but…" Her voice was surprisingly calm, although her heartbeat was anything but. "It's different, though. You're just curious, r-right?"

His hand stopped its idle exploration of her skin. "Is that what you think?" Curious. He knew what she was saying. This body of his was new, this world was new, everything was new to him, and he was exploring it out of curiosity. He was touching her because this was new—her skin, her warmth. She thought of herself as some sort of research for him. Of course, that was the only way she could possibly make sense of his advances. Who was he, after all? He'd been part of the Espada. He'd been cold, unfeeling, and hollow. Of course she would never think that perhaps his feelings had matured past that of just simple curiosity. But despite knowing why she thought this way, he was still angry. He touched her because he liked the flush on her face and the way she looked at him, as if she were scared but didn't want him to stop. He liked how she said his name, and how her fingers curled into his shirt when he came too close to her. He didn't touch her out of mere curiosity. His feelings were not so simple.

He removed his hand from her skin. He did not want her to think this way, but he knew why she would. But he did not want to be the one to correct her. She would have to understand on her own that when he touched her, it was because he enjoyed it. She needed to be able to see on her own his sincerity.

Hopefully, soon, she would realize her significance to him, and when she did, he hoped beyond measure that she would not be afraid.

A/N: Please review! I wish there was a better way of sharing my appreciation for everyone that has reviewed this story. Each one has put a much-needed smile on my face. I hope I didn't disappoint!