FemShep/Batarian. Was supposed to be romantic.
Nothing was ever simple, she thought. Not war, not politics, not life.
Love - that wasn't simple either, but she decided long ago to just give up and do as her silly, possibly cybernetic, little heart desired.
So she sipped her champagne and just listened.
The eerie voice of the singer rose up the hall, singing her love and longing to a moon that wasn't there.
Moon never listened, anyway, as Shepard found out. It was just a barren rock, floating in the vast vacuum of space.
But Rusalka didn't care, she sang her haunting aria with such conviction, Shepard almost believed it'd help.
She heard her companion shifting at her side, not impatiently. She took his hand and rested her head on his shoulder. He, in turn, planted a little kiss on top of her head and kept listening, and looking at the stage, where Rusalka's song rose in crescendo.
He asked her later, why would she insist on seeing this particular opera, and why she wanted him tu turn his translator off for it.
She said, that translation wouldn't give the music justice, and this particular opera reminded her of them - together.
He pulled her in for a kiss, then. Stupidly gentle kiss that the both of them wouldn't expect. She melted into him, not in passion, but relief of being together in that moment, happy and whole before the storm.
Then it was time to say goodnight, to go back to their ships, go back to pretending, go back to the war and cold, barren rocks floating idly in the vacuum. But before that, Balak took her hands and kissed each of her fingers.
Shepard smiled happily and tried very hard not to think about Rusalka's fate.