I AIN’T ANYTHING T'THAT FUCKIN’ JACKASS!!! FUCK YOU, YA FUCKIN’ FAT BITCH!!

The steps leading up to the main keep were a favorite place of hers to sit. Miles and miles of desert stretched on before her, while the remnants of Las Noches spiraled outwards like the spokes of a wheel. From here, she could see any approaching figure. 

Unless, of course, they appeared from behind her.

Sung-Sun glanced over her shoulder, pale gaze trailing up to his face as he took a seat behind her, above her. For a few seconds she merely observed the sexta, noting the lack of tension that normally permeated the air around him. When she spoke she faced forward again, but made sure her voice was loud enough to drift back towards him.

        He really didn’t make any effort to try and make himself more approachable. Not that Orihime expected any less - but it was still nerve-wracking to be in the same room as the former Sexta. Orihime could never really understand his way of thinking, his behavior, his actions. Sometimes, when they were in the same room together, Orihime would be daring enough to make eye contact. 

        That never glossed over very well. Fortunately, Urahara was there to calm things down a bit.

        Talking wasn’t very easy too, she gave up a long while ago trying to communicate with Grimmjow. It wasn’t particularly getting her anywhere, and Sado hadn’t really liked the way Grimmjow had spoken to her. It might’ve been surprising to him, but Orihime was far more accustomed to it than she would like to admit. 

        His anger and violence wasn’t going to change, she knew that. And she was very aware of his intentions with Kurosaki when they managed to meet face to face. And she also knew there wasn’t much she would be able to stop it. When Orihime finally got the courage to try and speak to him, it was much closer to the end of her own and Sado’s training. 

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Why does he care whether or not I have my sleeve up?

“I have no idea why he speaks to me; ask him if you’re so curious.”

“Does he even own a shirt?”

I still remember the feel of his reiatsu during that battle. 

“If he hates Las Noches as much as he says, I don’t understand why he doesn’t just leave it all behind completely.” 

“I don’t think he wants to fight Harribel-sama.”

I wonder what he wants from me. 

“He’s not awfully hard to read, most of the time.” 

I hate that I can feel him staring.

She would ask what that look was for--