A/N: First time publishing a fic, sorry if it's bad. I totally fell in love with this pairing when I saw the Special Episodes, so here I am. Criticism and reviews are much appreciated. Happy holidays and enjoy!

Remembrances

∫xOx∫xOx∫

As time passed, her world began to crumble.

When Project Labyrinthia had been announced, Eve remembered knowing she couldn't refuse Mr. Cantabella's requests to help Espella's state of mind. Mr. Cantabella had asked her to come to Labyrinthia as she was Espella's childhood friend and the only person who could fathom such an idea.

He was wrong.

Eve had paced back and forth in front of the large bed, spitting curses and unhappy complaints against the founder of Labrelum Inc., a red-haired man sprawled on the pure white sheets listened patiently. And then, he did what Eve had hoped for him to never do. He volunteered to be a test subject.

Of course, Eve had disagreed heavily, unwilling to allow him to subject himself to such a travesty of a plan. She remembered sobbing in his arms when he wouldn't back down from his decision, and his promise that he wouldn't forget her, he'd live on for her. Her promise that she wouldn't cry for him, and that she wouldn't surrender.

One year into the project, and he was a complete stranger to her. He fought for the townspeople, for the Knights of the Inquisition. Darklaw knew she could never approach him the same way she had once done, and she stared at him from clear across the room, noticing every old habit he performed. From the strain on his face when he was nervous to the slamming of his desk when he was frustrated, it was all the same. Darklaw remembered smiling days after she realized that he was truly the same man. But that smile always faded as she remembered that no, he was not. Months passed, and the darts piercing the photographs of the two of them that were littered across her bedroom increased steadily.

Remember everything, she pleaded him silently from across the room. Please, she begged, remember so that we can be us again, so that I won't have to be me, but us.

Five years. Five long years and he had finally conceded to spending a little more time with her. Zacharias was an intelligent man, but he never understood why Lady Darklaw had felt so familiar. He realized that he, unwillingly, could catch every bad habit she had. She touched her neck when under pressure, played with the golden string stretching around her torso when she felt embarrassed, placed her hands on her heart when she was struck with fear or disbelief. He convinced himself it was simply of the fact that he was an inquisitor, trained to understand and read people's movements to prove contradictions and false testimonies.

But with every passing day, he grew more and more impatient because he felt like he was forgetting something, but he didn't know what. And every day he felt her emerald eyes boring holes into his back as he scrawled words across the documents piled on his desk, as if conceding him to remember, remember!

The ninth year struck, and she could barely remember. It was not that the hypnosis of the Storyteller had stolen her mind. It was the bad memories of him. They argued much nowadays, despite Darklaw being his superior. Morning after morning, Darklaw would awake, expecting to be in her memory of her home in the small secluded plains of her hometown. Expecting to see his opened gray eyes, and expecting his fingers to be tracing her cheek, murmuring sweet nothings into her ear.

And every day, when her dreams were not reality, she shrugged off the burdening tears that formed because she promised that she wouldn't cry, and she knew she couldn't until he had fulfilled his own promise.

He remembered everything when she had stood in front of him on the tenth year, on the other side of those accursed metal bars, her hands hanging limply by her sides and her eyes blank like Espella's had been mere hours ago. Her head hung in shame, the superior attitude on her face shattered as she stared at the cobblestone floor of the dungeon.

Eve's eyelids had fluttered before she shyly lifted her head to meet his gaze for a split second before guilt overcame her features and she turned away, fishing out the key rather clumsily. He had stayed within the bars until the door opened and she stepped in, announcing quietly he was free to go. Then, he reached for her hand, pulling her ever so close and kissing her forehead gently as Eve gasped. He remembered the tears streaming down her face. Remembering, he had decided while she murmured an apology into his lips for not being able to keep her promise, was the best thing a knight like him could do.

Or perhaps not, as remembering the bitterness of loss tasted sour on his tongue as Eve looked at him from across the street, her eyes downcast and shadowed with a feeling of unwillingness as men called her name out from afar in jubilant praise, was the worst thing he remembered. Zacharias knew he couldn't comfort her - he wouldn't dare approach her in the days to come after he remembered in fear of the woman casting him out.

She remembered receiving his birthday gift to her a year after Project Labyrinthia had ended. Espella chided him for standing there for an hour, yet having not given Eve her birthday gift, and he handed her an éclair of sorts. The delicate treat, despite being lumpy, was well-crafted with good taste.

She remembered that he came bearing a letter for her a week later. Eve had been surprised, but invited him in, which he had agreed. As she had sipped a cup of tea alongside him, she read the letter, only to stop at the first words. She could still remember the utter shock she received, and it was the first time she had cried such bitter tears for him. He had held her tight, calming and soothing her panic-driven sobs.

They could both remember the promises they made to each other, so long ago.

Remember to never forget, never stop living, never cry, and never surrender.