Author's Note: I do not own Gundam Seed and/or Gundam Seed Destiny.

The Runaway Princess
Part III

The morning sun was barely up, just sort of whispering off in the distance, when its first glorious rays broke over the hills of the tiny little coastal town and forced its way into her room, through the gap in the curtains that were pulled back. She desperately wished with all her might that it would go away, because this had been the first time in years that she had been allowed to sleep in past six 'o'clock and she refused to move from her place under the covers just yet, even going as far as to childishly tug onto it tighter as if that would somehow be enough to stop the gradual advance of the blindingly bright light. However, the sun was extremely determined nonetheless, and its warm rays did not stop its slow and steady path that was progressively making its way across the foot of her bed until it spread to her sheets and eventually bathed her face entirely, casting a soft ethereal glow over her body and rousing her from a peaceful slumber.

With a tired groan, she lazily rolls over so that her back was now facing the intrusive sunlight, sighing contently as she nestled deeper into the bed. In fact, she probably would have been able to easily drift back to sleep and return to her pleasant dreaming of traveling in far away foreign lands once more, had it not been for the mouth-watering smell of sizzling fried bacon that managed to enter the room and her rumbling stomach that now kept her wide awake. Pushing away the cocoon of scratchy quilted blankets and huge feathery pillows that engulfed her, the young blonde finally rises, blinking away the heavy weight of sleep still present in her eyes. Gingerly, she yawns and stretches her sore, tender, aching muscles, raising both of her slim arms all the way above her head before she abruptly kicks back the sheets and gets up, dragging her long, lean legs off of the mattress.

Now that she's up, she tugs down on the oversized t-shirt she was wearing, lowering the hemline as much as she could in an attempt to preserve her modesty, as she follows that enticing scent and walks across the room. The door opens almost silently and she sees that the boy from the night before is no longer sleeping as there's a blanket that's been neatly folded and left on the couch. That's when she spots him in the kitchen, the area where the fantastic smell is originating, though he's too focused on cooking to notice that she's emerged from his bedroom. "Athrun?" She calls out, somewhat shyly and uncertain.

Upon hearing her voice, he smoothly pivoted on the ball of his heel to face her. The old gas stove that he was slaving over had left his face in a flush of red and beads of sweat were starting to trickle down his slightly damp forehead, but even though she would never actually say it out loud in a million years, she thought that he still managed to look kind of handsome with that broad smile of his that was directed her way. "Hey, Cagalli. You're up pretty early," He greets cheerily, smiling sweetly as he momentarily pauses from masterfully flipping pancakes.

She smiles back at him, the nervousness she had felt mere moments earlier beginning to dissipate as he effortlessly puts her to ease and she laughs. "I know. Trust me, I was surprised too." Glancing over at the clock that was above his head, she adds, "So how about you? What are you doing up at six thirty this fine morning?"

"I'm actually always up around this time, I'm an early riser. And I was hungry. But uh...please. Take a seat. I promise breakfast will be served in just a moment." He motions towards the small wooden table meant for two in the middle of the room with his only free hand and she listens to him, pulling one of the chairs back and seating herself down. He turns back around and picks up a spatula that was lying on the counter to help pile a generous helping of chocolate chip pancakes on to two different plates that each already held some delicious looking scrambled eggs, fried bacon, and toasted bread with butter. Once he's done, he grabs those two plates along with some necessary utensils. "Dig in before it colds," He suggests, setting down one in front of her and the other on the opposite side of the table, where he would presumably sit, and she's impressed by how great the meal looks. "Would you like some tea to drink as well?" He asks.

She nods, appreciative. "Yes, please and thank you." And then she watches silently as he takes out a pair of old mugs, fills them up with hot water from the kettle that had been simmering on the stove, and trifles through his cabinets, looking high and low for a pack of tea bags. From her spot, she can see that his hair is slightly messy and just a little wet from the shower he had taken earlier while she was still sleeping; his flannel pajama bottoms are wrinkled from having spent a night on the couch and are riding low on his hips; and the plain grey t-shirt he wears does little to conceal the hard flat planes of his subtle but toned muscles as he reaches the top shelf. She feels her cheeks burn with embarrassment at once - she's never looked at anyone like this before; let alone a member of the opposite sex - and so she bows her head down and tries to concentrate on her plate instead, sinking into the fluffy pancakes with her fork and knife with a little too much vigor and gulping the pieces she's cut up far too quickly.

"Here's your Darjeeling tea," Athrun announces, before handing her one of the mugs and sitting down next to her with his own.

She looks at him in surprise but accepts it anyways. "Thank you. Again. I really am grateful for all the nice things you've been doing for me..."

"Don't worry about it." He starts eating his own meal and in between grabbing another mouthful of bacon, he asks her, "I hope your first night was all right. Did you sleep well?"

"Very," She answers, as sips her flavoured tea and his attention returns to his plate. "...And you?" She asks, trying her best to maintain the conversation, even though she already knew sleeping on the couch must not have been that much of a comfortable experience at all.

"Very," He responds, playfully mimicking her, the skin around his eyes crinkling adorably with the effort of a smile. He then puts down his knife and fork, and looks at her, his expression suddenly having turned serious. "You know, it just crossed my mind... we're going to be living with each other for the next little while, but we're don't really know much about the other, do we? I mean I know your name and you know mine, but other than that? Nothing."

She nods, placing her fork down as well. "Okay. What do you want to know?"

"It'd probably be best to start off with the basics...like what's your favourite colour?"

She thinks about it for a moment. "I would have to say green. Definitely green, like the forest. My parent's house has a forest - I mean, there happened to be a forest behind our house, and I love spending time there, especially when I was growing up and needed some time to clear my head." She makes a mental note to be careful of what she says in front of him from now on, to not mention anything that could hint at how wealthy or powerful her family really was or how grand their estate was. Fortunately enough, though, he didn't notice her slip up and so she continues before he can. "How about you, Athrun?"

He answers without having to think about it. "Yellow."

"Like the sun?"

"No, not like that," He responds. "There are these dandelions that grow underneath the porch of this house every summer without fail. And they're this bright yellow that for some reason has always reminded me of rebirth - the fact that a new season was coming, that flowers would be blooming again despite the harsh gloomy winter that had come before it." He shakes his head and he gives a short, mirthless life. "I know what you're thinking. Stupid, right?"

"No, actually. I think that's quite beautiful." She says softly and she's not just practicing the proper etiquette and politeness that had been drilled into her head since before other kids even knew how to walk and talk. It's the truth, pure and unfiltered, and he can tell from the sincere look that she has plastered all over her face.

There's a strange silence that ensues for a few seconds, as her amber eyes lock on to a pair of emeralds, and he clears his throat uncomfortably, deciding to probe her further instead of seeing where it might lead. "Do you have any siblings?"

"Nope. Not a single one."

"Me neither," He says, offering another nugget of information about himself that she'll keep stored in her mind. "What do your parents do?"

"They're in..." She stops and she's pretty sure that she doesn't want to lie to him, but she also knows that she definitely cannot be honest. So she decides to stretch the truth. "I suppose you could say that my parents are in public relations."

He raises an eyebrow up curiously. "Wow, impressive. And are you going to follow in that path one day?"

"There was never any question about that." She says, and he wonders if he detects a trace of sadness in her voice. "What's your favorite place in the world?"

"Where I am right now. I've always loved this town," He responds. "What was your favourite subject in school?"

"Social studies?" She answered unsurely; she never was good at being decisive. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-one; though I'll be twenty two in a few weeks. Now what are your thoughts on recent events? The wars? The military? Any hope for world peace?"

She snorted. "Let's see...I think that the scandal involving the member of parliament and his secretary was absolutely appalling; I detest war; and although I dream about world peace as much as the next person, I sometimes think we'll always be doomed to fight over something. Sometimes it feels like all humans are fickle, stupid beings with poor memories, a knack for repeating past mistakes, and a surprisingly great gift for self destruction."

He laughed at that one. She was clearly smart and well kept up, too, and she intrigued him to say the least. Yet he wasn't expecting her next question and it manages to take him by surprise. "Athrun," She began inquisitively, "Why is it that you live all the way out here by yourself, away from everyone else? Don't you ever miss your family and your loved one?"

She can tell she must have hit a sensitive spot, even though his face doesn't betray any emotion, because his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes like the other ones did. "Oh, it's a very long and uninteresting story that I don't want to bore you with. But I can tell you that it's really not that bad here; the solitude and the locals are nice, and it was a great change from the city." He then skilfully changes the topic and while though she knows he's doing it, she lets him, deciding to not push the matter any further. "Now tell me, what do you do for fun?"

"Fun?" She repeats out loud, almost confused. As if the word was alien to her, some sort of abstract concept or theory.

"Yes, for fun," He repeats himself again, finding that he's amused by the peculiar blonde's response. " You know... fun. Enjoyment, entertainment, leisure, general light-hearted pleasure."

Cagalli pauses, trying to think of something equally interesting or clever to say to him in return, but a thoughtful frown furrows at her brow. "I don't really know,
She says honestly. "Most of my life, I've never had any free time to myself to do any of the things that I wanted to do. And I guess I haven't had much time to think about 'fun' for a while either."

"Well that's simply unacceptable," He declares. "We're just going to have to fix that by making sure that you have the best time of your life while you are here. But in the meantime, maybe we should finish our breakfast and go find you some clothes upstairs first?"

She grins, brimming with happiness. "That sounds perfect."

Once they're done eating breakfast and learning more about each other, like their favourite music and sports or hobbies, he dumps their dirty dishes into the sink, promising to return to them later, and tells her that they're going up the attic. She merely nodded and he leads the way while she followed obediently. Frankly, she was glad that she was behind him, because she's suddenly aware of just how little she's wearing and she feels embarrassed, particularly since he's a boy and the only ones to have seen her in such an exposed state were her parents, her governess, and a handful of female servants.

"It's up there." He says as he points to the ladder to the attic that's in the ceiling and pulls it down so that they can climb up it, the wood creaking with each and every step they took. When they're finally up, she's immediately surprised at how unlike the rest of the house the attic is. It's incredibly messy and disorganized, with its various cobwebs and thick coat of dust and an extensive collection of stuff - from old letters, toys, and rickety furniture from a decade earlier that had never been fixed, all the way to prized pictures, out of date history books and encyclopaedias, tea sets and paintings, dishes, and boxes - that almost filled up the entire cramped space and made it impossible to move about freely.

"Let's get searching for the box with all the old clothes in it, ok?" He proposes and she agrees. and so they spent the next half hour going through the various boxes in the attic. Some of them are neatly labelled in block writing in clear black ink (like Lenore's letters, Patrick' books, or family videos), while others don't even say what they contain. She thought that those were the ones that she enjoyed going through the most, as they promised at the very least the element of surprise, even if they only contained old shoes with no partners or broken china dolls.

They continue their hunt through the depths of the attic and it's actually kind of enjoyable. While they riffle through everything, their hands occasionally brush over each other every now and then for the briefest of seconds, soft skin is on even softer skin, before they quickly retract them and move on to different areas. ,He personally tries to busy himself by staying on task, by pulling out the various things in his way, like over sized beach hats, old teddy bears, and other insignificant items, without a second thought and he eventually succeeds when he reaches the farthest corner of the attic. It's there that he sees a large rectangular white box and lifting up there cover, he calls out, "found it!"

She gets up and stops digging through the frail artefacts and forgotten treasures in the unmarked boxes so she can come over towards where he is. "You're a lot smaller and shorter than me so most of the stuff in here is too large for you," Athrun explains, as he rummages through the shirts and the jeans in the container. "However, luckily for you, I have some stuff in here from when I was twelve that might fit." He takes a handful of the smallest items of clothing, and he passes them to her. "Here. Try it on. I won't look, I promise."

True to his word, he turns around while she tries on the clothes and doesn't even try to sneak a peek like many other individuals with questionable characters might have. And she takes off the over-sized t-shirt and discards it on the floor, as she puts on a different tee, along with a pair of dark wash pants. They were a bit loose around the hips and probably needed a belt to stay up all day, but they seemed to fit her petite frame well enough to work. "I'm done." She says enthusiastically, as she examined herself in front of the floor length mirror in the corner. "I love it! What do you think?" He turns back and simply stares at her, at a loss of words. "What? Is it really that bad?" She demands.

She doesn't look bad at all, particularly when he knows she manages to pull the outfit far better than he did when he was scrawny, pubescent teenage boy. "No. Of course not." He answers. "It's just...you. You're full of so many surprises. One minute you look like a princess that's stepped out of a fairytale and then next...you're here, wearing my clothes and are dressed like a twelve year boy. I assumed most rich girls would want nicer things."

She smiles, as she spins around and checks herself in the mirror again."Well I like to think I'm not like most rich girls," Cagalli corrects him as she looks at her reflection. It's then she realizes that he's partially right; right now, she is, in fact, a far cry from the image of perfection and flawless beauty that her governess had carefully cultivated for her for so many countless years. And yet she loved it, the way that her clothes were outrageously expensive designers brands and she wasn't stuck in some stupid dress that was so tight she could barely breathe in it. "Anyways, they're so comfortable! Can I keep them?" She exclaims excitedly.

He looked at her strangely. She had obviously behaved somewhat awkwardly from the moment they met, but he had never seen someone get so excited over a pair of hand-me-downs before in his life. Though it was hard to say no when she was looking at him like the way she currently was, her eyes warm and incredibly bright and glimmering with the most yellow amber. He hadn't noticed until then her eyes were also his favourite color.

"Sure, go ahead. It's not like I wear them anymore." He stuffs a bag full of his old clothes and other items, and gives it to her. "All those should fit you too..." He mumbles awkwardly and she peer inside, noticing there aren't only a handful of t-shirts and bottoms, but that it also contains a dozen or so simple white undergarments that were devoid of any frill or lace.

"Uh...Thank you." She stammered. They definitely would fit her well and it only makes her blush that much more.

In that instant, he decides not to show her any of the other clothing that he knows is up there. It seemed like she was not particularly interested in women's fashion and it would only be a waste of time anyways. Which was ironic considering that her and Cagalli were the same size and the blonde would have likely fit into her clothes perfectly; even if the two women were complete opposites in every other aspect, from the radical differences in eye color and hair to demeanor.

"Let's go back down, shall we?" Cagalli suggests. He's brought from his state of reverie and nods. "Let's," He agrees. And so they go back to the down ladder, getting ready for the infinite possibilities of the day they still have ahead of them.

Author's note: I apologize to anyone who feels like not much happened in this chapter. It was more for laying the groundwork of their relationship and a few other important themes (such as Athrun's refusal to talk about his family and the fact that he's previously been seriously involved with a woman, as well as the fact that she was quite different from our heroine). Anyways, I hope you all review, because it took me forever to write this and the next chapter will involve a drastic haircut and a trip to town where various characters will be introduced.