Orihime relished the feel of the loose stone gritting underfoot as she shuffled from one end of her cell to the other. Every once in a while she would grind her foot on a particularly delicate seeming piece to see if she could crush it to powder on the cold stone floor. She hummed as she scuffed and paced and sometimes she spun on one foot instead, her wordless song building to a crescendo at such moments. When she tired of that she carefully sat on the white stone of the floor, spreading her skirt out beneath her. The thick woolen fabric provided a warm and welcome barrier to the iciness beneath. She picked up a bit of loose stone that was bigger than the rest and scraped it against the tile in front of her. She smiled a little at the slightly brighter white it made against the make-shift canvas. Soon that first line was joined by others and a smiley dog took shape. Orihime again hummed as she worked, unconscious of the song's melancholy tune. By the time she heard the familiar grit of stone opening upon stone, a striped cat and a cherry tree had become the smiley dog's companions.

She paused in the act adding more white blossoms to the white tree and listened for the light steps that always followed the door's opening. They didn't disappoint and she began her white sun as she heard them approach her. "Is it time to eat already?" she asked as she added the sun's rays, not looking up from her drawing.

"Almost." came a voice as cold and emotionless as the stone that made up her room. She finally put down her bit of stone at that and looked up at Ulquiorra. Instead of meeting his green gaze like she expected, she saw that he was looking at the little drawing she had made on the floor of her cell. He looked at it for a long while and Orihime began to fear that he was angry that she had marked her cell so.

"Uh...I'm sorry about this. It's just that there isn't anything to do here and...uh...don't tell Aizen-sama, okay? Look...I can just wipe it away with my foot and it will be as good as new again,"she explained to his silent form as she quickly stood up and raised her foot to scuff the happy dog and stripey cat back into oblivion.

"Don't," Ulquiorra intoned and she looked at him with her foot still hanging over the adorned tile. "It's not important," he said as he finally looked up from the floor and into her eyes. "I've come early today to inform you that a clean uniform will be brought up after breakfast."

"Is that it?" she asked him as she replaced her foot and clasped her hands in front of her skirt.

"Yes," Ulquiorra answered as he stood in place and stared at her. It was disconcerting to be stared at by him so. It was a little like being observed by a statue, its dusty watch alert through the lonely hours of dark morning. She dropped her eyes to the floor and nervously intertwined her fingers together. A few strands of her orangey-red hair slipped from her shoulder and out into the air in front of her. They swayed there for a moment, almost like a dance, and she was vividly aware of his eyes upon them. His hands trembled in his pockets, longing to be free to join the dance and she wondered what it would be like to be touched by a statue. Would his touch be cold and smooth, like laying a fevered cheek against the wall of her cell?

She raised her eyes from whiteness of the floor and slowly trailed them up the whiteness of his uniform instead. They paused a moment at the neck of his jacket, zipped up almost to his chin in brutal propriety. She then traced the line of his jaw with her eyes, it's whiteness only broken by the two bits of green that descended from his eyes like eternally shed tears. Then his mouth came into view and she watched as he nervously licked his lips, the pink of his tongue bright against the black of his lips. She unconsciously mimicked him and felt his gaze shift to her mouth.

The air around them burned with with electricity. Orihime could feel it in the tips of her fingers and the ends of her hair. She half expected a woolen shock as she ran her hands over her skirt like the type she use to thrill to get in the winter as a child shuffling along the living room rug. She nervously twirled the bit of red that dangled in front of her around her finger and Ulquiorra moved. She was instantly pinned to the wall behind her...cold unyielding stone behind her, cold unyielding flesh in front. He was breathing too heavily, frosting the air in front of her face. Crisp fabric shifted against crisp fabric as he pressed his body against hers. Suddenly he leaned in towards her face and ice traced her lips. She closed her eyes and shivered as he poked his tongue into her mouth. She tasted ice as he explored every corner of her mouth. Tentatively, she touched his tongue with hers and he jerked against her body at that small touch. Instead of moving with her, he licked her tongue and then pulled away firmly sucking on her bottom lip as he left.

"Mmmmm..." Ulquiorra half sighed, half whispered. "You taste delicious." He then gently bit her lower lip and then nibbled the delicate skin under her ear. A whisper of a zipper, and she was free of her jacket. He dropped it carelessly on the floor as he chilled her neck with bites and kisses. Orihime gripped his black hair and wondered how such an icy touch could burn. And then it was gone. Ulquiorra released his grip on her shoulders and backed away from her. "I should go," he informed her, staring at the places he had marked on her neck and chest.

Orihime shook her head and felt the tickle of more hair falling from it's place on her shoulders. "No...not now," she whispered to him and slowly backed him towards the couch in the middle of the room. His eyes darted around the room as he backed away from her, as though looking for an escape she was not willing to give. One of the strongest creatures in either heaven and or hell stood before her and yet she was the one with the power here. He sat back on the cushions and she straddled him, pushing him back until he was laying down. She buried her face in his hair, inhaling his wintry scent. She reached for his zipper and bared him the way he did her. Ulquiorra shifted beneath her and his arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her close. She awkwardly kissed his lips, but he must not have noticed her inexperience because he made some sort of a strangled noise at that brush of her lips.

"Orihime..." he whispered as she drew back and looked at him. She slowly traced the black four on his chest and idly thought that she never knew his rank in Aizen's army before now. Concentrated cold emanated from his hollow hole and she looked it over intently. She reached out to touch it, but he shook his head and pulled her back down to his chest. "Is this what you want?" she heard him ask above her hair and she didn't know how to answer. She did want this...him...and yet she was scared too and she told him so. He didn't respond, but instead gently tugged on her hair where his hands were tangled causing her shiver against him. "I should go," he told her again. "Aizen-sama wouldn't approve of this."

Orihime clung to him tighter, not wanting him to go...not wanting his cold replaced with the cold of loneliness again. Moving purposely so he wouldn't think she wanted him to leave, she stood up and took off the last of her clothes. Whiteness puddled underneath her and goosebumps broke out on her body. She started to wrap her arms about herself protectively, but Ulquiorra was there first. He held her close and though he wasn't any warmer than the room, she felt better anyway. Keeping one arm around her, he removed his own clothes as he laid her on the soft couch.

A touch of pain and he was in her...she was caught in winter's embrace. At first she just held him close, relishing the newness of the act. He moved against her slowly and after a bit she responded with her own body and moved with him. Pleasure built up in her towards a climax, and she tottered on the brink as she listened to his unsteady breathing. He licked her neck again and then bit it. Orihime lost it at that and she moaned his name into his hair as she came. Ulquiorra tensed against her as he climaxed himself and she held him tight against her. They stayed that way for a moment as they both recovered. When he left her, Orihime felt a sense of loss and wished she could hold on to him longer. She watched him as he dressed, rubbing her hand on the sore place on her neck. "Don't stay away long," she told him as he prepared to leave.

He looked at her and at first she wasn't sure if he was going to respond. "I won't," he said and with that was gone. Orihime sighed and took her hand away from her neck. Blood colored her fingers and she wondered just what she had got herself into, but as she got up and dressed the tune she hummed was a happy one.