Anzu thought about all that he had given her. Seto Kaiba, as she had discovered, was a more generous man than most people could possibly believe. He had given her many things over the years, over the span of their relationship, and they have all been valuable to her. But there was one thing missing, the one thing that she had been hoping for, and that, he had not been willing to give her yet. Anzu wondered if it was too much to ask.
She lowered her magazine onto her lap, leaned back against the cushions and studied him, gauging him for his reaction.
He sat before her, calmly going about his work. His piercing blue eyes, so overwhelming to many people, were perusing the documents before him. His fingers were never still; they were either typing, flipping papers, jotting down notes, or busy tapping a rhythm on the desk.
She hesitated.
"Do you love me, Seto?"
He started, but he didn't look at her. She sighed, and waited.
"Don't ask stupid questions," he said finally.
"I want to know."
"I don't answer pointless questions."
"It's hardly pointless, Seto."
He finally glanced up at her, and she held his gaze for several long seconds. Finally, she shook her head. She was almost disappointed. Almost.
"I don't suppose it matters very much," she said.
"It shouldn't. You don't need me to tell you what you already know."
"No, I guess not."
"Good, is that all then?" He twirled a pen in one hand; the fingers of the other tapped idly on the desk.
"Yes, that is all." She paused, and added, "But, Seto?"
"Yes?"
"I love you."
His lips twitched, and his eyes softened ever so slightly. "I know, Anzu." He turned back to his papers.
It really didn't matter, she decided finally, smiling. Whatever was she thinking, trying to make him confess? She shook her head, her smile widening. She knew the truth, whether he admit it out loud or not. And that was all she wanted: the certainty that he cared.