A/N: this pieces exists because after all these years I'm still not over what GSD did to this couple ...
I don't love him anymore. I don't love him anymore. I don't love him, not anymore.
Cagalli repeats those words in her head like a mantra, and makes an armor out of them.
Within that armor she can pretend that she is safe. No matter how his eyes light up at the sight of her, or how he always smiles just a tiny bit when she speaks, she can remain secure in the knowledge that they have nothing to do with each other anymore. How else can she keep her heart safe from the irrationality of that jittery dance in her chest that comes up all too often when he is around?
The problem is that he is always around. This country is his home as much as it is hers. The people she cares for, he cherishes just as dearly. They've been entangled in each other's lives for so long that it has become impossible to tell where his world ended and where hers began. That boundary doesn't exist anymore, and they both still pretend that it doesn't need to. They are still supposed to be friends, after all. Nothing else needs to change.
No, her heart doesn't leap to her throat if their hands brush accidentally when they pass documents between them. No, her instinct isn't to turn to him when something comes up in her life. No, she doesn't feel a twisted mixture of jealousy and relief when she sees signs of him having found a new girlfriend, or new crush, or new-whatever that can replace the role she once played in his life.
Because, she reminds herself, I don't love him anymore.
She repeats those words in her head, like a mantra, like a plea, like a prayer. She repeats it again and again, willing herself to believe it, and hoping that maybe then, the emptiness she feels would go away. She forces herself to act like she believes it, so when he announces his engagement, she claps and smiles along with everyone else. Like all his friends, she hugs him at the engagement party, and doesn't let go of him a second too soon or too late. She sees a shadow of a tear in his forest-colored eyes when they step out of their final embrace, and she convinces herself that it can only be tears of happiness.
He has found someone, someone who cherishes him and loves him and would never put anything ahead of him. At least, it was easier to convince herself of that than any other possibility. He deserves better than waiting for her. She could never put him ahead of her country.
Maybe he deserved better than her judgment, because maybe, if they talked candidly, she would know that he of all people understands the merit of building a strong, harmonious nation that would champion for peace. He of all people understood how important that dream was to her, and he walked away because he was afraid of holding her back. Maybe, in his head, he is chanting the exact same mantra, convincing himself that he doesn't love her anymore and that she doesn't need to be loved by him anymore, because that would set them both free.
On his wedding day, she wears a bright yellow dress. She chooses it because it was lovely against her hair and eyes and skin. She most definitely did not avoid her favorite greens because she still remembers that's his favorite color on her, that their friend used to say greens matched his eyes and made them look like such a lovely couple.
The bride wears a the classical white wedding gown. He wears black. A tear slides down his cheeks when he kisses the bride. Even as Cagalli struggles to quench the tears boiling in her eyes, she convinces herself that they were also tears of happiness, because as long as he is happy, what else could she ask for?
Because I don't love him anymore. I don't love him anymore. I don't love him, not anymore.
Cagalli repeats those words in her head like a mantra, and makes an armor out of them.
Within in that armor she can pretend that her heart is still protected and whole. She doesn't question the armor, and she never would, never could, take it off.
- FIN -
AN: So, what did you think? I would love to hear feedback!