Gilbert can provoke a number of feelings in her, most of which she cannot put to name, but one she is pretty sure of is wary. She is wary of him, of the threat he presented, and still presents to this day.

Music speaks when words can't. And it is a philosophy that she lives by every day. But the thing about Gilbert that scares Maria the most is how he can speak this language, too. The words and the notes that she entrusted with her soul, that carried her gently off the cliff and blew warm wind to flutter her down safely, were her only solace in life. Gilbert could sing a song that, terrifyingly, only Maria could hear. And it made her wary.

They were not sure what to do with this development, as Gilbert circled Maria at her piano. Would they bring the fight here, as they did in meetings, in general, everywhere they both were? Could they agree on this one thing? …Could she trust him to carry her?

She warily played the first few notes of the song before he opened his mouth to sing. Yes, it appears, she breathed, that he can.


"Why do you never let anyone see this side of you?" she asks, mystified, as she sits at her piano.

Maria, in all honesty, is everything he isn't. She has nobles to impress with the sonatas she plays and he has battles to win. Simple as that.

So why, in all honesty, isn't it? Why isn't it that simple?

Fuck if I know, Gilbert thinks, and leaves it at that. Except he doesn't.

"When people see good, they expect good. And I don't want to have to live up to anyone's expectations," he said slowly, looking towards the ground. He keeps his gaze there even as Maria stands gracefully and walks towards him, and he counts her steps in time before she stops in front of him and he looks up.

"Kiss me," he whispers longingly, staring up at her face.

She blinks back at him. "I'm not yours to kiss."

He stands slowly, and she eyes him warily. "Good thing I'm not a good man, then."