Orihime palmed the flimsy lace material uncertainly.
These were her favorite. The only matching pair of bra and panties she owned. The lace was pink and translucent. Sometimes, Orihime would wear the set beneath her clothing when seeing Ichigo. She wasn't sure why exactly. Ichigo was careful with her, sweet. Instead of taking anything off he would pay reverent attention to the skin that was readily accessible. A hand tracing her upper thigh beneath her skirt, lips crawling down her throat and collarbone, kisses dipping between her undone top buttons where a swell of cleavage could be found.
Will he expect a matching set, the first time? She wondered. Will he be disappointed when he sees the rest of my collection? Orihime frowned and gave a cursory glance at the remaining contents of her underwear drawer. He definitely shouldn't see my hello kitty boy shorts, or the fraying cotton panties I grab when it's almost laundry day…
For a full day after they made plans, Orihime had felt nothing but uncomplicated excitement to have Ichigo over. Then, slowly, the anxiety had sunk in. It seemed clear where their momentum was taking them. And she wanted him. She wanted him so much. But Orihime had no idea how to do this. He would be sleeping over tonight. In her room. In her bed. Long stretches of uninterrupted hours.
Uninterrupted hours were difficult to come by these days. Though Orihime couldn't complain. She adored her newfound access to his house, his family. It felt silly but Karin and Yuzu had immediately begun to feel like friends. They responded to her hyperactive energy with their own. With only an older brother for guidance, the girls seemed to relish in conspiratorial discussions with her.
"I got moved to our top soccer division this year." Karin had told her last night, clearly trying to hide how proud she was of this fact. "It's mostly boys – all boys actually – besides me. Are boys always so obnoxious in groups?"
This had made Orihime chuckle. "Some of them, yes."
"Is Ichigo obnoxious?" Yuzu had piped up. "At school?"
This question made them all glance in unison to the dining room, where the sisters had banished Ichigo upon Orihime's arrival. Perceptive as always, their gaze made him look up from his textbook and frown.
"What?" He'd asked, and the girls burst into laughter. Orihime could only smile and shrug in response to his quizzical expression.
Later, when the girls trudged off to bed, Orihime watched Ichigo get up and stretch. She wondered what it would feel like to be so tall, fingertips almost grazing the light fixture above him. He looked almost painfully good. Uncharacteristically at ease in baggy gray sweats. Ridiculously, Orihime felt her stomach tighten at the sight. His skin – she knew – would be warm and slightly rough beneath the material. He would smell like clean cotton and shaving soap.
Her suspicions were confirmed moments later when she found herself splayed beneath him on the couch. Yes, warm and rough. How intoxicating. To be held within all his strength and power. To feel him bend – regardless – to her every request. She wanted to dive headfirst into the feeling, live within it. But the proximity of his sisters ensured a level of restraint.
Restraint was the word that hummed between them when they touched. Sometimes, Orihime could almost feel the hesitation in him when he grazed her skin, palmed her hips. It seemed that he was trying to never again allow his control to slip. The way it had on that strange, surreal night when he had shown up to her house, scarred and bruised and ravenous for her like she had never seen.
Orihime felt the buzz of her phone against her thigh. She tossed her garments back in the drawer and checked the text.
Ichigo: Won't be at school today
A few moments passed before another message lit up the screen.
Ichigo: It's stupid, I miss you.
And another.
Ichigo: Stupid because I saw you last night I mean.
Ichigo: Obviously you are a very missable person
Ichigo: Shit. I'm going to shut up now. See you tonight yeah?
Orihime smiled, barely resisting the urge to press the phone against her chest. She didn't know what Ichigo would spend the day doing. She didn't know if he would get hurt, or if he would return to her with an unnamed weight on his shoulders. But she knew that he kept his word. Tonight, he would be with her. It would be cold outside, and she would make soup with lots of ginger and garlic, dumplings filled with spiced pork and vegetables. Piping hot tea. Cakes with clementines and rosewater. Tonight, she would wear pretty underwear beneath her sensible clothes. And perhaps – if he wanted – Ichigo would see them.
She typed out a response
Orihime: Yes! Tonight. Can't wait.
And, unable to help herself, she added
Orihime: Be safe today, ok?