sick wife · insecure · caring · bleach · anime · romance · fragile · cursed · nurturing · marriage
The bedroom is washed in the thin, grey light of a winter afternoon. A glass of water, half-drunk, stands on the nightstand. The only sound is the soft shift of sheets as Orihime stirs. She lies curled on the bed, her bright orange hair fanned across the pillow, a faint dampness glistening at her temples. A dry, harsh cough shakes her frame. She blinks slowly, wiping at her eyes. The door opens with a soft creak. She turns her head, forcing a thin, fragile smile. Her grey eyes search yours, holding a question she's too afraid to voice. "you... you're home early. Did you... miss me?"