Lelouch pressed the pads of his fingers against hers and traced her cheeks and tears with purple irises through the night of his eyelashes. So much to say that it was fucking suffocating him like a noose tightening around his windpipe with each smile she left in his presence. It was all too much. Too heavy to carry and too disgusting and corroded that he would never find a solid solution -sometimes. She had been necessary in the beginning. But the gravity of her pull had been unforeseen. Kallen was a magnet and he was certain to fall prey to her charms and wiles if he stayed too long. So he left in the middle of each night he lingered in her room. He blinked and looked away if she gazed at him for longer than he could bear (because he was so naked and tainted under those frostbitten eyes of hers). He spoke fluently and loudly to overpower her blunt and level words that often kept him teetering between the foolish notion of hoping to hear more of her world or spilling over into a silent insanity.
Kallen was much too skilled at this. Without realizing. She was brash and horribly heavy handed. But that's what made her so special. So enticing. She could hold him tight and leave bruises the next day -proof that she was still holding him. His medal of courage and his savior's cross all wrapped inside fiery spirit and gumption.
When she took a moment to fall quiet and confess her worries (which were few and far between), he felt useless. He was nothing more than a child himself, tangled inside a hero's mask and a con-artist's cape. What comfort could he possibly offer her?
So he kissed her thoroughly and thoughtfully. He loved her completely. Physically and spiritually. And she saved him. His redeemer, saving grace.
While minions and followers pledged their allegiance to him; to Zero, he gave her his blood and body. His soul and ambitions. No god was complete without his lovely goddess.
How he loved his warrior queen. His harbinger and sword. His Athena.