"I trusted you!"
Cullen's fist slammed down against the desk, papers and books already scattered across the floor. Even the inkwell had tipped over, a dark trail of ink twisting and turning across the desk like a river of blood. Hawke flinched, never having felt so small in her entire life. Even having been berated as a child by one of her parents, or later when the odd argument rose up with Carver she'd never had this sick feeling. And even as she looked at Cullen with a mix of fear and sorrow in her eyes, she saw nothing but cold fury staring back.
"The least you could have done is-!"
"Is what?" she shouted back, finally finding her voice. Her hands shook as she stood but a pace away from his desk. Her voice wavered, cold shivers shooting down her spine. "I saved your life! What more do you want from me? I've already apologized!"
"And you think that enough?" He snapped back, ice in his tone. His hands balled up again in his anger, releasing and clenching a few times as he visibly tried to steady himself. "After everything that's the best you can do?" He turned his gaze on her again and she could find no sorrow in his eyes to match her own, no worry or fear.
"What do you want from me, Cullen?" She spread her arms, the plea fraying the edges of her own venom. "I never asked for this! I never wanted it!"
"How is that supposed to make me feel better? Maker, Ashley!"
"Don't Maker me, Cullen! What did you expect me to do?" She spun on her heel, pacing back a few steps before turning and repeating the process. "Tell a templar "I love you, and oh by the way I'm a fucking apostate?" I don't see how it would have worked that way!"
She threw her hands up, exasperated. Cullen stared at her, jaw tensed and something new clouding his gaze. He whirled away from her, stalking to the window and staring out at the frost-covered bridge to the main gates of Skyhold.
"When did anything with us work?" he asked after a long pause. His voice had grown softer, the hard edges worn away just a little.
"Seemed to work damn fine for a while," she retorted.
Cullen shook his head, sighing. "Do you really believe that, Ashley? Or is that what you tell yourself?" He looked over his shoulder at her now. "The way I recall, it was two troubled people who found sparse moments of peace in each other while Kirkwall fell to hell around us." He closed his eyes and turned away again.
Hawke swallowed a lump forming in her throat, tears prickling behind her eyes. "Is that really what you think?" Her tone wavered, emotions barely contained.
"I don't know what to think anymore, Ashley," he replied, honestly. "But I damn well know I can't trust you. Not after this, not…" His voice caught in his throat and he shook his head, refusing to turn and look at her. "Just go. Before anything else happens that we'll regret…. before I find out what else you have lied to me about for all these years."
Hawke opened her mouth to protest, but the words died on her tongue. She turned, heading for the door, but pausing before exiting.
"Cullen, I-"
"Just. Go."
The icy words hit her hard, like a sharp slap to the face. She turned away again, wrapping her arms about her torso as she darted across the battlements.