Music to my Heart (A Bleach/Ulquihime fic)

Chapter 13

This story belongs to Cerice Belle at FanFiction.net. I am only publishing it in order to share it with more people. All credits go to her.
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Orihime flitted around the room with a swift yet jerky abandon; fixing an already straight cushion, adjusting dining chairs, and directing a glance at the shrine in the corner which was, at that moment, tightly closed. Maybe it wasn't too late to call Ulquiorra and tell him that she couldn't make that evening and that they should try for another time. Surely he would understand. Yes, that was what she would do.

Just as she had made her mind up and picked up her phone, the doorbell rang. She squeaked and the phone slipped through her fingers to clatter on the wooden floor.

"Oh pig snouts!" she cursed, picking the phone up and glancing at the door. There was nothing for it now; he definitely would have heard her. She took a deep breath and stumbled towards the door. She pulled it open, her mouth ready to tell Ulquiorra that she actually had another engagement and that she had only just remembered, but stopped when she saw him standing there wearing a crisp white shirt and holding a bouquet of blue cornflowers with a disgruntled look on his face. Her gaze softened; how could she tell him to go away when he was bringing her flowers of all things?

Ulquiorra's eyes widened ever-so-slightly as he saw Orihime at the doorway. She was wearing a pretty, baby-blue ruffled blouse, a black skirt, and her auburn hair was halfway pulled back from her head and tied with a blue ribbon; her usual hairpins sparkling above her ears. She had a harried look to her face which relaxed when she saw him even though her hand was still clenched tightly around a small pink phone.

"H-hello," she stammered.

He thrust the flowers at her, "Here." He said. "Cirucci always said that if you were invited to someone's house you had to bring a gift. I thought these would match your pins."

She smiled at him, the corners faltering slightly, "T-thank you Ulquiorra, they're lovely." She leaned down to take them and the fragrance of apples and cinnamon wafted past his nose. "Come in, just throw your bag anywhere," she told him.

He followed her into the apartment and hung his work bag neatly over the rungs of a dining chair, his bottle-green eyes surveying the room. It was rather cluttered, with multiple objects that held no interest to him strewn around in various places. The dining table was home to a very messy science project that seemed to involve multi-coloured glitter, pieces of cardboard, and a large pile of paddle-pop sticks. Her school-bag was thrown carelessly in a corner along with her school shoes, PE gear, and jumper. The floor was wooden with multiple stains and ruts carved into it with a set of cheerful, although faded, yellow walls to match. There was a blue-themed kitchen to the right; to its left was an orange leather couch with the stuffing coming out opposite a second-hand TV. But what really caught his attention was in the far left corner where a beautiful, old-fashioned wooden piano sat perpendicular to a small cupboard. The warm atmosphere was added to by the banging of kitchen cupboards as she bustled around looking for a vase for the flowers. It had a pleasant sort of smell, not unlike the one he had scented when Orihime had taken the flowers from him, occasionally broken by the aroma of spiced chicken wafting through the room from a blaring oven. It suddenly hit him that this was what a home was like. This warm, friendly atmosphere that made him feel secure was the true presence of a home.

Orihime sighed in relief as she finally found a nice vase to put the flowers in; white china with blue forget-me-nots. She filled it with water and took it to the dining table. Pushing her assignment out of the way she placed it in the middle and put the flowers in; arranging them just so. She stepped back to admire her handiwork and inhaled the sweet fragrance happily.