"...you can let go now, onna."
"H-huh?" Orihime immediately snatched her hand from his grasp. "Y-you're the one that reached for my hand. I was just playing along!" she pouted, her face tomato-red. Grimmjow made a whimpering noise within his carriage in response to Orihime's raised voice.
"Quit your overreacting, onna. You looked like you were going to faint."
Her expression softened and she sighed. "I'm just… in shock. It's taking me a bit to recover." She paused and then leaned forward, peering up at him through her long lashes and gave him a soft smile, "Thank you for that… by the way."
Her stoic roommate remained silent, his eyes forward and hands in his pockets as they continued towards their destination. She smiled to herself and looked forward as well. At this point, Orihime was used to Ulquiorra's apathetic nature, but she also felt his good intentions, so she never felt the need to press for anything more.
Ulquiorra wasn't sure which part of the interaction with the fruit-named man she was referring to that had her in such emotional turmoil. Despite Ichigo's insistence on his platonic friendship with the woman and no mention of their former engagement, Ulquiorra was certain that man was her previous lover. And judging by Orihime's reaction, it would also be safe to assume that she had not known his updated marital status. It could have been Ichigo's callousness, the news of him taking a new wife, or taking that wife relatively shortly after their separation that has upset the woman. Most likely, it was all of the above.
He didn't feel particularly compassionate about her situation, assuming that more than enough time had elapsed to get over some delinquent, but if he had an opinion on the man, he thought it was heartless of him to treat Orihime as if they had been friends and nothing more in the past. 'Ironic,' he sneered internally. Not that he had a history of treating women - or any being for that matter - any better. Aside from the bartender, Gin, Ulquiorra didn't comprehend the complexities that come with friendships.
A one-sided love … How foolish. Regardless, Ulquiorra accepted it was not his business to delve into it any further and proceeded to open the door to the small café so Orihime could push the stroller through.
After the hostess had shown them to their seats next to a window, Orihime placed Grimmjow's carriage to the side and fished the baby out. Nestling him in her arms while gently cooing at him, she poured out some warm milk from a thermos into a baby bottle she retrieved from her diaper bag and held it for the baby to drink from.
Ulquiorra found himself watching with quiet fascination at her movements. The substitute mother did it all so naturally and knowingly; her brown-gray eyes soft with unconditional endearment towards a tiny child that was not even hers. On the contrary, the act was all so foreign to him.
Seated across from Orihime, he turned his head to the side, intending to look out the window but his vision automatically chose to focus on the image reflected within the glass pane instead. In the shadow, the picture was crisp: a young man seated across from a smiling, young woman holding their child.
For just a breath of a moment, he saw a family. A family he was a part of.
This is what it would look like to have a family.
That quick realization left as quickly as it had arrived when he felt a twinge of something uncomfortable and unfamiliar within his hollow chest. It felt like longing; the kind of longing one would have after a happy dream that was quickly forgotten upon waking up.
It was painful.
It was unnecessary.
Anger was building up at the base of throat, choking him. He was angry this woman and that child were making him feel things he never had the intention to feel. Not now. Not ever.
Once again, Ulquiorra mentally discarded the unwelcome thoughts by emptying his mind - a practice he had mastered long ago. He switched his gaze to the menu before him as a means for a distraction. However, it didn't take him long to notice that the woman hadn't so much as glanced at the menu that was placed upside-down in front of her while Grimmjow occupied her attention.
"Do you know what you are ordering, onna?" Ulquiorra was only asking for the sake of efficiency and not out of curiosity. He would not be having the woman turn into a babbling mess, scrambling at the last minute when the waiting staff arrived. And though his job had no time restriction on lunch breaks, he would rather not spend an unnecessary amount of time anywhere else other than his home or in another woman's–
"Shh, shh…," Orihime was whispering calming noises to the baby, completely oblivious to the raven-haired man's question.
With a sigh, Ulquiorra flipped Orihime's menu into a position where she could read it, "Onna. Food."
"O-oh! Right! I'll just have what you have…," she muttered absent-mindedly.
After the server had arrived and taken their orders, Ulquiorra heard the young woman across the table sniffling quietly in her seat. Ulquiorra settled his viridian eyes on her. Not that he was concerned or anything, but rather, he was afraid the obvious noises of discontent she was making in public was about to escalate into an uncomfortable scene and naturally all blame would fall on him no matter the actual context. From past experiences, it began similarly to this: a girl crying in public followed by embarrassing tantrums when he struggled to empathize with them.
"Kurosaki Ichigo is no longer yours to shed tears over, onna."
"I-I know that…," she was sobbing freely now, "But my heart–"
"Nonsense." His tone was rigid, his viridian gaze hardened, "What would you have me say? 'Don't worry, I'm sure he still cares for you'? Ridiculous. I am not here to comfort you," he paused, his eyes never straying, "I don't understand you are so fixated on this love."
She responded with a rather large sniffle. Her eyes were downcast, avoiding his gaze. At first, she wanted to lecture him once more about 'love' and how it wasn't as simple as an on-off switch, but she decided to save it for later. Ulquiorra was right to question her undying love for Ichigo.
It had been a year. Regardless, if Ichigo was loyal to her during their time together or not, it was in the past. Still, the news of his marriage was overwhelming. Within a year, Ichigo had married Rukia. The timeline seemed so unnatural. Was he seeing the petite woman during their relationship? And now that Orihime was out of the picture, did Ichigo and Rukia's unrestrained relationship evolve to a stage in a single year that Orihime was never able to reach with him?
Her head felt light. She wanted to run. Or lay on the ground and never move.
With a deep exhale she said, "Ulquiorra, let's get drunk tonight…"
"What?" Ulquiorra's eyes widened at the request. The woman. Drunk? With him? He couldn't possibly imagine how that would not result in something he or she would later regret. The young, raven-haired man had all the self-discipline to hold his alcohol, but he was absolutely sure the woman in front of him would not be so well-behaved given the circumstances that had just transpired. It would be asking for drama. Drama he did not have the energy or time for.
They were also at a simple cafe. All they would serve here are wines at most. Hardly the appropriate place to get plastered.
"Excuse me!" Orihime tilted her head back and beckoned to the server for her to come over to their table. When she arrived, Orihime began to ask with enthusiasm even with a face wet with tears, "I'd like to get a bottle— "
"That won't be necessary." Ulquiorra waved the young waitress off dismissively. The server hesitated, her eyes shifting back and forth between the raven-haired man and the woman in front of him suspiciously but eventually left.
"Ulquiorra!" Orihime whined, tears comically streaming rivers from her eyes. She just wanted to forget about everything that just happened. Still sniffling, her amber eyes glistened with fresh tears as the recent conversation with Ichigo continually invaded her thoughts, stabbing her figurative heart over and over again. The word ' married' in her ex-fiancé's voice reverberated off the walls of her aching head. Married… Married… Married… Ichigo calling her a friend multiple times was also a part of the problem - his indifference and insensitivity towards their previous relationship had her breaking in two.
"Have you forgotten, woman? You have a baby and you're in public. People will get the wrong idea. Also, who will take care of the child while you are incapacitated? Certainly not me," Ulquiorra chastised.
"Okay, then can we go out later tonight? I'll call my coworker, Nel, to take care of Grimmjow," she pouted. Orihime just really wanted to get Ichigo out of her head. The implications that he might have been seeing another woman during their relationship had her mind reeling with obsessive anxiety. Within a year he already…already….al— She was going to bawl her eyes out.
"I have a better proposition for you," Ulquiorra retrieved a clean napkin from the metal dispenser on the table and handed it to her. Shifting Grimmjow to one arm, she took it, surprised at Ulquiorra's small act of kindness, "I will skip work for the rest of the day, and we can drink at home. Unless you don't like hard liquor. That is all I have."
Orihime looked at him, blinking the tears away and nodding fervently at his offer.
Her new roommate knew nothing of her ex-fiancé and yet she was reminded, yet again, of his cordiality towards her. Ulquiorra was a tactless and heartless landlord. He was a man of few words but whenever he spoke, he spoke with purpose and raw honesty. And though his offer was meant to prevent her from shattering into a public dilemma, she felt an undertone of comfort. Ulquiorra didn't need to spend the day with her, but he gave it to her willingly.
The young woman felt her heart refill with a drop of happiness from feeling she had possibly upgraded to being mutual friends with the stoic man.
With feeble fingers, the young woman began to dab the moisture away from her eyes. Ulquiorra watched her face bloom a shade of red on her tear-stained cheeks and small nose as she blew unceremoniously into the napkin. When Ulquiorra thought of showing her despair and the realities of life, he wasn't talking about this sobbing mess of a human. Crying over another man no less.
"I-I'm sorry. I probably look really pathetic to you," she let out a self-deprecating laugh and gave Ulquiorra a small smile, "But yeah, I'll take you up on that offer. Let's have fun! Just you, me, and little Grimmjow!"
"I assure you, my sense of 'fun' is nowhere near yours," he took a sip of his water. His green gaze slid over to the infant in her arms, "I don't plan on giving the infant any alcohol if that is what you're suggesting."
Orihime laughed boisterously at his attempt at humor, "No, no of course not!"
Ulquiorra blinked at her slowly. One moment the girl was crying excessively and now she was laughing. She was so easy to please. Women were strange, but this one was definitely a work of art.
Despite the tears, the woman was strong-willed. He would have to give her that. He sensed, behind the radiant smiles and quirkiness, he sensed an immense sadness that went beyond boy troubles. The previous day, he had witnessed the young woman set up a small shrine for a man within her bedroom and offer a silent prayer to his framed photograph on her knees, two blue hair pins within the clutches of her fingers.
And still, she had the capacity to love someone else's child and endure a heartless landlord.
"Oh, that's right," the girl perked up. Ulquiorra's attention was on his phone now, still submerged in his thoughts while aimlessly scrolling through Twitter, "I saw that you own a guitar. You play?"
The raven-haired man looked at her with a bored expression. He had no plans on getting to know the woman and vice versa. He originally planned to have a quick lunch and take the woman out of the house so she would quit her incessant chatter by quelling her boredom. Turns out it became more trouble than it was worth.
"You have some nerve to go snooping around my room, onna."
"Aww, just answer the question, Ulquiorra," she furrowed her eyebrows with a pout.
"Not much," he sighed, placing his phone down on the table. He glanced at her and then shifted his gaze to idle on something else in the restaurant, resting his chin on the back of his wrist while casually adding, "Just enough to get a woman in bed."
Orihime scrunched up her nose in disgust.
"I was going to ask if you could play for me-" she paused, "-without the consequences ," she said the last word like a little girl afraid of cooties.
"I could, but I can't guarantee you won't be in my bed five seconds after I play the first chord," a corner of his dark lips turned upwards in a mischievous smirk, his bold, viridian eyes now focused on her. Her eyes widened in surprise, face growing hotter by the second. She was instantly reminded of Ulquiorra's body on top of hers, albeit his expression at the time was much more devious than this boyish smile.
"Ah… never mind then… I'd rather not get raped," she mumbled sarcastically, averting her eyes to look out the window while she rocked Grimmjow.
Ulquiorra narrowed his eyes in annoyance at her comment, "I would never touch you like that. I was inferring that you would be begging for me ," he said dryly.
Her comment wounded his pride. Rape? He scoffed at the thought. He'd never go through such desperate means. That would imply that there were women he could not win over by conventional means and this woman was no exception.
"Hmm… That is definitely not the impression your previous actions gave me. You weren't going to stop. I saw that 'look' in your eyes…," she retorted with a smug expression, her fingers air-quoting.
"How absurd," the dark-haired man's gaze hardened, "Are you completely unaware of how many women I have wooed? I was merely assessing your self-restraint. I can't exactly have you living under my roof if you can't learn to keep your hands to yourself if I ever decide to take you for myself."
"I would never even think about it!" she scoffed and then averted her eyes once more in embarrassment.
"Besides, I've seen better," he replied, nonchalantly sipping his water, his eyes narrowing on her. It was a lie, but she didn't know that.
Orihime's mouth dropped in disbelief. She was insecure enough with her body, but wow! This guy was asking for it.
"Well... you're not so great looking yourself!" she defended, "I mean those eyebrows...!"
She imploded with silent victory as she saw a corner of Ulquiorra's dark lips twitch in annoyance. His gaze darkened, "Just you wait, onna."
He wasn't one to be childish with the insult game. He had his own ways of delivering punishments.
…
After Ulquiorra had paid for their meal, they continued their light-hearted banter on the way back home. Orihime was in a much better mood, having a full belly and mentally engaging discussions. The afternoon weather helped to lift her mood as sunset-colored leaves floated gently to the ground, the sunlight lukewarm on her skin and an autumn breeze to keep the makeshift family cool.
"I'm just saying, putting pickles in Dr. Pepper is a thing!" She flailed her arms.
"That hardly sounds appetizing."
Ulquiorra was pushing the stroller with a hardened expression. Upon leaving the restaurant, they agreed to play Rock, Paper, Scissors to determine who should push the stroller. He lost three out of three. But he was one to keep his promises. Grimmjow - thanks to the dependable substitute mother - was a very good infant who hardly made any noise when fed and well-rested.
The raven-haired man had been ruminating on a question since the woman had moved in.
"How did you know about my… hobbies?"
"Urahara-san," she shrugged, "He told me he recognized you from TV or something and he has a lot of connections around town. He's good friends with a bartender at a local bar so he's bound to hear some good gossip."
Gin Ichimaru.
Gin would be the only witness to his endeavors, so it made sense. It wasn't like he requested Gin to not share his private life because, frankly, he didn't care. Being the local womanizer hadn't affected the number of women who were readily available for his picking.
Once they returned home, Ulquiorra brought out his meager collection of alcohol, placing them gently on the coffee table in the living room while Orihime put the child to bed in his temporary crib and changed into a matching pajama set adorned with bunnies. Yammy took a liking to staying at the foot of the loveseat where Grimmjow slept.
Returning to the living room, the young woman took a seat next to Ulquiorra. Her brown eyes sparkled upon seeing the arrangement of drinks, happily humming to herself an indistinguishable song as she turned the various bottles around to read each of their labels, "We should play a drinking game!"
"You're not going to wallow in self-pity?"
He was a little disappointed that the day was turning out to be full of events. Not a moment with the woman was spent in peaceful silence. Long gone were the days of solitude and drama.
She playfully smacked him on the back, his eyes bugging out of his head from the impact, "You're funny!" Her sweet laughter filled his chest with wonder, "This is how I wallow in self-pity!"
And so, the drinking games commenced.
They decided to watch a shonen anime and take a shot whenever the female protagonist called out the male protagonist's name and vice versa with Orihime taking the position of the female lead. Eight episodes later, Ulquiorra had taken five shots while Orihime had seven.
Before they were aware of it, the afternoon had transitioned into the evening. Their marathon pausing only to pacify Grimmjow's hungry cries and allow time to prepare enough snacks to feed a bear into hibernation - mostly for Orihime.
"Hmm, this turned out to be unfair. Does the guy even like her? The girl calls out his name way too much!" she hiccupped, having downed another shot and chasing it with salsa-and-yogurt-coated popcorn.
Ulquiorra's head was beginning to spin. Being of a smaller and leaner stature, he was nearing his black-out limit. He was surprised the small woman could make out words or sit upright after eight shots.
Another episode played and the two roommates were able to recover slightly since the main protagonists did not have any scenes together. They sat in silence, savoring the gentle buzz in their heads, vacant eyes mindlessly consuming the image on the television screen in mutual quietude.
After a while, Orihime decided to break the ice now that she had sobered up enough to relapse into her depressive musings.
"You know…," Orihime murmured, bringing her knees up to her chin and wrapping her arms around them while her eyes remained unfocused towards the screen, "I was in love with him since I was 14 years old."
Ulquiorra remained impassive. His attention was still somewhat divided between holding himself together after all the alcohol, watching the show, and the woman who decided to bring up a conversation he didn't care to have. Though he supposed it would take no effort to lend her an ear. Besides, he was a little too intoxicated to remove himself from the room.
"But when we turned 15, a girl transferred to our school… Rukia-chan," she smiled softly, "Nice girl. She's so cute and petite and yet spunky and strong… I admire her a lot. She connected with Kurosaki-kun much better than I could have ever done. I always felt like Kurosaki-kun walked on eggshells around me because when it came to Rukia-chan, he would be so hot-headed, loud, and animated. Like a different person. Maybe that doesn't sound good, but he looked alive. It made me feel… lonely. And jealous. And mad at myself for being jealous."
Ulquiorra recalled Ichigo muttering that Rukia was not a rebound. The implication behind that comment was that Ichigo had been in love with Rukia for a long time. And with the woman informing him that their friendship spanned across a number of years, it would not be unbelievable.
"I was so happy when he finally asked me out in college," she continued, "but I wonder if he only did that because Rukia-chan started dating Abarai-san at that time. I always had that doubt in the back of my mind, but I wanted to be optimistic. I didn't want to ever doubt Kurosaki-kun's intentions. He was my hero in every way. Kurosaki-kun is intelligent, strong, and passionately loyal to his friends. And when my brother, Sora-nii, passed away when I was 12, I had made the decision to cherish my loved ones no matter what. Every moment spent with my friends was precious. Even now, I can't bring myself to hate Kurosaki-kun."
Ulquiorra's interest piqued at the mention of her brother's death. The man in the photograph.
So that is why she is the way she is.
Always smiling through the tears yet the shadow that stalked her seemed so dark and heavy. When she thought no one was looking, her expressions were somber. Almost tired. But Ulquiorra was always watching when he was around. He felt he wanted to strangle the invisible, haunting presence that threatened to snuff out her flames. The recent reminder of her failed engagement with Ichigo would only serve to engorge the depressive presence.
Anger welled up from within him. Anger towards the orange-haired delinquent, the brother that left his sister alone, and Orihime for cohabitating with her sorrow for far longer than it was necessary.
Did the woman really believe that smiles and laughter were the cure-all? Intentionally blinding herself with the image of her friends and her love, the heart and whatever nonsense she has to tell herself?
It was frustrating to witness such idiocy. He felt a strong desire for her to bare herself to the misery and agony that she had turned her cheek from. To take accountabilities for all her emotions.
And yet he felt a pang of protectiveness, confusing him. The comedic tears she shed at the cafe did not affect him in the slightest but the ones that glistened within her brown gaze now and were too stubborn to fall, were somehow different. That expression was something he decided he would prefer to never see. He had never felt such empathetic sensations. Anger? Protectiveness?
Dismissively, he blamed it on the alcohol.
Just then, the main female lead character on the screen was heard screaming the name of the male lead for help and Ulquiorra poured her another shot which she eagerly downed. Though she was more sober than she was a few hours ago, she was still relatively drunk, having successfully managed a buzz for an extended period of time. However, taking another shot in the midst of recovering only exacerbated the effects and, on top of that, she hadn't been drinking nearly as much water as she should have, especially after all the crying she did that day.
"Urgh…," Orihime hiccupped loudly, "I don't feel so good."
Ulquiorra's inebriated gaze slid to the woman beside him, "It is a shitty anime." She nodded lazily in agreement.
"Lemme go check on Grimmy," she drawled. The woman barely got up from the couch before she began to fall backwards, "Uh o–"
Orihime had lost her footing, falling back onto Ulquiorra, her ass planting firmly atop his groin. Ulquiorra grunted as the air was abruptly knocked out of his lungs.
"Woman, you're heavy."
She only laughed in response because the room was spinning at an unrealistic speed and direction.
He nudged at her to get up, noting that her weight was forcing his body to react in a way that she would not appreciate and would surely make a fuss about.
"Ah! Sorry!" she exclaimed, laughing uncontrollably all the while as one does when inebriated, but due to the state she was in, she was struggling to actually get up. Her vision was blurred and moving too fast for her comprehension and Ulquiorra's suddenly overwhelming and intoxicating masculine pheromones were causing a sensory overload. Unbeknownst to her, her clumsy movements were not far off from a bouncing motion on his lap and Ulquiorra grimaced, desperate to keep his control.
On impulse, he grabbed her waist with both of his hands, intending to halt her movements or perhaps even throw her across the room to get her off his lap but his fingers unintentionally grazed a sensitive spot on her abdomen, sending an electrifying current up Orihime's spine, causing her to hunch over in another laughing fit.
"Oh my– that tickles!"
"Onn– stop–"
She giggled, her laughter causing her plump breasts to brush against his knuckles. Now deciding to unceremoniously throw her off, Ulquiorra squeezed harder to lift her up, but Orihime reacted by arching her back from him, still lost in her hysterics, pressing deeper into his lap. Ulquiorra immediately felt her moist warmth around his groin, and he buckled under the sheer blissful strain of her grinding; his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he felt his spirit leave his limp body. He gave up.
"Ulquiorra, are you okay?!" she gasped, sensing the male beneath her suddenly deflate.
Still struggling to get up in her drunken stupor, Orihime managed to reach behind her, and grab hold of something firm for leverage while she pushed herself up. For a moment she hesitated, failing to ignore how enjoyably soft, yet firm the object was.
She was about to turn around once more to investigate with morbid, drunken curiosity what exactly she was gripping when suddenly she was propelled forward and onto the coffee table, sending half-emptied bottles of liquor and shot glasses careening to the floor, causing her to instinctively throw her hand out on the hard surface to brace herself from hitting it face-first. With her back arched into the table and breasts pressed up against it, her ass was angled up and nestled right against Ulquiorra's crotch where he stood behind her.
His expression was dark and simmering with frosty rage.
She gasped in surprise, light brown eyes wide with shock and cheeks flushed red. Ulquiorra bent over her, folding her free arm behind her back while his other hand slammed onto the table beside her head. His grip on her wrist wasn't tight but it was the sheer shock of the situation that had her subdued. His nostrils flared in calm anger, and she could feel his warm breath tickle the nape of her exposed neck where her auburn hair had fallen over her shoulder.
"Woman," flaming, green eyes bore into hers, hissing through gritted teeth, "do you want me to take you here and now?"
Ulquiorra was never one to go far with alcohol, but he found himself enjoying the drinking game and though he did not take as many shots as the woman, he was still mildly affected by the toxic substance. He was, in essence, finding difficulty controlling his emotions and impulses. The woman now bent over before him was beginning to look like a five-course meal for a starved man and he felt the overwhelming urge to fill the endless abyss inside him by fucking her. Fuck the deal.
"Or must I remind you who you are residing with?" to add emphasis, he rolled his hips against her, pushing into her ass.
He nearly lost it when she let out a whimper, all too aware of the heat radiating off his body and of something hot and hard pressing against her rear, reminding Orihime all too well of her roommate's masculinity and his hunger.
Of course. How could she forget? Let alone put herself in such a dangerous situation with a dangerous man. She was basically drinking with a stranger. A stranger she knew had a sex addiction. In that stranger's home. Alone. But it was too late. She was incapable of making wise decisions and the alcohol only fueled her confidence.
"You wouldn't," she stated fiercely, her eyes, shining bright with confidence, locked onto his, "In fact, earlier you said I would be the one begging for you."
"You're afraid," He whispered lowly into her ear, mentally struggling to refrain from grinding into her again and forcing her into further submission. His breath caressed her ear, instantly conjuring goosebumps at the base of her neck. She shivered.
"No," she replied calmly, "I'm not."
Forest green eyes bore into her caramel-brown gaze. She didn't falter.
"Why?"
"I know you wouldn't hurt me, Ulquiorra."
"What if the circumstances were to change? I am curious–," in one slow, fluid motion, he released her wrist and skimmed a finger down her spine, pausing right at her tailbone, causing waves of electricity to spread from his touch to her lower abdomen, "–to know how much you are willing to take?"
He continued sliding his finger up the round of her rear, following the curve down to the sensitive flesh between her thighs and stilled. When the woman beneath him squeezed her eyes shut with a shudder and let out another strangled whimper, he felt a surge of pride knowing she wasn't entirely immune to his charm.
"How far can I push you until you break?"
"U-Ulqui–"
Pressing a finger against her bunny pajama-clad entrance caused her to jolt in shock at the sensation. She jerked back slightly with a quiet yelp, molding her body flush against his. He restrained a groan within his throat in response to her body heat.
"Is this not what you want, onna ?" he whispered huskily into her ear, tension building in his lower abdomen urging him to continue, "Or do you really believe you're invincible? To tempt a demon like me with the promises of salvatio— "
And suddenly, Ulquiorra was roughly thrown back, his ass landing back down on the couch
Startled green eyes stared in shock at nothing in particular while Orihime dashed to the restroom in time to hurl into the toilet.
…
Orihime found herself sprawled on the guest bathroom floor. Her head was pounding but she felt immense relief after vomiting a good amount. Upon regaining consciousness, she immediately remembered she needed to check on Grimmjow. Groggily, she wiped the spittle from her lips and shakily stood up to wash her face and rinse her mouth.
From the bathroom where the door was still wide open, she could see that Ulquiorra had fallen asleep sitting upright on the couch with his head slightly tilted to the side and his hands in his pockets. She sauntered over, grabbing a throw blanket on the way, and draped it over him. He shifted slightly in his sleep but didn't wake; his lips were parted, and she could smell the sweet aroma of the alcohol with each exhale.
She couldn't prevent her thoughts from drifting while she admired the ebony lashes that feathered atop his alabaster cheeks.
He always looked so sad. Even now as she watched the even rise and fall of his chest, Ulquiorra's slumbering form was still a somber sight. He was lacking something, unconsciously forcing him to set on an endless conquest to find it. She felt as if she was peering at a black hole that seemed so distant, vast and endless, and she was at the cusp of his event horizon, feeling the natural pull of his gravity. She was drawn to him; the empty vacuum of his soul threatening to devour her light.
But she held fast. Still, she felt the effects of his melancholy radiating from every move he made and every word he spoke. And within his predatory, verdant green eyes were a void so unsettling, it would cause most humans to look away in fear.
He must have been so lonely, she thought. Why was he the way he is? How did it feel to him? To have slept with so many women… There must be a reason why he felt the need to entertain such primal desires. What happened to him?
Is he searching for something?
Orihime felt an overwhelming sadness overcome her. She wanted to help him find it - whatever he was looking for. If only she could convince him that sex couldn't possibly be the answer.
The answer was the heart. She could feel it.
The young woman could feel her own aching within her chest, feeling as though it was harmonizing with each of his shallow breaths. Each dull throb felt like a plea for permission to leap out her throat and into her hands and then be offered to the man who sat before her, missing one of his own.
She couldn't remove her eyes from him, unabashedly staring in awe at the man before her. His black hair partially covered his eyes, so she brushed it aside, careful to not graze his skin with her fingertips.
Ulquiorra was handsome. Orihime knew that from the moment she saw him, and she had no doubts that he had the ability to seduce women to puddles at his feet. She wavered for a second and wondered if she could be one of them. She shook her head vigorously at the thought. Her heart had been with Ichigo for so long, she couldn't imagine dedicating her life to anyone else.
All of a sudden, her vision was filled with emerald green.
"Ah! You surprised me!" She pulls her hand back, blushing from being caught, "I was surprised you could fall asleep sitting up after all that alcohol."
He stared back at her with slightly wide eyes, having been startled awake by her proximity. He said nothing as she awkwardly giggled to herself.
"You're in my bed, you know. I mean it's fine if you want to sleep here but I then would have to sleep on the– ah!"
Ulquiorra had abruptly grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him. She fell forward without grace right into his lap, her head resting on his shoulder and her legs straddling his sides, "U-Ulquiorra?" she stammered, her heart beating out of her chest.
"Stay… here."
Her caramel eyes grew wide as saucers, staring at the ebony that was his shirt, "Sorry?"
"Stay here."
Her breath hitched in her throat as her male roommate wrapped his arms around her waist and exhaled slowly. His intoxicating mint and lemon scent mixed with alcohol wafted towards her and she melted in his arms, savoring his warmth.
"Ulquiorra is the needy type of drunk, h-huh?" her nervous laugh muffled by the fabric of his shirt.
She felt his hand snake up her spine and rest on the small of her back, leaving a trail of tingling goosebumps in his wake. He held her tighter until she felt she couldn't breathe – either from her heart giving out from overexertion or his embrace…
And then he plopped her down on the couch right where he was just sitting.
She blinked at the ceiling.
"Stay there and sleep, onna."
Orihime stiffly turned her head to the side to look where Ulquiorra stood with his back towards her, "T-thanks…" her voice trailed off as she watched him walk towards the kitchen. She was so glad he didn't turn to see how red with embarrassment her face must be. She almost felt feverish after what just happened.
It was weird, flirty… and it got her hot and bothered.
Oh.
Orihime realized he had just shown her exactly what she had unknowingly done to him before leaving him high and dry to vomit in the toilet.
After recollecting herself and making sure Grimmjow remained content in his sleep, she sank into the depths of her blanket and squeezed her eyes shut, still flustered from embarrassment.
If only the young woman had eyes that could see everything, she would have seen the smug expression on Ulquiorra's face.
…
Ulquiorra jolted upright, adrenaline coursed through his heart and pounded painfully within his chest.
In his drunken state, he had passed out on top of the kitchen table like an idiot.
And holy shit did his head hurt.
With a pained groan, he slid off the table, reached for a bottle of water from the refrigerator and downed it, using the last bit of water to pour it over his aching head. It wasn't quite a hangover so much as it was accidentally falling asleep while drunk and waking up shortly after twice in a short amount of time.
He was already dreading the impending earful he'll be receiving from that bastard of an agent for skipping out on work that day. The nagging would surely escalate to an unbearable level if he showed up to work the next day looking less than impeccable.
Eventually, the last moments he spent with his female roommate rebounded to the forefront of his mental focus.
It was a lapse in fortitude. When drunk, Ulquiorra tended to be… touchy. It was a skill he honed over the years to get women to succumb to him. And he just practiced it on his roommate whom he shared only a platonic relationship with at best… Albeit as a petty way to return the favor for her blatant obliviousness to how she affects him emotionally and physically. And for her earlier jest about his eyebrows.
He peeked out of the kitchen doorway and peered into the living room. The woman was fast asleep; only the crown of her cinnamon-colored hair could be seen above the blanket which rose and fell with each quiet breath.
Out of curiosity, he quietly padded over to the loveseat where the child lay.
He noted that the bright aquamarine eyes staring quietly back at him had a distinctive and familiar, slitted shape to them, but he couldn't quite put his finger on whose they would belong to. He offered a finger to the baby to which Grimmjow happily grabbed and toyed with. The baby had no awareness of emotions like despair and love nor had to deal with the complications that accompanied them. His mind was truly empty.
"Lucky bastard," he muttered.
Or perhaps not. The infant was abandoned by his mother after all.
Then again, in her place, the blue-haired baby seemed to have received the most wonderful and beautiful substitute mother instead.
Ulquiorra playfully ruffled the little boy's hair, causing the infant to scowl and whine loudly in protest. He froze, glancing over at the other couch where the woman lay.
Orihime turned to her other side, unconsciously mumbling unintelligible words of various languages like 'reiatsu' and 'murcielago' in her sleep. He sighed, his glorified image of her ruined as he watched her drool seep out of her mouth and onto his throw pillows.
He stepped towards her, pulling the blanket that had shifted when she turned to cover her shoulders.
The woman gives and gives and gives. When will it be her turn to achieve happiness? Should he drag her down to the depths of nothingness to show her the happiness it can provide? To never have to bow to emotional limitations like fear and love?
No. Despite how she may think of herself, Orihime Inoue deserved so much more. Instead of emptiness, a life of fulfillment. She deserved to be loved as much as she loved. The thought left a sour taste on his tongue, unable to perceive what that would entail. In any case, he was beginning to understand that he did not belong in her world.
If there was one thing he was sure of, he could never be the hero in her story.