And yet, despite Ulquiorra's dire warnings ("he knows, woman") this does little to deter him from coming to Orihime in the night. She isn't exactly sure what causes him to so brazenly risk detection, but she has a few ideas. Perhaps he does it merely to keep an eye out on her, or maybe he does it out of habit. But the one she plays with the most – the concept that is the most shocking, and yet the most personally gratifying – is that their ritualized rendezvous have somehow gained significance to him, and he does it because he wants to.

The more she thinks about it, the more that she becomes sure.

(Or maybe she has it half-right; there is some latent curiosity there, borne out the frenzied joining of their bodies. But Orihime is something of a romantic, and she largely glosses over the sex part. To her, they have long since transcended the point of mere personal gratification.)

Because if Orihime is allowed to be honest, she likes Ulquiorra. She likes him a whole lot. She wouldn't go as far as to call it love (Kurosaki-kun) but there's definitely affection there, fondness. She looks into those cool planes of his face, and she doesn't see masked irritation or casual indifference, but the look of tolerant understanding, something akin to warmth. She's spent enough time in Ulquiorra's company to know that the dynamic between them has been irrevocably altered, although it may not plainly evident to others.

Tonight, after their physical whims have been sated, Orihime pleads with Ulquiorra to stay with her in bed for a while. It is not unusual for him to linger, in these past few weeks, but he's always quick to remove any physical link between them. But now Orihime lies in the crook of Ulquiorra's arm, her own arms wound tightly around his waist, as though her pitiful strength were enough to keep him prone. Ulquiorra lies as stiff and as awkwardly as a board. He stares blankly at the ceiling.

"You're like a cat, you know?" Orihime whispers fondly, and she wonders if her hot breath tickles the cool shell of his ear. "You only tolerate these kinds of things for so long."

Ulquiorra blinks. He obviously has no experience with cats to draw the analogy from.

"Nevermind." She laughs, and it comes out huskier than she intended. Orihime's hold reluctantly slackens as he sits up, rumpled sheets pooling around his waist.

"Are you trying to seduce me again, woman?" He asks.

This startles another laugh out of Orihime. "No, why?"

Ulquiorra simply looks at her, as though he doesn't quite believe her. Orihime takes a moment to admire the lean, pale physique of her companion before returning her attention to his face. "That doesn't quite help my case, does it?" She grins as she notes the hint of skepticism there. "Leering at you, I mean." Her tone becomes gentler. "No, Ulquiorra, I'm simply enjoying your company." She reaches forward to pat him on the thigh, but her hand feels the bulge or something very different instead.

"Oh. Oh." Finally she gets it. Ulquiorra actually averts his gaze; this is the closest to embarrassed that he will ever be. Almost sympathetically, Orihime pulls back the covers, exposing the rest of his lovely white form. She eases his thighs apart and settles between them.

"What are you doing, woman?" Ulquiorra asks, almost warily.

"Just because I wasn't trying to seduce you doesn't mean I'm not willing," Orihime says simply, smiling up impishly at him before taking Ulquiorra into her mouth.

--

"Ulquiorra." Orihime's voice pierces the dark quiet room some time later, after their breathing has returned to normal.

Ulquiorra doesn't answer, but Orihime knows that he's listening. "What's going to happen to me?"

Ulquiorra does not stir from his spot beside her. He does not stiffen, nor grimace, but the shadows around his face seem to have altered, almost as though to brace himself for what's surely coming next. Orihime, previously lying on her back, rolls onto her side; she takes those delicate hands of her, used for healing, and absently ghosts her fingers along his clavicle, just above where his hollow hole is.

"You said yourself that Aizen knows. Do you think he'll try to separate us?"

Ulquiorra's eyes remain fixedly on the ceiling above him. For a moment, Orihime thinks that he's simply decided against answering. It wouldn't be the first time: Ulquiorra is choosy like that.

"Do you think he might put me under the care of someone like Grimmjow or Nnoitra?"

"No." Ulquiorra says, so abruptly that Orihime stares. And then: "I would imagine that our" – there is the barest of pauses here – "arrangement would amuse Aizen-same greatly, if anything. It is highly unlikely that he would interfere."

"But if he did?" Orihime insists.

Ulquiorra closes his eyes. "Our being together is presumably beneficial to Aizen-sama's plans. Most likely he is under the impression that your foolish human sentimentalities would further assure your loyalty to him."

Orihime is a little taken aback by Ulquiorra's answer. She's used to him being more cryptic than that.

"That's a little presumptuous, isn't it?" She asks, and suddenly there is the sound of sheets being pushed aside as Ulquiorra sits straight up.

"Am I wrong?" He asks, and his eyes catch hers before she can look away.

"N-no."

"As I said before," Ulquiorra said crisply, simply. "Aizen-sama is no fool. And you are remarkably easy to read."