A/N: Happy Ninth day of Fanfiction Christmas!

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***One Week Later***

"About this whole suitor thing…"

DG huffed and threw up her hands.

"Great! You too!?" She started pacing and pressed a hand to her forehead. "It's bad enough that my parents are weighing in on my love life, but now I get to hear your two cents too! Of course! Let's ask the butler out in the hall, while we're at it!"

Last week Ahamo had ambushed her. He wasn't thrilled to do it, but he came to her room anyway to tell her that Parker Ellington was asking for her hand in marriage. He thoroughly explained to her, with Cain standing silently in the background, what a good match it would be and why it would be great for the Outer Zone. And in no uncertain terms, that he and her mother would very much appreciate it if she accepted. She had almost felt bad for the man.

Cain looked as if he had been sucker punched. Repeatedly. He seemed too shocked to mask his feelings and she easily saw the brief pain that showed on his face. It looked like he was trying hard to swallow all of the words he had just about let spill out. He jerked his head in what he hoped was an affirmative and understanding manner, and turned to go. He must have figured not saying another word, ever, would keep him from losing it.

"Wha- Cain!" Her voice was almost chiding. As if she hadn't expected her outburst to send him running, let alone render him speechless. She put a hand on his arm, stopping him. "Cain?" She stepped in front of him, her face quickly filling with regret and guilt. "Look, I didn't mean it…I'm just…" she trailed off as he looked at her, briefly at her lips, and then away again.

"I shouldn't be here," he whispered, more to himself than anything. He made to move towards the door again, but her hand on his arm stopped him again.

"Wyatt?" She quietly prodded. His eyes found hers again. She sighed. "You know you can tell me anything, and I would listen." She bit her bottom lip and tilted her head, her eyes practically burning him with the need to hear what he wanted to say. "Even about this…" she barely whispered. "I trust your opinion on pretty much everything, so…why not this too?"

"Don't marry him."

The surprise registered on her face. Sure, it seemed like she was expecting him to interrupt her, but not necessarily with that particular declaration.

"Ozma knows, you of all people, should get some sort of say in it after all we've…" She trailed off and shook her head. "But don't you think that…that it IS my choice in the end?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "To do what's right for-"

"For the country?" He sounded almost condescending. "Or for you?" She bristled at his challenging tone.

"You know damn well that marrying for the sake of a kingdom is not at all what I dreamt of as a girl. How DARE you act like I'm making this sacrifice on a whim, like I might think it will be fun or something!"

"Well, why not! You seem to treat every other aspect of relationships as if it's a game! Who knows how many pawns you have going!"

He must have known he was stepping in it the second he started this conversation, but it probably didn't lessen the surprise of her stinging slap across his face.

She barely registered the shimmer of tears in her eyes before she slapped him again for good measure. She waited until his eyes found hers again before quietly replying with all the vehemence she could muster.

"Fuck you." A hot, pain filled tear rolled down her cheek.

"Well that's all I'm good for aren't I?" The bitterness and pain that he had been doing such a good job of hiding over the past few days finally boiled over. The sight of her angry, hurt, and crying because of him surely wasn't helping him either. "I'm only good enough to be your fuck buddy." He ran a hand through his hair and glanced at the ceiling. "Ozma, DG, what the hell were we thinking!?" He turned away and started pacing. "What was I thinking!? Yeah, sleeping together is a great idea." Bitter sarcasm was bleeding through now. "What could possibly go wrong!? Definitely nothing to do with the fact that 'I trust you' is the OZ's version of 'I love you.'" His eyes flashed to hers briefly and she could feel herself grow pale at his words and more tears streaked down her face, but he was on a roll. "And I knew you didn't know that at the time, but I didn't care! I knew that just 'staying friends' was bullshit and it would only be a matter of time before you figured out what trust would lead you to all on your own."

"Wyatt…" she pleaded.

He stopped pacing and looked at her, a broken man.

"And what's more?" He gestured between them. "Is that I've trusted you since long before we started any of this," he finished in a whisper. The strength of his fight was leaving him. She closed her eyes, pushing more tears out, and shook her head at the floor.

"I do trust you," she whispered after what seemed like an eternity. His eyes locked on hers. "Like TRUST you, trust you…" She sniffed and wiped the tears from her face. "Which is why this really IS a sacrifice…" She sniffed again, trying to keep it together. "..and it really, REALLY sucks."

"But you have to do it?" He supplied, with the barest hint of a question and hope.

She looked at him now. REALLY looked at him. And all of the memories of him swirled in her head. Not just ones that involved him sans clothes, but the ones where he was making her laugh and making sure she was okay. She wiped more tears away.

He was looking at her like her next words could end him. Her lip quivered. She took a shaky breath and realized that she couldn't bring herself to say yes.

In fact, she was on the verge of saying no.

And he could tell.

He crossed the space between them and leaned down to kiss her. She inhaled sharply through her nose, and he brought both of his hands up to cup her chin as he pressed a few more kisses to her lips. She made a noise somewhere between a squeak and a moan, and then his arm was sliding around her waist and she was kissing him back. Her arms were pinned between them but her hands were hanging on to the front of his shirt for dear life.

The kiss wasn't like the other kisses they had shared. It didn't have groping or the shedding of clothing. It wasn't even sexually charged or full of sensuality. It was pure emotion.

Soon the adrenaline wore off and their kisses became less frantic. He gave her one final kiss before tilting his mouth away and pressing his forehead to hers briefly. He seemed to savor the moment as best he could. Then he stepped away, still holding onto her arms, and looked her in the eye. He must have seen the uncertainty written all over her face. His mouth couldn't seem to form the words his brain was telling it to, and so instead he squeezed her hands and tried to convey a message to her with his eyes.

And then he left.

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A/N: It hurts my heart to write angst :(