In All My Dreams, It Snows
Hi @tinytensa sorry I kept you waiting for the @ichihimefandomexchange!!! I had to build anticipation >:) Here’s my gift for you! The prompt I used was “trying to keep warm during a power outage (ie cuddling under blankets before having confessed to each other) + awkward/fluffy” and I hope you like it ;u;
Rated T for a little UST + swearing // 4k words
Orihime had never seen anything so lovely in her life.
Tatsuki made fun of her for it, yes, but even she gave up when her teasing couldn’t hamper the look of pure wonder in her wide eyes as they drove through the mountains. The evergreens teemed along the dusted white slopes, contrasting sharply with the cold, black stone that lined the winding road. Even now it was still snowing lightly, and Tatsuki even kept her windshield wipers on and hunched forward to pay careful attention to the pathway.
She felt she had only seen such prettiness in paintings and snowglobes. She felt small, and full of awe and sunshine that wasn’t outside.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this happy at Christmas.
“You’re fogging up the damn windows.” Tatsuki’s dry quip finally made her blink and sit back in her seat, dazed. Laughing with a little embarrassment, Orihime gave a tiny shrug and fiddled with her fingers, even if her gaze still stuck to the rushing scenery outside.
“I can’t believe we get to stay here,” she mumbled, smiling dreamily once more.
“You’re cute. At least it’s keeping you distracted.”
“Distracted?”
“You know. From that nimrod.”
Orihime only had to see the teasing, knowing glint in her best friend’s eyes to comprehend who she was talking about.
“Oh, hush! Don’t call him that. And I don’t need to be distracted, I’m happy that we’ll get to see him.”
Happy was a warm lie in the severity of its understatement, and Tatsuki knew that she knew. In the whirlwind that was the first semester since high school ended, their group had been a hard-pressed to find time to spend together — especially all at once. The fact that Tatsuki’s relatives offered her their family cabin for a good time with her friends, and the fact that said friends were all actually free for a few days to make it, was nothing short of a Christmas miracle.
So Orihime hadn’t seen Ichigo in months, and that was fine. She was guilty of being busy working, too, and heard that he had gone headfirst into his studies.
All it meant was that she was guilty of her heart beating a little too fast, a little more unevenly at the knowledge that she would be seeing him in a few short hours. But wouldn’t anyone? Kurosaki Ichigo was a wonderful person and a great friend. She had never met anybody more lovely in her life, and that was all she could ask for. Just the pleasure of knowing him, and his generous friendship.
And that was fine, too.
When she finally nodded off, thick auburn hair pillowing her head against the cold window, she craved strawberries.
—
She should’ve known not to get so excited. Hope for the best, plan for the worst, right?
Tatsuki paced the wooden floor furiously, teeth gritted as she grumbled to herself. The unpleasantness of the situation was putting quite the damper on the atmosphere — when they first pulled up at the large, picturesque, genuine log cabin, Orihime had very nearly cried at how overwhelmed she was at the sight, and inside had been just as wonderful. The Western furniture all matched and the fridge was stocked and there was even a real, working fireplace.
Then they got the first phone call. Surprised, Orihime helplessly watched as Tatsuki answered it at seeing Chizuru’s number on the ID, and within thirty seconds her face flickered from excitement to irascibility. The news came shortly thereafter: the blizzard that had been forecasted for three days from now decided to come ahead of schedule. As in the next several hours. And there was no way they could safely make that drive today. Maybe tomorrow or the day after.
“Guess it’s you and me for now, kid,” she sighed as she hung up. Orihime frowned through the deep concern for her friends, and then realized something.
“Um, wasn’t Chizuru riding with Chad and Ishida...?”
“Yeah? Why?”
“That means Kurosaki-kun is driving himself, doesn’t it?”
The air hung heavy and silent for a moment before Tatsuki groaned.
“Oh, fuck me. You’re right. Let me call him and see where he’s at...”
And they should have expected as much. The moment she flicked her screen back on, Tatsuki’s eyes landed on the obnoxious X next to her zero bars and grimaced. Of course she would have no signal now. Of course.
So here they were, Orihime anxiously holding a pillow on the couch and watching Tatsuki pace the perimeter.
Finally, she paused with a groan and a few more vulgar words before turning to Orihime. Her jaw was still set and brows furrowed, but her eyes were apologetic.
“Hime,” she said, running her hands tiredly over her face. “I’m gonna have to run into town and use a phone. I should pick up some more stuff anyway... Will you be okay here for a little bit? The drive’s half an hour but I’ll be back before it gets dark.”
There wasn’t a single universe where Orihime would’ve said no. She was certainly brave and knew how to take care of herself! She was a big girl, and had been living alone for years — she could survive a few hours in a cabin. On a mountain. In the middle of nowhere. Alone. A cakewalk, as far as she was concerned!
Pumping her fist with her finest determination, she nodded. “Of course! I’ll hold down the fort until your return.”
Tatsuki untensed, just a little, and she smiled more softly at her optimism. Orihime was contagious as always.
“Thanks,” she said, and then set her shoulders straight. “Well, wish me luck!”
“Good luck! Please be safe.”
“Always.”
She snatched her keys up off a side table and grabbed her thick, furry coat before sending Orihime a wink disappearing out the door.
Orihime sighed, still smiling, and let her gaze cross the open room as she sunk back into the cushions and shut her eyes. Tatsuki would be okay, according to her intuition. Now all she had to do was be okay, too, until she got back.
That only left Ichigo.
A knock at the door startled her, and she blinked, startled that the light had shifted so much. How long had she napped for?
But the knocking came again, and she squeaked before jumping over the back of the couch and narrowly avoiding running into the coat rack.
“Coming!”
Tatsuki must have locked herself out. That made sense, even though it really didn’t, and Orihime was too busy feeling light and relieved that she was back safely that none of these occurred to her as she swung the door open.
“Welcome back!” she sang, her face scrunched up happily in the blast of icy air that came through. Squinting, she could barely make out her figure, but she could make out that they were wearing an entirely different coat than Tatsuki had been, and were much... much taller.
Instinctively backing up, Orihime blinked harder to clear the frost from her eyelashes, and stared up at the imposing form of a very confused Kurosaki Ichigo.
“Welcome... back?”
Truthfully, she would’ve stood there for solid minutes, just staring at him in wide-eyed surprise if the world had let her. However, it was literally freezing outside, and she could not let Ichigo stand there as she gaped at him.
Numb with shock, Orihime remembered to move out of the way and hold the door open more to let him in. A strange bubbling of nervous laughter escaped her suddenly, and she belatedly replied, “I-I thought you were Tatsuki! My bad! Sorry, please come inside and get comfy.”
“Thanks.”
He smiled, faintly, and every little thing she had ever felt towards Kurosaki Ichigo came back to her in a flooding rush.
Orihime unconsciously shut the door and tried not to stare as she watched Ichigo shake the snow out of his bright hair, scowling as he did — as he always did. It made her cheeks hurt. Seeing him, real and tangible, his presence filling up the room — as it always did — was nothing short of surreal and like she’d slipped into a warm bath of relief. Why she should feel relief at seeing Ichigo no one knew, but she just chalked it up to him arriving safely.
Finding her voice, Orihime swallowed the lump in her throat and asked tentatively, “Did you run into any trouble?”
Ichigo was shrugging out of his thick trenchcoat and unraveling the knitted scarf from around his neck as he answered, “Nothing crazy. I heard something about a blizzard on the radio, but it must’ve been just behind me. Are you and Tatsuki alright?”
Orihime nodded quickly. “Yes! She went into town to... call... you... Oh.”
Ichigo’s movements paused and he locked eyes with her at the end of her sentence. A second rush hit her, but this time, it made her tense and breathless and her heart miss a beat, or maybe three.
“Tatsuki left to call me?” he repeated. Orihime nodded again.
“Y-yes, we, um, talked to Chizuru and everyone else a few hours ago, I think? But the blizzard was already on its way, so they said they were going to come later instead. Tatsuki’s phone lost signal after that, and we wanted to make sure you were okay, so she went into town to call you.”
He sighed and rolled his head back. “Figures. And you haven’t heard back from her?”
“Mm-mm! I don’t have a cell phone.”
Ichigo blinked once. Twice.
“...What?” he asked, blankly. Orihime averted her eyes and became very interested in a loose thread on her sweater.
“They, umm, are pretty expensive! I mean, I have a house phone, that comes with the rent, and there’s a phone at work, so I’ve never had a need for one?”
Gosh, this was awkward. Painfully. Orihime glanced up long enough to see Ichigo’s gaze boring into her, making her skin tingle under his thoughtful look, and proceeded to hum to herself promptly. Now she was distracting herself. Take that, Tatsuki!
Ichigo never quite responded to her explanation, and she wasn’t sure if she should bother him. She mumbled something about cocoa tea and excused herself to the kitchen instead, fumbling with mugs and water instead of making a fool of herself.
Ichigo, meanwhile, was thankful for the reprieve. Having the door yanked open to the positively glowing face of Orihime welcoming him home like a perfect, adorable housewife took him completely by surprise, and he had been dealing with the aftermath of his throat feeling too tight and his mouth too dry to say anything remotely fucking polite or reasonable. Every question he wanted to ask fizzled away in his chest — how are you? How have you been? Are you eating well? How was your drive? Have you been okay? Are things okay at home? Do you ever get to see everyone? Why can’t you afford a cell phone? What are you doing now? Did you think about me? I thought about you.
Some of those were inappropriate. Maybe it was better that she had shuffled off. His face must’ve still been scary, he supposed with a humorless smile.
Even as the gas stove warmed up the large cabin, it got chillier and chillier inside. It wasn’t enough to bother him, but he went to mess with the oversized fireplace just in case — he had a feeling Orihime didn’t keep herself warm easily.
The cold should have been a warning. Just as Ichigo got the wood smoldering, the silent sounds outside whistled and peaked rapidly into gusts that whipped at the windows. Hunched down, he turned his head to see nothing but darkness and then violent blurs of white sweeping past it, and an uneasy feeling settled in his stomach at the thought of Tatsuki potentially being out there.
“Goddamnit,” he groused, and reached for his phone. No missed texts or calls.
“Kurosaki-kun? I made tea, if you’d like some.”
Orihime had emerged from the kitchen with a steaming cup in her small hands, offering it sheepishly. Ichigo was on his feet in a blink.
“Thanks, Inoue.”
He moved across the room to her in three strides, and mused on — not for the first time — how much shorter she was than him. She always had to tilt her head up to meet his gaze, and in the soft, cozy light of the lamps and fire, it highlighted her positively captivating eyes in every horrible, wonderful way.
He was only dimly aware of reaching out to accept the tea from her, until his fingers brushed against hers and he felt it burn in a way that didn’t hurt at all. Only a little startled, he caught himself in time and set his jaw as he took the hot mug, and once it was firmly in his hold, he allowed himself to look back at her and wonder if she had felt it, too.
Being doused in a sort of chest-seizing image of her lips parted and pupils blown and cheeks slowly growing flushed was not at all what he anticipated. Nor was the sudden, strange ideas that came into his head with it, things that involved closing that meager distance between them and giving her plenty of good reasons to look at him like that.
“Kurosaki-kun?” she breathed out so softly he could taste it.
“Inoue,” he spoke just as softly, completely out of his mind, completely lost. And before Ichigo could do anything more stupid, there was a deafening surge amongst the howling gale outside and they both flinched, followed by the electric lights all cutting out.
The white noise of the power running was gone. The light had all but vanished.
“Kurosaki-kun? Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, Inoue, it’s just the power. Tch. ...Are you alright?”
“Me? Oh, yes, I’m tough as nails. I’m just fine!”
Tough as nails indeed.
The first order of business was lighting candles. It was a nightmare fishing around in the darkness for them, but Orihime found the modest stash in a kitchen drawer with some matches and they set to work placing them strategically around the cabin.
The cold moved in quickly after that, and Ichigo was astounded at the voraciousness of it. It seeped in through the nearly non-existent cracks in the windows and walls, fighting its way in to cling to the air and their skin. Before it could get any worse, he was at the hearth and dropping in a generous amount of firewood to stoke it. Hopefully, it would be enough.
A sudden vibrating pealed through the living area and Ichigo instantly shoved his hand in his pocket to retrieve his cell phone, answering without even looking at the ID. “Hello?”
“Ichigo? Ichigo! Where are you? Are you okay?”
“Calm down, I’m fine. I’m at the cabin with Inoue. What about you?”
The relief in her voice was tangible. “Oh, thank god. It took an hour to get to town, and half the power was out here since it was in the direction of the storm... I didn’t even think about that. I’m safe, I’m at a bed and breakfast and they just got the phone line back up. How’s Hime? Is everything alright there?”
“Well, the blizzard made it to the party,” he said sarcastically, “and the power abandoned ship about half an hour ago. Inoue’s doing alright. D’you wanna talk to her?”
“Shit... No, okay, listen, there’s a lot of food and provisions there, and they’re saying the area should be cleared up in a day, maybe two if it’s really bad. They’re not going to let me go until they give the all-clear, so you’re gonna have to sit tight until then.”
Ichigo grunted back. “Got it.”
“And Ichigo?”
“Yeah?”
“Take care of Hime.”
He agreed, of course, and they said their farewells after that. Funny that she had even requested that; as if he wouldn’t have already.
But, a traitorous voice whispers in his head, haven’t you left her behind for months now?
“Kurosaki-kun? Who was that?”
Pocketing his phone, Ichigo rose to his feet and ignored the cruel voice for the sweeter one.
“That was Tatsuki. She’s fine, just holed up in town... She says we just have to wait here ‘til she gets back. It should only be a day.”
Saying it out loud made it much more real, and Ichigo’s insides seemed to turn heavy. He was going to be alone in this Christmas cabin with Inoue for the next foreseeable day or so. Nobody else.
Okay. Nothing wrong with that. They were friends. This was okay.
“Thank goodness she’s okay...” Orihime’s hand flew to her heart and she half-melted with relief.
“We should try to stay by the fire,” he said after a moment, shifting on his feet. Why did he feel awkward? This shouldn’t have been awkward. There was no reason. Disgruntled with himself, Ichigo forced himself to march her to the large, plush rug in front of the fire and push down gently on her shoulders to make her sit. She squeaked and sputtered the whole way. He grabbed pillows and blankets from the bedrooms, then tossed those over as well. He couldn’t tell if he was distracting or focusing himself, but by the time he had set up an entire nest — complete with their mugs of tea and cocoa — there was really nothing else for him to do but... sit with her.
Orihime was smiling away as usual by the time he folded himself a respectful distance away from her. The urge to smile back was persistent, but Ichigo relented and offered a slight quirk of his mouth in what he hoped looked like something pleasant.
“So... how has your Christmas been so far?” The question came unbidden and tentatively. She squirmed just a little, not able to make eye contact with him since she was still sure he wasn’t too happy about the situation.
Ichigo was sitting criss-cross applesauce as opposed to her tightly hugging her knees to her chest for warmth, and his hands hung over his legs, picking at the fibers of the rug. His face looked stern and sharp and somehow very, very kind — but she always thought that of him. His supposed scariness was always to her delight.
“It’s been good,” he said after a minute of thought. “Busy, but good. Dad always goes nuts this time of year since family and all... and the girls still get hyped up about presents. The house looks like Santa’s workshop blew up. But I mostly was just trying to study for finals.”
“That sounds amazing,” Orihime said, and she meant it with all her heart. The sincerity in her voice caused Ichigo to look over, and he was acutely aware of some sort of distant melancholy in the shadows of her eyes. Suddenly, he felt stupid, and recalled her family situation with more than a little embarrassment.
“What do you normally do for Christmas?” Ichigo asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. But she didn’t seem bothered by it. She was still in good spirits as she answered, “N-nothing normally! Sometimes I get to stay with T-T-Tatsuki, but if her family’s busy then I just st-stay home and have a meatball souffle. It’s really good, especially with m-mint on top. And c-c-cocoa!”
Ichigo blinked at the somehow unusual stammering in her sentence, and his ears perked at the sound of chattering. Chattering teeth. Protectiveness and dismay coursed through him and before he could think or consider anything he was about to do or say, he leaned over and snatched up her arm, tugging her to him.
“K-Kurosaki-kun?!”
“Quiet. You’re freezing. Why didn’t you say something?”
At first, he just plucked the first blanket he saw and bundled it around her, but it looked so pathetic and the idea that she had been sitting there like a human icicle was making his temper flare. And Orihime did not answer. So he took advantage of his natural, furnace-like body temperature, and pulled her against him instead. He settled her snugly between his knees, her back leaned to his chest, and her head fit perfectly beneath his chin.
Still, she said nothing.
His senses came to him slowly, agonizingly, and he dumbly realized he couldn’t turn back from this now. She’d feel bad somehow if he suggested she can bundle up under the, oh, I don’t know, dozen other blankets he had brought over. And he’d look like he didn’t want her there. But, not like that, of course, not like... that...
“Thank you.” Her voice murmured after a few minutes.
Ichigo deliberated for only a second.
“Is this okay?”
“...Y-yes.”
And she wasn’t chattering.
Steadily, he could feel the heat come back to her skin. He watched the mesmerizing flames in silence, trying not to think about the softness of it or how the colors matched her hair sometimes. Worse still was when he realized that the incredible fragrance of flowers and something feminine and mouthwatering was coming from her, just her, and if he tilted his head down just a bit he could catch the scent of her hair, too.
He’d call it weakness, later; but the combination of all these things hit him like a ton of bricks. The clock on the shelf said something like midnight, and after the long drive, drowsiness made his lids heavy and his head cloudier than it already was. Unthinking, he wrapped his arms around her form and held her, entirely forgetting where he was, and what he was doing, and how he was not supposed to have loved Inoue this much, and...
Orihime was certain she was dreaming, but every time she pinched herself she felt the pain, very there, and very real. None of this seemed to be real. But it was — she could feel, hear the deep, even breathing that made Ichigo’s chest rise and fall, and how he had slumped more and more until their weights were mutually holding each other up. He was absolutely and utterly asleep, and holding her like his favourite pillow.
Nothing could stop her skin from tingling or the blood rushing to her face. She didn’t know what to do — this wasn’t unfair to him, was it? Should she wake him up and tell him? But he was so tired, that was obvious, and she’d hate to rouse him after he’d just fallen asleep. Better to let him get a good night’s sleep, and if he asked in the morning, she could just tell him they slept perfectly normally, and—
Warm, firm fingers crawled around her shoulders and upper arms, until his forearms were pressed tight to her breasts and she was skin-tight to his torso. The blush in her cheeks tripled, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek not to make a sound.
A hundred various sensations swarmed her body, and Ichigo’s sleep-cuddling didn’t end there. His hands clawed fondly at her loose tendrils of hair; his nose and mouth nuzzled the crown of her head; he stroked down her neck and splayed his hand across her belly. Nothing bad, and all of it was done with a painstaking care that made her heart ache and breath catch. But, eventually, his wandering touch stilled and he began snoring lightly, though he did not let go of her whatsoever.
If this was what dying felt like, she could be okay with it, she thought.
The fire burned fiercely on and Orihime finally felt the tug of sleep come back to her. Things could be bad when she woke up, but for now, she had never felt lovelier in her life.
She could bottle this moment for now. If she just closed her eyes and pretended, she could imagine things staying like this forever — the endless, secure warmth of the scary boy holding her tightly as she dreamed.
Orihime snuggled in just a tiny bit — not too much — and after deliberating, bit her lip and placed her petite hand on top of his. It still rested possessively across her tummy, and just before her eyes fell shut for the night, she admired the picture of it, and smiled.
His hand was so much bigger than hers.
