Originally posted 1/6/2014
Whoops more Muse high school AU. Music for atmosphere: “Closer” by The Tiny.
His bedroom both was and wasn’t what she’d expected: clean, decorated with various trophies and classical music awards, a whole wall featuring framed originals of his compositions; but it didn’t feel very lived in. It was like a themed hotel room, designed down to the last detail to make whoever stayed there feel welcome, but not too welcome.
Maybe that was why he was sick, she thought, staring at the hospital bracelet on his too thin wrist. Maybe if he threw some clothes on the floor or tracked dirt on the carpet or ate food in there every once in a while, he wouldn’t have ended up in the emergency room.
He hadn’t stirred when she came in a few minutes ago. He’d probably be mad at her if he found her in his room - or in his house for that matter - without his godly permission, so she didn’t plan on staying. She wasn’t even sure why she was there in the first place. Guilt, or something. She ate lunch with the guy every day and hadn’t said a word about the food he never touched. She just assumed he was eating at home.
But that was it, wasn’t it? She was always assuming. He had money and talent, his life was so easy, he was loved by so many people. He couldn’t possibly have problems, and if he did, they weren’t real problems. The privileged couldn’t have real problems. It was all in their head.
His eyes opened. Orihime’s heart jumped into her throat, followed by a myriad of excuses. Homework delivery? They didn’t have any classes together. Sarah invited her? She wasn’t home, fuck. It was on the way? She lived in Lakewood, the exact opposite direction of Steilacoom. “Err…”
“Ms. Inoue,” he said groggily, “what a surprise.”
Orihime’s string of excuses fell apart like a worn out bead necklace. A surprise? He was surprised? What the hell did he think of her? That she was only pretending to be his friend to get something from him? That she’d heard about him passing out in class and laughed? She’d faked period cramps and humiliated herself to get to the nurse’s office to see him before Matthew took him to the ER, and quite frankly, she never wanted to see him like that again.
She stood from his desk chair and sat on the edge of his bed. “Move over.”
Ulquiorra stared at her, cloudy-eyed and rumpled, unsure if he’d heard her right. “Huh?”
“Move,” she snapped, and he was so bewildered that he obeyed. Orihime flopped over beside him, slid her arms around his torso, and buried her face in his chest. His shoulder blades were more pronounced than they should have been. His shirt didn’t fit him quite right. There was so little to hold onto, and yet, she felt his heart beating hard against her forehead and a flood of tears rushed to her eyes. “You’re an idiot,” she whispered, her voice catching.
Ulquiorra stared past her shoulder at the clock on his nightstand. It was 11:52am. She’d ditched school to come see him.
He lifted her head, brushed away the tear that rolled down her cheek with his lips, followed the path the others had left, to her trembling mouth. He’d never kissed her before. He’d never even thought of kissing her, not once. But there in the darkness, as he sank into the depths of a vast and silent ocean with no strength left to swim, it was all he wanted to do.And so he did.