AN:
Yes, I know… normally these go near the end BUT they are here to serve as a warning: I don't usually like to use curses and coarse language, not because I am some sort of wimp, but because I feel that if you need to express a feeling or emotion and the only thing you can come up with is a curse then you need to go back to middle or high school and brush on your descriptions... and like any smarmy person, this will come and bite me in the ass (especially) in the hate part so if you don't like curses, then stop reading here, really.
Last chance.
Still with me? Ok, it's your call.
She hates to love him
She is watching him move around and can't help but close her eyes, and force herself to sleep but every little move he does makes her turn to se him, and so she sees him there, asleep and vulnerable, and she can't help but love him.
And she hates it.
She's been running away from those feelings, escaping them for so long, pretending it was better to be by herself and no one else… she has fought so hard to convince herself she doesn't need them and now… she hates the way it blurs the line between caring and love.
Because love is such an old fashioned word, ancient and meaningless in this modern world. An idea that reeks of ages long gone, values forgotten in favor of boldness and assertiveness, and somehow she can't help but feel a shudder down her spine at the thought of having some one there at the end of the day and in the middle of the night, a warm body to nuzzle with and a hand to grab onto and a shoulder to cry.
Care has the musty aroma one would find in old books, seldom used and long forgotten in a library and yet, her mind is filled with the images it beckons; warm night and parks at nights, sunny beaches and fresh water slides; fires made to ward off the coldness as she shakes because of it only for him to come behind her and wrap her in a blanket and hold her to him and mutter they'll be all right.
Care challenges her to worry for those that might be too far gone, ready to let go of it all; it makes her feel she has to do something and it pains her to see she can't and it's a never ending battle fought against the eternal tune of their own despair, and love dares her to care for the people on the edge of the night, just a breath away from jumping into the night.
She hates love because love will challenge her way of caring about others; care will defy her way of loving them.
This is her last chance, their last dance, this is themselves battling against the never ending tides, and the wounds so strong and the mountains so high and this is themselves never giving an inch under the pressure of being themselves.
And as she sees him sleeping so peacefully at night, she can't help but weep for him and for her, because she knows... she just knows she has lost this battle she wasn't even aware she had been fighting against herself and it scares her to think that maybe her weaker self has won.
She hates to love him.
But when she sees him breath out her name in his sleep and her heart tells her that it's the strongest one in herself... the one who has been able to fight off the demons within and that she is right where she belongs, and that this is a reason to live and to fight on and she sees him smile in his sleep, she is not so sure she can keep on pretending she hates it for long.
She loves to hate him.
In accepting death, I must now measure what my life was…
It's just so easy for her now, that really, it's a pleasure. She sees him there, crouching, trying to fall into himself and she can't help but snicker wickedly at him, a demented, deafening laugh that seems to echo on her breast and she can't do anything but smile as she sees him try to delude himself into thinking he is worth something more than spit for anybody here.
Because early on in her life, Asuka Langley Sohryu was faced with what molded her, what made her become. She saw her mother each passing day lose herself more and more, and she saw her father as he began to slowly fade away…
This is my will…
And she knew what kind of world this one was; a world that favored the strong over the weak, the ones who did over the ones who sat and waited to be delivered.
He is trembling, and it's so entertaining she smiles and licks her lips in anticipation of what is to come, like a cat about to sample delicious milk and cream brought exclusively for him. Because watching him suffer is her greatest pleasure, her only source of joy…
And yet…
She imagines what he will do once the inevitable happens, once she bests him, and subdues him, once she pummels him to the ground, once the invincible Shinji is nothing more than bones and flesh and tendons and sinew because HE DOES NOT DESERVE TO BE WHO HE IS and so she shivers in sickening anticipation of that.
But she knows the process in itself will be repeated over and over, and every time he will gain some little hope that will make the downfall feel that more satisfying and yet the thought of watching him be happy for just a flicker of a moment…
It makes her feel like shit, and his screams of rage and despair and utter terror sound different than usual to her ears.
She should feel content and full, but she can't. She can't let go, forever locked in an eternal battle of wills. And it's that face, the face he now sports, the face of fear and despair and of naked terror that consumes his soul….that is the face that looks best in Shinji Ikari's face.
Because if she can't live, he shouldn't live, and if she can't know happiness, then why should he?
And yet…
So stop…
It's hard.
So don't say anything…
She can't...
So don't leave me…
She wants to…
Please…
But it's so fucking hard.
Don't make me…
His words are breaking her, even if she tries to remain and endure and HOW THE HELL DOES HE PLAN TO CONTINUE GOING ON? WHY THE FUCK WOULD HE WANT TO KEEP ON?
And as she hears his reason, and as she watches him go, she can't help but feel a little bit of her chipping away, slowly breaking apart the façade and she hates him even more. She loathes him and despises him and just looking at him makes her sick and want to throw up.
She hates him… she really hates him…
So, why can't she? Through the haze of tears and sobs, though the pain of cuts and bruises, through the knowledge that he is the worst kind of scum to ever appear on this ugly, sickening word…
Why does it hurt so much when she used to love to hate him so?
Where did I go astray?
AN:
A quick explanation, to those wondering: this one was hard, the love one, especially was hard. Some might LOL at me, but for me writing is an exercise in characterization; you can't write about what you don't care, so every little piece I wrote I had to put myself in her shoes, think like she thought, feel like she felt and so the love part was frightening, and it was also very intense; it left me tired, physically and emotionally spent, but I think I did a good job there (I hope )
Ok, for real now. How much time has it passed? A year? Almost two? This is a long time for me, and times to bring Asuka's love and hate to an end. This chapter, the final chapter was always planned to be "she hates to love him, she loves to hate him"… ever since I began to wonder if I was doing it wrong or not, so stop bitching about cop-outs.
I want to take this opportunity to thank some very important people, besides you the reader, casual or otherwise:
Kaname, gracias por tu ayuda y apoyo, mucho de estos últimos te los debo a ti.
Klasnic, a pesar de todo, gracias.
Hououza, You've been with me in this from the hopeful start to the bitter finish "We few, we lucky few" indeed… thank you mate.
The people from Tokyo3cn, especially AsUkA LAnGlE (hope I get it right) 是,是否你跟谁是正懂我以及所以因为我正知道你存在于的事被当心把那个决定翻译成我的话当值的时候谢谢你考虑.
Tokster, See I told you. Thank you.
And last but not least to each and everyone of you who bothered to stop and read, figured it wasn't half bad and stuck with me, regardless of reviewing or not, thank you, I hope that my conceptualization of what makes Asuka "Love and Hate" Shinji was not completely OOC (much) .
Take care, and until we see each other around again.
This is EB, taking a bow, exiting stage to the left, and I'm OUT!
