I'm heading back to San Francisco again this weekend. I will be there for a week. I will try an update another LYTO chapter from there, but I can't guarantee anything. Updates for 'Angles and Demons' and 'Trust to Hope' will come after I return from SF.
As for this chapter, there is a tiny 'Game of Thrones' (the TV series) reference. Someone calls Orihime what Cersei calls Sansa in the series.
Beta Cerice Belle.
Chapter 11
PRESENT
Orihime was at the Kurosaki's because Rukia had called her earlier that day, asking her to drop by for dinner. She sat on the black leather couch, along with Ichigo while Rukia was on the beanbag facing them. They were having a healthy debate on politics.
"Rukia," Ichigo said after the debate ended, "get us some desert?"
"Sure," Rukia said as she walked over to the kitchen.
Ichigo waited till his wife was out of earshot, "I hear you're back in touch with Ulquiorra?"
"Yes I am," Orihime replied with a smile.
He smiled slightly "Rukia and the others wanted me to convince you to stay away from him. Essentially that's what this dinner was all about."
Orihime nodded. She had a suspicion that it would be something like this.
"People seem to think I can talk 'sense' into you," he shook his head, "I didn't want to be a part of this but Rukia was adamant. I would have told her the truth if I thought she'd listen but she and the rest of the gang firmly believe that he is not good for you. They want you to stay away from him but I'm not going to tell you any of that."
Orihime smiled, grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, "I know you won't."
"I can't, not after everything that happened," he replied, "I do however have an advice for you."
"And that would be?"
He looked at her seriously, "Don't let him get away this time. The others may not know it, but I know how much you need him. They weren't there to see you break down, I was. I can't forget that scene. I don't want you to go through that ever again. "
Orihime's eyes filled with tears as she looked at him, "Thank you, Ichigo. You have no idea how much that helped."
He nodded, "Have you told him that you loved him?"
Orihime shook her head, "I can't. I'm scared. I don't want to open a can of worms."
"I understand," he replied.
Soon after, Rukia walked in with Tiramisu and the conversation was steered on to other topics. Orihime however felt torn. On one hand she was upset and angry at her friends' attempted intervention and on the other hand she was happy about Ichigo's support. If only her other friends could look past their prejudices.
Orihime was at her clinic when her phone rang. The name on the screen set her pulse racing and with a small smile on her lips she answered the call.
"Ulquiorra, hi."
"Hi," he sounded distracted, "Busy?"
"Not really, tell me?"
"What are you doing this Saturday?"
She resisted the urge to squeal her answer, "Nothing. Why?"
"Good. I have to attend a fundraiser. A client of mine wants me to be there to help him with his prospective donors. Mostly I'll be in the company of dull people and will have to listen to even more tedious conversations. Luckily I can bring someone along so, will you do me the honor of bearing with me as my companions bore you death?"
She laughed, "Is that the way you ask someone to accompany you?"
"Would you like me to rephrase?" he mulled.
"No. I got your message the first time," she answered.
"So will you?"
"Will I what?"
"Come with me?" he seemed a little anxious.
"Sure!"
"Great. I'll pick you up at 7.00pm," he said sounding relieved, "See you then!"
"See you!"
"Oh and wear something nice," he said, almost as an afterthought.
"You got it," she answered.
After Orihime disconnected the call, she felt a wave of anxiety overtake her. She was going to see him again! She had carefully avoided seeing him for a while in the hopes that she would have gotten over the ridiculous desire for him and maintain the status quo of their relationship. However her plan hadn't worked. Instead of simmering down, her lust had only increased. In fact she had had some very elaborate wet dreams about him. She would have liked to think that she would be able to control herself by Saturday, but she knew that was just wishful thinking. She had been thinking about him ceaselessly, yearning for him all the time. There was no way that she was going to get over this ache that she had developed for him. Orihime took a deep breath, forcing herself to concentrate on her work and ignore the exhilaration building within her.
Saturday came as a beautiful spring day. Ulquiorra sat on his couch, staring at the clock as if he could will it to strike 7:00. He was going to see her again. The mere thought of it had kept him awake last night. The knot in his stomach refused to go away. He wanted time to speed up so that he could meet her but also for it to slow down so that he could calm his nerves. Several times over the past few weeks his resolve had weakened and he had almost gone over to meet her, just to see her once again. But then he had held back. It wouldn't do for him to weaken. He had resolved to treat her like a friend.
That was only part of the reason why he was holding back. The other reason why he wasn't willing to act on his wishes was that he was battling his own insecurities. Relationships, regardless of their nature, weren't his strong suit. In his life he had only had five friends, four of whom never knew the truth of his parent's murder. Orihime was the only one he had ever confided into about it and that too had been the cliff notes version. The loss of his parents had wounded him severely and he had, as a result, built a wall around himself.
Over the years he had relaxed a little and had allowed more people to come closer to him than he had as an adolescent, but till date, Grimmjow and Orihime remained the only two people with whom he could truly be himself. And therein lay his biggest insecurity. He depended on them. He had run away from Orihime once and had since then regretted that decision every day. Her absence had cleaved a gaping hole within him. He had forever felt incomplete. It was as if a part of him had always been missing.
When she breezed back into his life, she brought that missing part of him back with her. Now he was scared. He was scared that if he gave into his desires, Orihime would leave him yet again. He didn't think he would be able to handle that. He was terrified of feeling lonely again and therefore he would bury his traitorous thoughts deep within him.
Eventually the clock stuck 5:30pm. With slow deliberate movements he got off the couch and walked over to the bathroom. Forty-five minutes later, he combed his hair and applied gel to it. He then picked up his glasses and put them on. Suddenly he remembered how Loly would insist that he wear contacts. He had tried and hated them. She had thought that he was deliberately putting her idea down. He briefly wondered why he had even dated that woman. It hadn't taken him long to see past the sweet smiles and the charming personality. He had seen the real person soon enough, but he had still hung around. He was willing to put up with her flaws because she was willing to put up with his and he knew he had quite a few of them. Spotting her with Ggio had been unpleasant but not as bad as it probably should have been.
He frowned. For some reason, he found himself thinking about her of late. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't shake off the warning she had given all those weeks ago. He had an uncomfortable feeling that something bad was about to happen. He told himself that it was because she had been pursuing him doggedly, asking for a second chance and begging forgiveness for losing her temper. He kept refusing her stoically, hoping that she would get the hint eventually.
Finally, at around 6:20pm, he left his house and started for Orihime's. The traffic was heavy and he reached her house just as the clock was striking 7:00. Thankful that he didn't have the time to dither, he walked over to the intercom, punched in her access code and went to the elevator. Once the contraption started moving, his nerves started to get the better of him. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that she was just his friend. Although, that didn't stop his heart from beating in an excited rhythm. At her floor, he rang her bell and she opened the door almost immediately. His heart stopped and restarted. She was dressed in emerald green – HIS green.
When the bell rang at ten minutes to seven, Orihime all but ran to the door only pausing to check her appearance in the full length mirror. She had chosen this dress after a long deliberation. She had purchased it last year simply because the color reminded her of his eyes but she had never found the occasion to wear it. When he had asked her to wear something nice, she had immediately thought of this dress. In her mind this was his color. She wondered if she would be sending some subtle, unintentional signal by wearing this color but then decided that she was overthinking. There was no way Ulquiorra would think that way. She had tried other dresses, but her mind was made up. This was what she wanted to wear.
She nodded once, satisfied, and rushed over to open the door, her fingers almost shaking with anxiety and nervousness. At the door, she paused to take a deep, calming breath and opened the door with a smile.
"Princess!" Chizuru squealed, "You look absolutely divine!"
Orihime gripped the handle tightly as she forced herself to smile, but failed. "Chizuru," she said coldly.
"Going somewhere?" the red-head asked walking in uninvited.
"Yes," she said shortly.
"Awww," Chizuru said settling on the couch, "I was hoping to spend the Saturday night with you."
"No can do," Orihime said still standing by the open door.
Completely missing the subtle action, Chizuru picked up a magazine, "Where are you off to?"
"A party," she replied, trying her best not to slam the door as she closed it.
Chizuru's eyes lit up, "Really? Where? Can I come?"
Orihime bit the inside of her cheek to rein in her impatience. There was no point in hiding, she would see him anyway. Plus, why should she hide, it wasn't like she was doing something wrong. "I'm going to a party with Ulquiorra."
The reaction was instant. The magazine dropped from her hand and her eyes darkened, "You never told me."
"I didn't realize I was supposed to tell you," Orihime somehow managed to control her temper.
"Hime," Chizuru said seriously, "Why don't you understand? He is dangerous. You're too innocent. You don't know what it's like out there."
Orihime's control snapped, "And you do? Excuse me for saying this Chizuru, but you work at a Spa! All you deal with are pampered housewives and other people who can afford that kind of luxury. I on the other hand, work with seriously disturbed people. I work with criminals, sociopaths, psychopaths; people who can and will kill me if I take one wrong step. So pardon me for saying this, I do know the world and I know it better than you."
The red-head stood up, hurt and offended. She had just opened her mouth to say something when the bell rang again. Without giving her a chance to respond, Orihime opened the door to find Ulquiorra standing there, dressed in a chocolate brown tuxedo, his hands in his pockets. He gave her a once over and said, "You look nice."
The compliment dissipated the dark mood that Chizuru had brought forth and she welcomed him in. She saw him pause only for a fraction of a second at the sight of the red-head but he regained his composure before Chizuru could spot anything amiss.
"Ulquiorra Schiffer," Chizuru said icily.
"Chizuru Honsho, I presume?" he replied.
"What exactly are you playing at?" she asked rudely.
"Chizuru," Orihime warned.
Ulquiorra frowned, "I wasn't aware I was 'playing at' something."
She scowled, "The innocent act doesn't suit you, Schiffer."
Ulquiorra shrugged, "If you say so."
"You're not even going to defend yourself?" Chizuru was incredulous.
"I'm not entirely sure what I'm supposed to defend myself against. I don't see anything worth the effort here," he answered calmly.
Orihime managed to stifle the snort. Chizuru wasn't aware of the veiled insult Ulquiorra had just given her.
"Well, whatever," Chizuru huffed and walked out of the apartment. Orihime made no attempt to stop her.
"What was that?" Ulquiorra asked.
"She's very critical of you. She can't get over her prejudice for you," she replied tiredly.
"Most people can't," he replied with a shrug, "But she is slightly different. I think she loves you."
"No she doesn't," Orihime answered, "She wants to own me. She thinks of me as her property. She's confusing possessiveness for love."
Ulquiorra shrugged, "Shall we go?"
She brightened, "Just a minute."
As soon as she turned Ulquiorra felt his heart drop and a certain other part of him move in response. The silky emerald gown that hugged her body, showing off a flawless figure, also showed most of her toned back, right up to her narrow waist. Her long hair was tied in a messy half bun, with a few strands falling elegantly on her slender neck, emphasizing on her narrow shoulders and the blemish-less skin.
Shit!
Why did she have to choose a backless gown? How the hell was he going to keep his thoughts, his eyes and his hands in check? And what of the traitorous thing down below? What the hell was he going to do about that? How was he going to control the enormous hard on that she gave him without even trying? Abruptly he sat down and crossed his legs, both to hide his very evident reaction and to stop himself from going over and burying his face at the crook of her neck or run his fingers along her spine. This party was going to seriously test his resolve.
Something was wrong. Ever since they left the house, Ulquiorra had seemed aloof. He had kept a steady stream of conversation in the car, as was his custom, to keep her fear at bay. But it had seemed forced. He had asked her a few random questions like had she ever learned to drive (which she had, before the accident), what was going on with her work etc. Once they entered the party, he had all but shut up, speaking only when spoken to. He had introduced her to the host curtly. Orihime knew she would figure out what was bothering him if she could meet his eyes but he was studiously avoiding her gaze.
Later at the table, one donor was asking Ulquiorra about the options available to him and the tax benefits he could avail, should he choose to donate. From the chatty woman sitting next to her, Orihime learned that Ulquiorra's client, who was hosting the party, was the head of the Science department of the University. He needed funds for research in the chemistry department and hence the fundraiser.
Orihime noticed that her wine was over. She decided to refill her drink, and seeing as Ulquiorra was busy with the donor, she figured he wouldn't miss her. She walked over to the buffet table and filled her glass. She paused at the appetizers counter, wondering what to take when someone touched her arm. She turned around to find herself staring at a stranger who'd obviously had a few drinks too many. Wary of him, Orihime took a couple of steps back, extricating her arm from his grasp.
"Has your date abandoned you, little dove?" the man asked with a slurred voice.
Orihime seethed at the condescending tone. "Please excuse me sir," she said curtly and tried to walk away. But he barred her way and moved a little too close. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. She tried to walk sideways, but he barred her way again.
"Come on, little dove," he said leeringly, "what's the hurry? The night is young. We can have some fun, eh?" he finished with a wink.
Disgust and revulsion roiled within her as she coolly replied, "Get lost."
"Spunky! I like that!" he said and licked his lips.
Orihime took a step back only to collide with someone. She turned around to find Ulquiorra standing at her shoulder, his eyes spewing fire. He wrapped a possessive arm around her waist and asked in a low voice, "Is he bothering you?"
Orihime's spirits soared. She smiled and looked at his face, "A bit."
Ulquiorra's hand clutched tighter around her as he stared at the man. Braver men would have quelled under the cold, fierce stare. The man mumbled something about mistaking her for someone and fled the scene. Ulquiorra turned towards her, his hand still at her waist, concern writ large in his eyes.
"Are you alright?" he whispered.
Orihime nodded, unable to speak. Without thinking she placed her hands on his chest. Very gently he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ears as he said, "I got worried."
"I thought you were busy and hadn't seen what was going on," she answered in a low voice.
"What're you talking about?" he asked cupping her cheek, "My eyes never left you."
Something told Orihime that if she bridged the little distance between them and hugged him now, it would be the right thing to do. His eyes had a soft expression that sent a delicious thrill down her spine. Just as Orihime was about to act on her impulse, Ulquiorra dropped his hands and stepped back. His face was devoid of all expressions.
"Come, let's get back to the table," he said in an odd voice.
Later that night Orihime lay on her bed, thinking about the little incident at the party. There was something about the way he had touched and looked at her that made her feel that maybe she could make a move. Her instincts told her that if she did, he wouldn't push her away, instead he would respond. But Ulquiorra was a complicated man; she couldn't simply go and tell him that she was insanely attracted to him. Plus he was her best friend. She wouldn't dream of jeopardizing her relationship with him based on an instinct born out of a small incident. He was after all a man. It was quite possible that for a moment all he saw was a woman and not his friend. She believed that as soon as he remembered who she was, he had retreated into his shell.
Orihime turned over in her bed, reliving that touch. Her heart refused to believe the reasons her mind was trying to present. It was convinced that the attraction was mutual. However her mind insisted it wasn't. Undecided and torn over her mind and heart, she tossed and turned for most of the night. It was during the wee hours that she finally came to a decision. She was going to test the waters surreptitiously. If he responded, she would make a move, if not, she would remain a friend.
