It’s been pouring rain all day and I’m dying to write M!Ulqui and TY!Hime (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
Orihime shook her head furiously, her hands balling up the bottom of her pajama top. She sat in the middle of Ulquiorra’s bed, where she had been since the television posted a tornado warning for a list of counties she could not yet recognize. He’d tried to tell her they would be fine, but she didn’t believe him; and to further illustrate her disbelief she went off in Japanese that was peppered with the occasional English word like “Dorothy” and “twister” and “munchkin.”
Ulquiorra, reclining with his back against the headboard, smirked when a flash of lighting sent Orihime diving into the sheets. He waited for the thunder to subside before he leaned over and lifted the blanket off her. “Do you know how I know we’ll be alright?” he asked her.
Orihime blinked at him with frightened eyes. He held his phone out to her, its screen displaying a Doppler radar loop. “See how the red and yellow are moving more north than east? It means the storm is going to skim the city at best. And this,” he pointed to a spot where the colors appeared to be twisting in on themselves, “is called a hook echo. Your tornado will most likely be located there.”
Orihime straightened, watching the colors move away from the dot that labeled the city. “It is not coming toward us.”
“That’s right,” Ulquiorra said, adding with a hint of wickedness, “but if you still want to sleep here tonight, you’re more than welcome to.”
Orihime lowered the phone, lifted her head, and did her best to look aloof. “Okay.”
“That’s what… huh?”
“I said okay.” She reached over him to put the phone on the nightstand. Ulquiorra watched her slip her legs under the covers, yank a pillow from his stack, fluff it, and plop it down. “Big storms make me nervous. I will sleep here.”
Ulquiorra handed her a second pillow. He’d rather sleep on two pillows than three. He’d rather the tornado throw a cow through his window than sleep on an odd number of anything, bed excluded. “It could be dangerous for you,” he said quietly.
Lightning illuminated the wall. A moment later, the lamp on the nightstand went out, along with the air conditioning, and the dishwasher in the kitchen. Thunder rolled over the building with strength enough to rattle dishes. When it was over, Ulquiorra found Orihime clinging to him, her face buried in his chest, her heart beating so hard he could feel it through her back.
They couldn’t see each other in the darkness at all. But her lips found their way to his anyway, and when the lamp flickered back on minutes later, she lifted her mouth to his ear and whispered, “turn it off.”