I can't look at him. He must hate me. His hands recoil from my thighs. I can hear his footsteps against the wooden floorboards as he walks away.
I am alone.
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Running Scared
Chapter 8
ULQUIORRA
Thursday, 23:09pm
Huaco Mundo Apartments, Sereitei
Penthouse Suite A
I have always had my own suspicions that Aizen was somehow involved in the disappearance of my Hime from my life. I however did not envision that the reason for which she left was because she had aborted our child.
How could she do that to us, to me? I would have taken care of them. Neither of us had ever had the pleasure of being a part of a functional and loving family… We could have had that together. Sliding my hand through my hair in complete and utter anguish, a silent scream escapes my lips. This is not a road I wish to travel down, the road of what could have been.
My thoughts are in disarray, what ifs are a great many and thoughts of being torn asunder from the inside out bubble to the forefront of my mind. I do not wish to feel such things. I do not wish to feel anything. Perhaps it would have been better if she had kept this to herself; taken this secret to her very grave. Hanging my head in my hands, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. Ulqiorra – you must calm yourself.
Deciding that I can no longer hide from her in the dark confines of my master suite, I push myself from my sitting position at the foot of my bed and make my way back towards the living room…back towards her. The sound of my uncharacteristically heavy footsteps echo, reminding me that I have yet to remove my Vans from my feet. So much for decorum and indoor-etiquette when an atomic bomb has indeed been detonated upon my very existence.
Should I even question her at this point? Is there anything to be salvaged – perhaps we are toxic to one another. Such lies, such hurt… Perhaps it was wrong of me to be drawn in once more by her siren song…
"What else has she been hiding from me," I demand aloud, my voice reverberating quite severely throughout my Penthouse suite. The tension emanating from my very skin is palpable. I want to break every breakable object in my presence. I want to break her for keeping such a secret from me for seven long and lonely years. My thoughts are conflicting.
She is still in a crumpled heap on my couch. She is sleeping, her eyes are closed. Her face is puffy and her eyelids are swollen – there are tear tracks littered down her cheeks. Her whole body is trembling violently, even in slumber. Something gentle lurks behind my inner turmoil – I do not wish for her to be upset to such an extent, but I cannot help but be angry at her for keeping this from me for seven years. Seven years. After all that we had been through since our very first meeting some sixteen, no nearly seventeen years ago… I am at a complete loss as to why she would do this.
I know what she went through at the hands of others. I know that she has not had the most fortunate of beginnings. But then again, neither have I.
All I can do is watch her. I remain silent and as still as a statue as I notice her body tremble. It hurts. Everything hurts. Not wanting to admit such utter human weakness, I turn towards the kitchen, my thirst for a scotch overpowering any further embarrassingly weak thoughts and emotions.
As I pour the finely aged dark liquid into an insanely expensive glass, the anger again bubbles to the surface. Such behaviour is completely out of character, all of these feelings ready to erupt must dissipate and quickly, for they are not welcome. It goes down a treat. I need another. Another turns into six and I find myself sufficiently drunk in the space of ten minutes. This will not do at all.
The anger has finally arrived with the downing of my eighth scotch. I slam the glass down on the kitchen counter, it shatters into pieces and sharp shards scatter across the tiled floor. There are cuts along my left palm from the impact and the shattered shards of glass. Blood pools and drips to the kitchen counter. I do not care. Physical pain is irrelevant at this particular juncture.
Determined to know more I hastily loom over her, the housekeeper shall see to the broken glass tomorrow. My movements are not as steady as I would prefer, but that is neither here nor there. The only light is that of the skyline through the floor to ceiling window. The room is predominantly bathed in darkness, except for that soft glow behind me. I know my speech will be quite slurred, but I need answers. I need to know everything. She must awaken. She must tell me.
'Orihime, you will wake up,' I demand, voice a little slurred.
Nothing. The woman could sleep through World War II air raid. Ridiculous.
'Orihime, you will wake up,' I repeat, as I shake her shoulder, trying to coax her from slumber.
Aggravation at this whole fiasco causes me to grab both her shoulders and forcefully shake her. She must tell me everything. I must know it all.
'Ulqui-kun, what – what is it? Why are you shaking me?' she asks, voice scratchy from crying.
'You will tell me everything and you will tell me now,' I sternly say to her, my eyes pouring into her own.
'But I have told you – Aizen and Momo saw me at the clinic. That is everything,' is her weak protest, feigning ignorance.
Shaking my head at her ill-conceived lie, 'No. I know Aizen and I know you. There is much that you are not speaking. You will tell me, and you will tell me now.'
She starts crying and trembling again. I do not wish to offer her any comfort, so I wait and keep my expression harsh. Eventually the words will come.
'But I, h-he said that if I ever told you the t-truth, he would ruin y-your c-career.' Ah, that must have been the threat.
'I see. Such threats are of no concern to me.'
'B-b-but he said that he would r-ruin you and r-ruin G-Grimmy, N-noi-kun and St-Stark – all of you,' the tears strengthened and the trembling turned violent. Her body rocked back and forth from her position on the couch. I just waited, knowing that she would now tell me everything.
'He, he s-said that you wouldn't believe me over him! He said that his word meant more to you than mine, given that it was the beginning of all your success! He said that if I told you what we had lost, that it would all be over for you and Cuatro Espada. He said that you would never believe what had happened to me and that I should just disappear from your life entirely.' Her words were rushed, panic and hysteria clear in her face and very demeanour.
'And so I left. I left not to hurt your future,' the misery in her voice crystal clear. Yet something was niggling away at me – something did not seem right with her hysteric outburst.
'What exactly did you mean by "he said that you would never believe what had happened to me"?' I demanded. 'What exactly had we lost? There is something that you are still hiding from me. You will cease dancing around the issue at once!' I did not raise my voice to her, but my meaning was quite clear. The look in her eyes was one of sorrow, pain and anguish. Just what was the cause of such a pained expression?
Her eyes darted from left to right, she fidgeted with her the hem of her alarmingly short indigo dress. She was blatantly avoiding my demands. A spark of lust rose within me as her fidgeting caused the hem to rise higher. Now was not the time for such desires. I shook my head, banishing such lustful thoughts.
'Tell me, what it was that you meant,' I said as I pulled her chin in my direction, forcing her to look at me. I would not relent. She bit her lip, before taking deep breath, her eyes faltering under my intense gaze, yet she could not move her face from the strength of my grip.
'I was at the Clinic to get a scan – a, a check-up with the Doctor. I didn't know what had happened at first. I thought no one I knew would be there… That's why I went there. I didn't think that I could, even, after everything from before...' she trailed away.
'It died. It went away,' she whispered out. She reached out and removed my grip from her chin, before turning away from me and burying her face in the back of the couch.
'He said that you wouldn't believe me that it went away, that he would tell you I had gotten rid of it.' I could only just make out her muffled words between the gut-wrenching obs and her position against the couch. She continued as though the dam had finally burst, 'He said that he would make you believe it and if I didn't leave you he would ruin everything you and everyone had worked so hard for.'
'He said I was worth nothing and shouldn't drag you down with me, that you would abandon the tour to be with me and it would mean that Cuatro Espada would never realise their potential,' she continued to sob.
I again am at a loss. My thoughts and emotions were in chaos, although five facts stood out:
We had a child.
She did not abort our child, as I had first thought.
She miscarried.
She was threatened.
She left me.
Did she have so little faith in what we were to each other? Did she truly believe that the opinion of Aizen carried more weight than her very own? Was her opinion of me that low? Did my Hime know me at all?
Gathering control of my thoughts and emotions, I composed myself and my stoic mask slipped into place.
'I see,' and with that I left the room, my Suite, entered my pass-code into my private elevator's keypad before traveling down to the basement. I unlocked my BMW with the click of a button. I needed to escape. I left her crying in a heap on the couch of my living room with her memories.
I turn on the Bluetooth and let the lyrics, (uncannily suited to my current mood) take me away to another place where thoughts and feelings and memories faded into oblivion…
And if I sing along, a little fucking louder to a happy song, I'll be just fine.
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FLASHBACK
Sunday June 30 2005, 04:07am
Inoue Orihime, 18 years old
I stealthily crack one eye open, he is still next to me, laying on his back with one hand covering his eyes, the other, still wrapped around me, holding me so tightly. We are on his bed. I am nestled happily against his chest, my right cheek against him. I can't help but rub it against him, enjoying the silky softness of his firm skin.
Who knew that being naked with another person could feel so good? I didn't. I've never been one for intimacy; I never thought anyone would want me like that. I try not to think of the past, only the future. Now is not the time for crying Orihime, I scold myself. I don't need to remember those times when I am with him.
Ulquiorra is the only person I can be myself with. He is the only one that knows the real me. Not even Tatsuki knows me as well as he does. He has accepted me without question since we first met in Middle School nearly seven years ago. He is the one constant in my life, my most trusted person. I am so lucky to be together here with him. I don't ever want to be without him.
I'm so close to him, it's as though our bodies are still connected. My left arm and leg are draped across his stomach and upper thighs. The room is bathed in darkness; no light from the moon will push through his black out curtains tonight. All I can feel is him. I trace my left hand languidly over his stomach and up to his chest, making tiny circles with my index finger. I can see the corner of his mouth turning up in a half smile.
I feel his left hand on my shoulder, his right on my waist, drawing me on top of him. My thighs straddle his, my stomach against his, my breasts against his chest, my head tucked securely under his chin. His fingers move up and down my back, I can't help but revel in his touch. His fingers are calloused, rough. I love them. I love him. I can't help but shiver as one hand traces down and then back up my spine. A whispered moan escapes my lips. Where did that come from?!
Pressing myself even closer to him, I move my hands to his hair, fingering his long black locks. He loves it when I play with his hair. It is so beautiful. I hope he never cuts it. All is silent but for our steady breaths – not even the noise from the street seeps into his one bedroom apartment.
I can feel him becoming hard against my thigh. I don't think I want to do it again so soon. I know he would never force me. He knows what I've been through. I know he loves me, even though he doesn't say it. He doesn't have to – his actions speak louder than words.
I know what he has been through. I know he might never be able to say the words, but I don't care. I just want to stay like this. It's just him and I, just us. I want to stay exactly like this, and be this close to him forever.
His rough hands don't stop tracing patterns over my back as I lie upon him in the dark, drifting off into dreamland. I will have no nightmares tonight. I am safe.
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Friday, 02:31am
Huaco Mundo Apartments, Sereitei
Penthouse Suite A
ORIHIME
It's never going to be like that. I'll never have that intimacy, that closeness with him ever again. Not now. Not now that he knows. He knows that I kept this from him. Oh, what he must think of me, the very thought is too hard to bear.
I thought I would have closure once I told him the truth. I thought closure was what I wanted…
The little blue men tricked me – no, that's not right. They didn't do this, I did this to myself. I've been lying to myself. I never wanted closure, I just wanted him.
I just wanted him.
I need to get out of here, but I don't know where I am. I don't even know the passcode to the elevator. I don't remember what buttons he pressed.
I have to wait for him to come back.
I need for him to come back.
Picking myself up from the couch I searched the plush rug and surrounding floorbaords on all fours for my purse. I need to find my phone. The desperation and urge to leave was paramount. My search turned up empty as I finally realised that my purse must be in his car. So much for my escape.
Not knowing what to expect when or even if he returns, I got up and trudged to find the guest bathroom. A scolding hot shower was in order. I'm sure he won't mind me using it – after all he must know that I am stuck here until his return. He's far too aware of himself and his surroundings to forget that.
The bathroom was ornate – charcoal coloured tiles from floor to ceiling. Chrome fittings and a black marble basin and matching spa the only solid fixtures within the room (which was the size of my classroom). Two waterfall shower heads were situated against the far wall, no glass divide or door to separate the shower from the rest of the room. A black cotton robe and a black cotton bath sheet hung on chrome pegs next to the vanity and marble basin. I stripped my clothes and turned on one shower head. After checking the temperature I stepped under the deliciously hot spray. The pressure of the water cleansing my body as the realisation hit me:
I am still just as in love with him as I ever was.
But now, our relationship hangs on nothing more than broken tethers, and it's all my fault.
It's all my fault.
Leaning heavily against the tiles, I didn't even realise that my tears had started up again amongst the steam and heat of the shower. I didn't even realise that I was sobbing and struggling to breathe. I didn't even realise that he'd come back until his chest was pressed against my back and his arms were around my waist, drawing me closer to him.
He silently turned me to face him, before leaning in and placing a tender kiss to my forehead. His arms pulled me further against him, his chin upon the crown of my head. He swayed our bodies slowly back and forth to the tune of a song only he could hear.
We stood there like that for what felt like could've been hours, days or weeks. Him fully clothed and me so very naked. I don't remember leaving the heat of the shower. All I remember is falling asleep in his arms, dressed in that black robe with him stroking my hair.
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Author's Note:
Hello dear readers (if any of you are left) :)
I've only just unblocked my writer's block and apologise for the delay.
I hope you enjoy this chapter, even though it is particularly angsty. At last, the secret is out.
Also, I never condone domestic violence or drink driving, so rest assured that none of Ulquiorra's actions were either of those.
Again thank you to those who have continued to follow/fave/review Running Scared - this is for you.
xx livingdeadclaire