Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

There's no real motivation behind this one other than to let off some creative steam. You have been warned.

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Apology

I'm selfish.

I'll be the first one to admit that I'm self-centered. Anyone who knows me will tell you just that, among other things, if I'm not around to hear it.

When I want something, I get it. Such was the life I had grown accustomed to over the years.

I just wish I had realized it sooner.

What I wanted was readily available to me, and all that I had to do was accept it. My pride, however, knows no bounds. I made no mistakes, he did. That's what I tell myself every night. It still hurts, but my life hasn't exactly been a box of chocolates.

That is, unless you're allergic to chocolate.

I don't know where the tears come from. I feel no sadness. I feel very little, actually. I can tell that it's cold and that I'm wet, but that's about it. Must be raining again.

He liked the rain, I remember. He'd sit by the window and look out at the city when it rained. Sometimes he'd stand out on the porch and just stare at the sky. They tell me he had a condition, but I disagree. You don't have to be out of your mind to appreciate the rain. The cold was a different story.

I remember the day quite well. My last memory of him. The image of him lying there, unmoving, his eyes shut. I remember touching his hand. It was cold. His cheeks were the same. His lips were no different.

I remember the floor of the bathroom, cold and hard. How long I laid there, I don't remember. Misato finally dragged me out. I would have wasted away in that room. Sometimes, I wish I had.

The tears in her eyes reminded me of that rainy day. Of how cold it was. Of how cold he was. That idiot.

I knew what I wanted. Getting it would be easy, I thought.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

We were alone that night, and I figured I'd try my luck with the boy. He couldn't resist. He'd been glancing at me all night, thinking I didn't see him. I did. Funny thing is, I didn't mind. I wanted him to stare at me. I gave him ample warning.

The surprised look on his face satisfied me. A kiss began it all. His dark eyes looked into mine, searching for answers to questions he would never ask. I wouldn't have answered them anyway. He knew me well enough to figure it all out.

I was selfish. I got what I wanted. I took it without consent, but I got it.

He had given me what I wanted long ago. I was just too prideful to admit it, but I was thankful. We had come to an understanding.

But I had misunderstood.

No words were needed to express what we felt. I knew what I wanted and he knew what he wanted. I got what I wanted. I thought he did as well.

I thought wrong.

Our relationship was an uneasy one. A single breath could topple what I had assumed was a pillar of trust that had developed between us. I'm not sure who exhaled, but it didn't matter. The damage had been done. I don't remember the exchange of words, but I remember yelling at him. I was lying, of course. I didn't hate him. I didn't regret everything we had found in each other. I didn't regret him coming to my rescue. I do, however, wish that he had done it again.

His crying kept me awake at night. It hurt me when he cried. He was strong though. He had changed, but he was still strong. He had opened up to me, and I was starting to do the same. I, however, needed time. He understood this, and remained patient. I guess I assume too much.

The way he looked at me during those sleepless nights as I called out his name, I'll never forget. I gave him complete control. I gave myself to him. He gave himself to me. I got what I wanted. I was sure he did too. I lost myself in him. He lost himself in me. I guess we never really did find each other in the end, when all was quiet.

The memories of those nights we shared together haunt me. Where the tears come from, I am not sure, but they flow all the same. My choked cries for help go unanswered. There is nobody to answer them. He had left long ago.

I remember that day quite well. It was raining. Did I mention that it was cold?

The note on his desk was addressed to me. It was a simple piece of paper. The words on the back, however, confuse me to this day.

"I'm sorry."

Two simple words. Two words that I'd never forget. Just like him. Plain on the outside, complex within. I thought I understood him.

I thought wrong.

He was long gone when I found him. The floor of the bathroom was cold. His body was still warm, as was the liquid that flowed from his wound. I remember it quite well.

I didn't scream. I didn't run from the sight before me. I did what I had been doing ever since we had found each other. I laid beside him and waited for the warmth of his embrace. The comfort never came. I never found him.

It was Misato who found us there. She said nothing. All I remember is our guardian on her knees, tears falling onto the two of us. They were warm.

Only later was I told that he had passed. Somehow, I knew this the moment I had found him on that floor, his wrist slit and his eyes shut. I didn't want to believe it. I wanted him back. I thought I would get what I wanted.

I'm the idiot. They say that it's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.

That's bullshit.

I would have been fine, had I not fallen for him. If I hadn't fallen in love with him, he'd probably still be here. I'd probably still be at the apartment with him. His presence would be enough right now.

I missed the simplest things he did. Cooking, cleaning, reminding me that we were late for school. I missed him saying my name. I missed him.

Unfortunately, I had brought about his untimely death. I had killed him. It might as well have been me holding the blade. In a sense, I had been.

I had gotten what I wanted, and then I lost it all.

I had gained everything and lost everything that had meant anything to me in the same month. Such is the life I live.

It would be over soon enough.

I kept that blade. The blade that had taken my love from me would reunite us. This was my only option. There was no second chance.

The feeling was liberating. The warmth of the liquid reminded me of him. The rain wasn't helping.

"I love you, Shinji Ikari."

I was sure of it. I could finally say to him what I had meant to tell him all along. If only I hadn't been too late. I had been selfish. I always was.

"I'm sorry."

I kissed the stone on which his name was inscribed. It was cold. So unlike him. I felt weak. There was no strength left in me. I fell to the ground.

It wouldn't be long before I was in his arms once more. The tears came again. I expected as much.

"I've missed you, Asuka."

I'm not sure where the voice came from, but I didn't care. It was his voice. It was him.

I felt him taking me into his arms. I had missed that. I felt his lips on mine. It was heavenly. The kiss was broken. He looked into my eyes, I looked into his. We both knew what the other wanted to say, but it had to be said anyway.

"I'm sorry."

I finally understood. I think he did too.

End.

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A/N: I didn't expect anything when I began this. I wasn't sure if I wanted to publish it or not, but I decided to go ahead and put it out there. I don't expect to write anything like it for quite a while. Personally, it felt a little too raw and misplaced (random). A reflection of my own darker emotions, I guess.

- Panda