I'm back! Sorry for the last two weeks- I had a HUGE computer crash. Had to re-write this chapter and a bit after it, but I don't mind so much. I think it came out better the second time. Anyway, thank you all for sticking with me so far! I promise that it's not going to be this touch-and-go type of situation between Orihime and Ulquiorra for too much longer!

Chapter rating: T

Chapter warnings: Orihime being too cute

Almost two months before the incident involving the two females trying to convince me of my own feelings in the café while Orihime was out, I attained a day job. The hours were short, and the pay was too, but the extra money came in handy. There are days I know Orihime will be late coming home, as so I will work those entire days away instead of leading my own studies in the apartment.

It is a job in a small veterinary clinic and shelter familiar with Orihime, who comes in often to see the animals. I simply move things.

At first the manager- Hana- had been doubtful about my abilities, due to my slight frame. However, after a full day of moving feedbags around, she reconciled her earlier opinion and hired me. I move animal crates, food bags, and haul large buckets of water about. When I am not doing these things the manager has me work on repairing broken objects or building new fences. For the most part, they do not need me often, but on the days I request longer hours they always manage to find a slew of jobs that need to be done.

It is because of this job that I find myself without any guilt when Orihime purchases a cellphone for me. It becomes useful when she is at school and needs things from me, or if I am out and there is something she wants me to pick up, or vice versa. Because of this I always carry the phone on my person.

At this very moment I am regretting it.

From Arisawa: Have you told her yet?!

To Arisawa: No.

Why the hell not Cifer?

Do not rush me, Arisawa.

fck man ur going to be an old grumpy man before you tell her

Perhaps.

CIFER

Tatsuki Arisawa has been pestering me about confessing my affections to the woman for some time now. It is not only annoying, but also a dangerous thing, as Orihime innocently peeks over my shoulder to see what I am doing and who I am texting every now and then. If she were to see all would be ruined.

Yes, Arisawa?

What the hell are you waiting for?

What am I waiting for? I do not know. Certainly not the 'right moment' since such things rarely present themselves, and not some sort of sign, since I am sure I will not pick up on it. I am not stupid, nor am I blind, but I am doubtlessly confused when it comes to the woman.

So what am I waiting for?

Nothing.

I simply do not see a reason to tell her.

Do you not want to be more than friends?

I am content.

Didnt ask that cifer

I do not want to push the woman into anything she would not feel comfortable with.

OH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD

"Whacha' doin', Ulquiorra?"

I manage not to start when the woman suddenly appears at my side, stirring a bowl full of some sort of red jelly. It's certainly not the worst thing she's made up, but it smells strongly of eggs, so I am wary of it already.

"Attempting to calm your friend, Arisawa Tatsuki."

"Is she okay?" The woman, concerned, sets her bowl down to come around behind me. She places her chin on my shoulder- too close, she smells wonderful, damn it all- and wraps her arms around my front- does she not realize what she's doing for the love of all that is honest and good in this world why- and says, "What's going on?"

My phone buzzes, but I do not know what Arisawa will have said, so I do not open the message. I shut the phone and pocket it, hoping the woman will back off before I combust.

"It is nothing important." I say. "She is simply concerned for us."

"Why?" She quirks her head to the side. "Did we do something?"

"No, it is-" Orihime's cat ringtone goes off.

She opens her phone. "Oh! It's Tatsuki!" She reads the text, blind to the silent panic I'm enduring, and then furrows her brows. "Tatsuki wants me to tell you to stop ignoring her?"

My phone buzzes again. "Please inform her that I've lost my phone."

She quirks her head to the side. "Ulquiorra, it's in your pocket."

"Oh, is it? Foolish me." I take it out and chuck it across the room, knowing it will land safely in the bundle of blankets and pillows Orihime had left out form her morning movie marathon. "Now I've lost it."

She laughs. "You're so weird."

"Hn."

She begins to text Arisawa back, reading out loud as she does. "Ul… quiorra… just threw… his phone… across the room. He can't… answer you… right now. And, send!" She snaps her phone closed. "There, did that work?"

We both listen to the angry buzzing of my cellular device somewhere amongst the pillows.

I let out a long sigh. The Arisawa woman is too pushy for my tastes.

My phone begins to ring somewhere on the other side of the room.

Really, it wouldn't be hard. I could simply shunpo to her location now. There must be rope somewhere in the woman's room, I'm sure of it. Once in a closet, Arisawa would never be able to meddle again. Would that count as murder? I had promised the woman before I would not commit murder while in her realm. But then, Arisawa would die of her own body's failure to function- dehydration or starvation. I would not strictly be my fault if I simply forgot about her. But then, Orihime would not be pleased with the development, would she?

"Since I have lost my phone," I say dryly, turning to Orihime, "May I borrow yours for a moment, Orihime?"

"Sure!" She hands it over with a big smile, like she finds joy in letting me use her things. I resist a wave of heat rising to my face as our fingers make contact.

I hash out a very simple, very quick text to Arisawa. Allow things to progress as they will. I tell her. Do not force this. Do not force me. I have had enough of being controlled.

It takes her longer than usual to reply, but when she does, it seems that she has been sobered by my honesty. I apologize, Cifer. You're right. I just want her to be happy that's all

Understood.

She does not text back. I delete our three shared messages quickly, suddenly tired. Dealing with anyone who isn't Orihime is a stressful affair- even when it is over text.

Her hand on my shoulder startles me.

"Are you alright?"

Her face is closer to mine than is normal. She is in her casual clothes today- the summer wear. Her long tan legs are folded beneath her rump, which is clothed in small blue shorts. Her pink tank top sticks to her shoulders, which have become slightly sweaty in the heat. She's pulled all of her hair up into a messy tail at the top of her head, but free strands curl against the back of her freckled neck. Her lips are shiny and plump- she is wearing the pineapple lip-gloss Masumoto bought for her on a whim.

She looks stunning.

I swallow through the tightness of my throat and manage to say, "I am fine." Despite this, my mind is running rampant, and I am still very acutely aware of the heat her palm radiates onto my shoulder. Those eyes of her- silver moons in the middle of the summer's day- stare and try to pick me apart; gentle despite their intentions.

"Is she bothering you too much?" She asks quietly.

"No. It is fine, now." She painted her nails white. When did that happen? The glossed tips just barely press into the thin material of my top. I had not been too hot up until that very moment, but suddenly I wish for the chill of the Hueco Mundo nights to sooth the feeling brewing under my skin. "Your hand is sweaty," I say. I see her wince and realize perhaps that was not the right thing to say. "Forgive me. It is hot, and your warm palms make me more aware of this."

She laughs a little, still quiet, and looks over to where she's set up her small portable fan behind her. "Yeah," She says sheepishly. "One day I'll be able to afford air conditioning…"

"Air conditioning?"

She nods, still distracted by something. What, I am not sure, but she's got the glazed look in her eyes that tells me she may be daydreaming- so it is probably for the best that I do not ask.

"It's, um, a machine that makes the air cold." She turns back to me and smiles. "If you're too hot, Ulquiorra-kun, you can change. It's your turn to do the laundry anyway."

"Of course." Despite my saying it, I do not move to do anything. Her presence is simply too overwhelming. The scent of her mango shampoo is suffocating me- and for the life of me, I cannot understand why I enjoy it so. I can feel my pulse in my stomach, and my fingers are more jittery than is usual. I want to press my forehead to hers and just stare into her eyes for years and years, until finally I can understand them. I want to know what goes on in that head of hers. I want to pick her apart in the most gentle way possible- I want to know every last piece of her.

She quirks her head to the side. "Ulquiorra?"

"Ah." I realize that I have yet to move. I reach up and quickly begin undoing buttons to my shirt while she turns to her glass of ice water. The cubes are melting faster than they should, I think. She reached over to the laundry basket- since she had been folding during my business with Arisawa, and grabs a white rag.

She dips the rag into her glass as I slip out of my shirt. The fan turns and blows a much-needed line of air of my sweating skin, cooling me for a moment before it turns back to her and sends her pony tail trailing over a shoulder. As it does she lifts her soaked washcloth and then rings it above her neck, sighing as the freezing water drips down onto her and begins to soak the back of her shirt.

"May I try?"

She turns to me and freezes for a moment, seemingly caught off-guard, but I am not sure by what. Perhaps she is taken back by the lack of my rank tattoo- something that I have yet to become used to as well. Maybe she had not expected that I would ask to drip water over my skin.

I hold my hand out in asking for the dripping rag in her palm.

"O-of course!" She turns her head fast, breaking our eye-contact and unknowingly whipping me in the face with the end strands of her pony tail.

I swipe a hand over my face once, not mentioning it. It would only embarrass her. Silently, I take the soaked rag from her, and then lean back to ring it up over my collar and chest. The water feels pleasantly cold against the sweat beading over my body, though I soon realize that this unconventional method of cooling has soaked the hem of my jeans. It doesn't matter- the momentary cool causes me to disregard the consequences.

I turn to hand her back the rag and find her watching me- eyes wide and face red. The heat is clearly beginning to get to her, causing her to become so flushed in the face and stare off into space.

"Orihime," I said quietly- it is best not to startle her in the midst of her daydreams. Sometimes she fantasizes about being a prizefighter and comes out of her delusions swinging. Other times she is thinking of Los Noches in days past, and comes out spooked. No matter the circumstance, it is best to ease her back into reality. "Your cloth." I press it back into her open palm.

"R… right…" She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment as her eyes stare through me. When my skin touches her own she jerks back into reality, face reddening so much that it dulls her hair. "Right!" She squeaks. She takes the rag back and turns from me- this time I am able to avoid her hair- and then busies herself with the laundry.

Having nothing to do myself, I reach past her and take some of the towels from the basket in order to fold them. My wrist brushes her shoulder as I lean past and she shudders, arms breaking out in goose bumps.

As I take the clothing into my lap to fold it, I cannot help but raise an eyebrow. Is she unwell, or is the ice water simply working too well? It's still sweltering in the room, and yet her body reacts as though it is cold.

I glance at her as I fold and find she's rubbing the arm I touched carefully, other hand pressed to her chest. Her head is bowed, so I cannot see her expression even if I lean forward to see around the slope of her shoulder. Is she disgusted with my touch? Did I shock her? Perhaps she is repulsed by the feeling of my sweat-covered skin; I would not blame her.

Absentmindedly, I wipe my palms on the legs of the jeans.

I should apologize for crowding her space. That is the problem. I have read about discomfort that humans may experience due to proximity in the heat. I reach out to gently touch her back, which is visible for once with her hair pulled up, just so that I may apologize.

The second my fingers touch her back she lets out a sharp gasp and almost seems to roll her torso, thrusting out her chest as she shudders. She quickly spins around, red again, saying, "S-sorry Ulquiorra-kun- my, my back is very sensitive and- I-I... I..."

I blink a couple of times. "It is nothing." I say. "I simply wished to apologize for touching you before. It seems you are not comfortable with the sensation in this heat."

"Oh, no, Ulquiorra, you're fine!" She turns her entire body around so that she faces me, dragging the clothes she's folding with her. "It's not you, don't worry!"

I raise an eyebrow. "The goose flesh," I remind her, "It's back. Are you feeling sick?"

"Goose flesh…?" She looks down at her arms, staring at the thousands of tiny bumps in surprise. "Um. No- no, no, no, I'm just fine, ha-ha! The ice just made me cold all the sudden!"

"Would you like a cover?" I stand, reaching for the nearest item on hand- my jacket, which is hanging in the entryway. I hand it to her and she blushes again.

"Um, no, that's fine!"

I put it back, now more confused than ever. If she is cold, why will she not take it? That is, if she is cold. She has stolen my jackets many times in the past, so it would be no issue now unless she was hiding something.

I narrow my eyes. She is acting very strange. "Are you not cold, woman?"

"I'm okay now!"

"Hm." Slowly I lower myself back to the floor. There is something going on that I am oblivious to here. "If you believe it so." I say, despite myself. If she says it is nothing, than it is nothing- despite what it feels like. I must be misreading the situation.

She looks down at her hands. For a long second it's quiet, but then suddenly, she says, "Ulquiorra?"

I turn to her.

"I'm, uh… there's something I need to tell you."

My stomach drops out. Her tone is nervous and serious, and immediately my mind leaps to the conclusion that she's found out about my affections. It explains everything- the way she shies away from my touch and her staring, the refusal of the jacket and the half-truths. Someone has told her, and this is the moment of confrontation. I can't simply lie to her about it- not after all she has done. Which one of them was it? The Kuchiki girl? Kurosaki? No- the lewd shinigami woman. It had to have been her. I will kill that woman; I do not care how good she thought her intentions or of the horrors she faced in the past. For removing me from Orihime's good graces, she will pay.

I swallow back everything, realizing she's waiting for a reply. It shames me to hear my voice come out hoarse when I say, "Go on."

"I…" She twists the shirt in her hands, staring down at it as she flushes. "I…"

Meow, meow, meow!

We both start at the sound of her phone ringing. She almost looks relieved to have been interrupted by the noise as she scrambles to get to the table and answer the device.

"H-hello?"

I wait as she speaks with the person on the other line. She keeps to one-word replies and is very polite as she goes about her business, so I gather that it must be the distant aunt who is charged with providing the woman support.

"I understand." She says, and finally, she hangs up. "Talk to you later..."

"Who was it?"

"My aunt." She confirms. "Just checking up."

"Hm." She'll meet my eyes now, since she is distracted. Is the issue of my feelings so easily forgotten? Maybe she will not force me to find a new residence. If she's going to, though, I don't want to put I off. "What were you saying?"

She blinks. "Huh?" Then it seems to hit her, and she goes red again, dropping her gaze to her lap. "Never mind," She says in a high voice, "I- um- I'll tell you later!"

I regard her closely. Was I wrong? She wouldn't put this off. It could be something else. Either way, I do not wish to press her for information. If she is willing to put it off, then I should go along with it. "Very well, woman." But then, if she is putting it off because it is a serious matter, I may reconsider. "Whatever it is, you may tell me when you feel comfortable. I will listen without prejudice."

She lets out a small sigh. When she speaks, she sounds strangled, like she can barely make the words out. "Thank you, Ulquiorra."

Love is not meant to be this hard.