Cornelia's figure was warm and soft. She was nestled against him. They had both lost pieces of themselves. It seemed that if they were close enough to each other, they would make a whole being again.
"Grief is funny, isn't it?" Cornelia asked softly, breaking the silence that had settled between them. "It shows us what we took for granted and what's sitting right in front of our faces."
"I was sorry to hear about Lelouch and Nunnally," Guilford said. He knew how she felt. There was nothing he could say that would ease Cornelia's grief. He hoped his presence did something to soothe her aching, the way she did for him.
"At least it gave me the ability to relate," she said, sighing sadly. Guilford drew her closer, kissing her neck.
"I wish you couldn't relate," he whispered. Cornelia turned and kissed his lips gently. The two lay in silence, holding each other. Guilford felt as though he could pass an eternity like this. When Cornelia was near, his pain was far away.
"It is one of the worst feelings, isn't it?" Cornelia mused. "It's funny ho w it affects us. Both of us are conditioned soldiers who understand that death is a part of life, yet sometimes it hits us the hardest." She sat up, placing her hands in her chin. "You would think that we would be used to this feeling," she sighed, tears brimming in her eyes.
"Princess," Guilford said, affected by Cornelia's tears more than he thought he would be. "You cannot expect-"
He was interrupted by Cornelia's short laugh. It was a dark laugh mixed with bitter tears. Cornelia pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'm not even in control of what I do anymore. I don't have control of my senses or emotions and I end up doing this," she sighed, cutting herself short.
Her words hit Guilford like a slap to the face. They stung, but at the same time, they brought him to his senses. What were they doing? Grief was no excuse. He was her knight. He was supposed to protect her, not sleep with her. Yet, as he came to that realization, his heart hurt even more. Cornelia had always been something he wanted, and now she was pushing him away. Perhaps she didn't feel the same way about him.
"Princess, I-" he started, but stopped himself. The best thing for the both of them was to forget this ever happened. There would be serious consequences for Guilford, if not for Cornelia as well, were anyone to discover what had happened.
"Forgive me," he said, briskly. He slipped on a cool demeanor. "I forgot my place. I assure you it won't happen again."
Cornelia sat, staring off into space, as Guilford slid back into his pants. He exited the room, moving to stand at the balcony. The sun was just starting to rise, splashing vibrant colors across the cool blue morning sky.
He was going to try to forget, honestly he was. Would visions of Cornelia plague him for the rest of his life? He shut his eyes tightly and rubbed his eyes, as though that action alone would remove his Princess' visage from his mind. He made a mistake. He loved Cornelia, but he should have known they were both vulnerable. He shouldn't have done anything.
"Guilford?" He turned at the sound of his name. Cornelia was standing in the doorway, her arms folded, but her expression soft. Her hair was still in shambles, and her uniform was hanging loosely on her frame.
"Yes, Princess?" he asked, still keeping his voice brisk and calm. She walked toward him, keeping her eyes on the ground. She didn't say anything for a moment, biting her lip.
"Guilford, I didn't mean-" She started. Guilford shook his head.
"But you were right," he said, still trying to mask his true feelings. "Grief is no excuse for my actions. All I can do is ask for your forgiveness. Please don't-" Guilford's confession was cut short by Cornelia's lips. They were gentle and soothing, bringing all of the emotions Guilford was trying to suppress to the surface.
"I didn't know what I was saying," she said, smiling. "I'm not sure I know much anymore, but I do know I love you, Guilford." Her words were soft, but they were the most powerful and beautiful words Guilford had heard in his life.