• She felt the cold surface of her prison wall press against her back. It crept in through the threads of her starch white dress, which suddenly felt too thin. He was towering over her, his toned chest lightly pressing against her own ample bosom. Her breathing had come to an abrupt stop; it mangled with her beating drum of a heart and became lodged there, threatening to burst like a balloon. It was difficult to look directly into his beautiful emerald eyes but she found it impossible to tear her own grey orbs away.

    His head was tilted, lips parted ever so slightly; it felt warm, the breath that washed over her. Her stomach was bubbling with butterflies; all the while, he was watching her reactions. Ulquiorra had his hands placed flat against the wall on either side of her bright orange head; his eyes bore into hers, his face unreadable. She was trembling beneath him, and breathing so fast; he found an almost animalistic pleasure in knowing he could make her react that way. Her cheeks were flushed in a delicious shade of strawberry that made his body tense…

    The Espada and his 'pet', as Orihime had been dubbed, had been sitting on the floor together. He had been reluctant at the request; it was not in his nature to partake in such pointless actions. But she had gazed at him with those wide, expressive eyes of hers.

    "Let's watch the clouds together! It'll be fun!"

    She had promised, her usual goofy smile plastered to her lips. Taking the look on his face for a yes, she plopped down in front of the narrow window, her sole source of the outside world. She looked up at him expectantly, her lips curling into a happy grin at the sound of him sighing. He walked towards her in just a few strides and slowly lowered himself beside her.

    "This is ridiculous,"

    He told her. His negative-Nancy attitude wasn't about to bring her down; Orihime reminisced the many afternoon strolls to the park where she had done this very same act, sometimes with Tatsuki, but more often alone. She loved gazing up at the sky; it was an endless sea of color. In detail she named her favorites, her eyes closing as she named the purples, the pinks, even the darkest blacks. His eyes flickered in her direction, confusion lurking in their green depths.

    "You are incorrect, woman,"

    Ulquiorra stated matter-of-factly. Her memories interrupted, Orihime opened her eyes, her head cocked. He met her gaze evenly, always certain that he was right.

    "You are describing the color black the same as the others. Black is not a beautiful color therefore it does not belong in your story,"

    He felt her shoulder brush against his as she turned to face him directly, her eyes still shinning. Why did she still look happy; he had just pointed out the flaws in her philosophy. Yet she didn't seem fazed by his words one bit.

    "I disagree. Black may not be the brightest of colors, but it certainly belongs with the rest. Black is its own shade, with its own distinct style and personality. Without it, the world wouldn't be complete. It's necessary, and it's also beautiful in its own unique way,"

    Orihime's fingers hesitated for just a moment before inching over and resting on top of his.

    "Just like you, Ulquiorra,"

    His eyes widened for the briefest of moments in astonishment. He was unsure of how to reply to that; she chuckled at his reaction and turned back towards the moon, its glow basking her in pale light. Her hair cascaded down her back; several inches of the flaming locks sprawled around her on the floor. A few strands fell around their hands, which were still touching. He adverted his eyes, suddenly finding it difficult to gaze upon her. Thankfully Aizen had called all the Espada for a brief meeting and he was spared the painful act of holding her hand any longer.

    His pale index finger moved to slowly stroke the curve of her reddened cheek. He was acting more or less on instinct now; he didn't know how to do these… these humanly gestures. The fact he was even attempting almost sickened him, but at the same time, it was worth watching the girl shiver beneath his touch. She leaned her cheek into his palm, her eyes closing tight.

    "Look at me, woman,"

    Ulquiorra requested breathlessly, his tone more gentle than she had ever heard it before. She obliged; when her grey eyes opened, she realized he had moved even closer yet. Their lips were closer than the Espada's loyalty to Aizen. Orihime raised her hand; it quavered violently with nerves as her fingers cautiously touched his ebony locks. When he didn't command her to stop, she grew more confident, loving the silky touch of his hair slinking between her fingers. He could feel her chest rising and falling under his pecks, could imagine the wild thumping of her heart. Her heart, he noted with a hint of uncertainty, was what had caused all this.

    Orihime was leaning against the window pane now, her cheeks resting on her hands as she stared out into the desert. She was absorbed in her own little world, lost in thoughts that traveled nowhere in particular. She didn't hear the footsteps behind her; when she felt the hand on her shoulder, she let out a shriek and jumped. Spinning around, she found herself face to face with her Espada captor, who looked back at her questioningly.

    "U-Ulquiorra! I didn't know you were coming; you gave me a heart attack!"

    Orihime laughed nervously, her hand touching the spot on her chest that was beating rapidly with shock. He made a scornful sound and shook his head. She braced herself; he was going to scold her for something or other. They had been in Las Noches long enough for her to recognize some of his distinct habits.

    "Woman, I made no move to attack your heart,"

    He raised an eyebrow at her. Orihime shook her head, quickly explaining that it was an expression, nothing more.

    "You toss that word around so casually,"

    Ulquiorra scoffed; he didn't need to say it, they both knew what he was referring to.

    "I guess it is kind of silly to use it that way. But, you know how I feel about it; the heart is a magical thing. Without it, I wouldn't be able to feel the bonds I share with my friends. Ichigo, Rukia, Chad, Uryu, Rangiku… and you too Ulquiorra!"

    Orihime blushed and looked down at her hands, unable to meet his puzzled eyes.

    "Do not lie to me, woman. I do not desire your bothersome human connections. Friendship is a concept that you claim is connected to the hearts you humans rave about so freely. I do not believe in what my eyes cannot see, and they have never once gazed upon your heart,"

    Ulquiorra said, his voice oozing contempt. How dare she try to bring him down to such a human level. She was merely a prisoner, and he her captor; nothing more or less. He didn't believe in the mumbo jumbo she called her heart; it was an eternal organ necessary for survival. It held no surreal purpose; his carefully composed calmness always failed him when the girl brought up that ridiculous concept. He hated that.

    "I'm not lying! You are a precious person to me, whether you realize it or not. My heart is as real as I am; it's a vault filled to the brim with the greatest treasures life can offer. I live a happy life; no matter how great the distance, my friends are always with me. I'm lucky to have ever met them, and I will treasure the memories they have given me forever. Ulquiorra, you too have given me memories,"

    Orihime blushed darker as she leaned against the wall, smiling up at the Cuatro Espada.

    "My heart is happy here, with you,"

    Ulquiorra's eyes flashed; he couldn't bear to hear her speak of these emotions. He couldn't fathom them, because they didn't exist. It frustrated him; if they weren't real, then why did her words impact him like this? Why couldn't he brush them off as foolish nonsense like he had before that woman had come to be in his care?

    "I am no fool! Even if this 'heart' existed, it would be nothing more than a burden. I do not make your heart happy, woman. You claim not to fear me, yet you still flinch from my touch, and jump when I approach,"

    He almost sounded… hurt? Orihime covered her mouth with her hand. Had she insulted him by her reaction to his sneaking up behind her? That hadn't been her intention! Guilt tickled her stomach; without thinking, she blurted out

    "I wouldn't flinch if you touched me now!"

    There was an awkward pause, in which her face flamed even redder. Why did she go and say something like that?! Ulquiorra's eyes looked her over, as if debating on the truth to her statement. He moved closer to her, closer than he had ever been to her fragile form…

    "Shall we test that theory?"

    Her whole body was tingling; it was so alien, having another body press against her like this. But she couldn't resist it; his hand had inched down to her throat, and though he made no move to squeeze it, her breathing became even more ragged.

    "What is going through your mind?"

    He muttered, a slight purr in his voice as her fingers knotted in his hair. She seemed unable to answer him; her lips parted but no sound escaped their sanctity. There was a sinking feeling in his chest; some of the amusement was slipping away. He wanted to hear her sweet voice say his name, over and over and over again; whatever he was doing to her right now, he wasn't sure he liked it.

    "Perhaps you are not afraid of me after all,"

    Ulquiorra said curtly, dropping his hand from her throat. There was silence as Orihime's brain hazily understood what he said. Her skin felt cold where his warm hand had touched, her heart ached to feel him slowly stepping away from her. Her hand shot out, to beg him not to leave her; she accidentally had it aimed for his Hollow hole. In the blink of an eye he had a hold of her wrist, preventing her from touching the place where a heart should be. The grab was not harsh, but firm enough that Orihime got the message.

    "U-Ulquiorra… please… stay,"

    She whispered. His emerald orbs flickered towards hers, unsure of the situation. Part of him wanted to leave this room, abandon the woman and the crazy things she made him do. He had changed because of her, and wasn't sure he liked who he had become. Then again, when she stuttered his name… he was finding it hard not to throw her against the wall and make her repeat it.

    "Suppose I had a heart, woman,"

    Ulquiorra stayed where he was, making no move closer or father from her. He was fighting to keep his mask in place; he couldn't let her disrupt his façade of apathy, one he had perfected over his long lifespan.

    "Even if I did, it would be a black, vile thing. You would turn from it and search for one to match your own. Say, the 'heart' of Kurosaki Ichigo,"

    With this, his voice hinted jealousy, though he was reluctant to admit it. What were they doing? He knew of her feelings for Kurosaki; it was obvious in the way she said his name. Always, it was tinged with an admiration that was absent when she spoke of anyone else. Nothing he could offer her would ever compete with that incompetent fool of a human boy. Orihime felt her cheeks flush deeper at the sound of the substitute shinigami's name. She had confessed her love to his sleeping form before coming to the land of night, but during her stay… Ichigo hadn't crossed her mind. If anything, she thought of a certain white skinned Espada…

    "There is beauty in black, Ulquiorra. When I think of the color, I don't see shadows or death. I see the spots on the back of a puppy, or the star speckled night sky. I see… you,"

    Orihime eased her wrist out of his hand but latched onto his, gently pulling his hand until it brushed against the middle of her chest, where her own thumping heart lay.

    "You are in my heart, Ulqui-"

    "Stop. Do not say my name,"

    Ulquiorra tried to hide the emotion in his voice, the silent plea that yearned to be free. He wasn't sure what would happen if she continued tempting him like that, but it felt so strangely… right. The big bad fourth Espada was, dare he even think it, afraid to find out what was going on between them. Orihime sensed it, this unknown bubbling feeling. It thickened like blood between them, clawing at the surface, fighting to be released.

    "Ulquiorra,"

    Orihime whispered once more. She opened her mouth to repeat his name, which tasted like honey in her mouth, but was cut off by his lips pressing against hers. He had moved back to the spot, right up against her, this time no distance between them. She felt the shivers race down her spine in pure delight as he kissed her, hesitantly at first, but with more passion as his action became more certain. When they parted, Orihime gasped down air like a fish out of water.

    Neither said a word; there was no need for talk. All her suddenly blank mind could register was that his arms were around her, resting comfortably on her waist, and her head had found his chest as a pillow. It was there they stayed, in the blackness of her so called prison, each one absorbed in their own thoughts. Once again Ulquiorra had found the woman intriguing; she was so vastly different from her fellow trash. He couldn't make rhyme or reason of why she was such an exceptional being; was it truly because of the thing she called a heart? The enigma of it both attracted and repulsed him; he should have tossed her aside and washed his hand of this impossible nonsense. Instead, his arms flexed tighter around her.

    "Is this what you humans refer to when saying you are holding one's heart captive?"

    He mused out loud, earning a contented sigh from the girl he held so endearingly.