As he slowly disintegrated, shimmering like light reflected against glass, he puts his palm against her cheek, wanting his last image, his last memory of this moment to be of her.
She stares back, uncomprehending but determined, yet allowing him this small thing that on an instinctive level, she forgives and understands.
"You really are an abominable woman." He says softly, a rueful smile on his face.
despite his arrogance, despite his flaws, he has always known.
He understands she is incapable of reciprocating his feelings. In fact, he is almost certain she feels it is a rude, obnoxious joke. And that she will never bend, never break.
He could have won. He could have set aside his own proclivities to beat her into submission.
But in the end, though he claimed victory, he would never conquer.
And at the last moment, he realizes.
That, is what had drawn him in, in the first place.