The streets leading to the palace that late afternoon were teeming with security; men and women clad in black from head to toe fussing about. Endless checks were being done to ensure the security of the upcoming gathering tomorrow. Barricades and checkpoints were erected, the red carpet was rolled out. Soldiers on horses practiced their formation and a marching band was setting up their instruments on the other side of the road. Photographers were already camped by the pavement.
It was all the tabloids and online publications could talk about for weeks on end. Events like this has always been a chance for Orb to display its riches and power. There will be dancing, fine dining and mingling with influential people. Monarchs, heads of states, and presidents from the Americas to Scandinavia to Australia would be in attendance. It was one of the biggest nights in the political world.
"The streets are getting blocked off today, so that's a pain!" A blonde woman described as footage of workers clearing the road played on one half of the screen.
"Oh, it was awful this morning! I was nearly late for work today!" A brunette co-anchor agreed with a giggle. "But just think of all the glitz and the glamour!"
"Of course there's a running bet on who would claim our Queen's first dance," the third anchor pointed out. "That would make headlines for sure!"
The two other anchors giggled with her.
"Is this the ball where she meets her prince consort?"
"Ah, wouldn't that be romantic!"
"We are all at the edge of our seats for that! Now, up next—"
Cagalli switched off the monitor. What vacuous discussions, she thought, rolling her eyes. News was supposed to be important and factual. Since when was it about gossip and superficial entertainment?
She rested her chin on her palm, watching the crowd part as her entourage of black tinted cars drove past. She thought about the ball. She thought about what to say for small talk. All that mindless talk awaiting her, she thought. How tedious.
Her brows furrow in agitation. The thought alone was enough to curse her with a bad mood for days. But it was her duty. She had to wave and smile even if it killed her.
Upon arrival at the palace, Cagalli was escorted to her room and welcomed by a battalion of stylists and maids. As was the routine, she was told to sit still, told to close her eyes and purse her lips. Hands from all directions tugged and pressed her skin. Jewels were woven into hair, set in place by copious amounts of hairspray, all while she waited for her manicure to dry. She was drowning in glitter and layers of rich fabric. And at the end of it all, she was asked to twirl in front of a mirror, forced to say she thinks it all looks great, when who she saw in the mirror wasn't even someone she could recognize anymore.
The men wouldn't be able to resist her, her makeup artist said in passing. They'd all give up everything to claim her, said one of the maids. These were all supposed to be compliments. Yet all she could say in return was an exhausted thank you she didn't mean.
She sighed. And this was just a dressing rehearsal for the ball.
What a waste of time.
She hated nothing more than the idea of being packaged like a barbie doll. She was raised as a princess. She was supposed to be used to this already. But it was never something she could abide. To be treated like a thing, to be bartered off in married in exchange for political or status gain—it was depressing to think about. Then after she was married, no doubt the question of how soon she could produce an heir would be everyone's business. But she dreamed of family: a husband who she loves and children who didn't have to be whisked away from her by nannies and governesses.
Perhaps not in this life.
She had discussed it with Athrun once, she remembered. They were in bed, cozy under the covers when Athrun brought up ideas for the future. He said, after much stuttering and blushing, that he wanted to marry her quietly by the beach with just a handful of their friends, and then they would start a family. He said he wanted two kids, hopefully one boy and one girl. As simple as that. She laughed at him that night, surprised at how well he already planned their lives. When he asked her how many kids she wanted, she jokingly answered eight and they both burst into laughter.
How long has it been since she last managed to feel as carefree?
What did she run away from home for during the first war? What was the point of joining the Desert Dawn, disobeying her father every step of the way? Where did that woman go?
She gritted her teeth, cursing her sudden sensitivity. She thought she had gotten better at muting the voices in her head. Yet here they were again. In the end, despite the promising meeting they had that night in her room, she wasn't quite as forthcoming as she knew she ought to have been. Their last conversation scared her, and it reverberated in her head long after they had parted. It was getting harder to deny her feelings.
She cannot face him again, she knew that. A couple of weeks after she slipped and given permission for him to see her again, she hadn't allowed any vacancies in her schedule for that to ever happen. She couldn't risk another exposure. Not now.
Because then she might just give in.
"Ma'am," a senior staff interrupts her ruminating and hands her the phone.
She was just removing her accessories now that the fitting was over.
It was Kira.
"Hello?" She was surprised. Kira usually tries to reach her via her direct line. But perhaps he'd finally caught on that she was avoiding him. Calling through the palace office took so many transfers and holds but the chances of reaching her were higher.
"Hello, dear sister. Have you forgotten your poor brother?"
She sighed, a little bit annoyed but also quite relieved. He wasn't mad at her for their last conversation. She had been difficult lately but Kira's unwavering support meant the world. He was her only family left.
"No, I haven't. But I do have a country to run," She teased.
Kira chuckled. "Could I tempt you for an evening of relaxation at the villa then? Say, tomorrow?"
"You know for a fact I have a big event to attend tomorrow evening. Do consider watching the news, Kira," Cagalli frowned.
"No, I know about the state reception. I'm still asking you to come though." Kira begged over the phone. She could hear him pouting. And somehow, he insists he's the older twin, she thought. "And you can't say no!" He was quick to add.
She wasn't proud of how she shunned Kira. But he doesn't know the ways in which she contorted herself to fit the cage she was in. If Kira knew precisely the lies she has told, the underhand dealings she had to commit to—what would he think of her? Kira remained kind and true. His principles served as a guiding light and it burned brighter with Lacus' influence back in PLANT. Next to those two she couldn't help but feel ashamed of herself.
Once, looking out in the vastness of space onboard the Arcangel, Cagalli asked Kira: what if she had been given to Caridad, and Kira had been entrusted to her father instead? Would things have turned out for the better? Perhaps she would have been able to live a life in her own terms. She would still be rebellious. She could blaze her own trail. Kira was the smarter one. He would have flourished. As it was, her life broke her. She felt the unbelievable burden of Earth on her shoulders everyday when all she really wanted was a simple life. But then to that Kira replied: then they probably would've never met and she would not have met Athrun either.
She was subdued by the memory.
"I can't promise you I'll be available," Cagalli replied, massaging her temples and putting on an irritated tone though the truth was that hearing Kira's voice summoned a long-lost comfort back in her chest—a quiet warmth of being seen for who she was as a person, rather than just Orb's representative.
"You are as available as you want to be. You just have to make time for me," Kira disagreed.
"Fine. Maybe I'll sneak out a little early," she complained, but what she really meant to say was a thank you. "This whole week is fucking me over as it is and you're not helping, you know!"
Kira laughed. "Great! I'll be waiting so you better not stand me up."
"I guess I don't have a choice," she grumbled, but she was smiling. She at least had something to look forward to. "I have to go now. I'll see you."
xxx xxx xxx
Cagalli's goodbyes filtered out of Kira's phone speakers.
"Well, you heard her," Kira turned to Athrun after he dropped the call.
"This cannot be a good idea," Athrun frowned from the couch.
"It is. It's not like she asked if anyone else would be coming over." Kira had a devilish smile that reminded Athrun that Kira and Cagalli really are twins.
"It's still a lie of omission," he noted. It's not that he wasn't delighted at the prospect of meeting Cagalli again. He just hated feeling that she had to be manipulated into it. "Plus, I told you, I could just go see her. We've talked and—"
"I know, I know. But weeks after that talk, tell me, have you actually been able to go see her?" Kira interrupted.
"Well, she's busy and so am I—"
Kira raised an eyebrow.
"No," Athrun gave in.
"Well, there you go. She's still avoiding you and you're still walking on eggshells," Kira declared as he took a seat next to Athrun. He handed him a can of beer and opened one for himself. "Cheers. You'll get to see her tomorrow, and I get to see both of you. I say it's a win for everyone."
Athrun drank a few gulps before running his fingers through his hair nervously. While Athrun's last encounter with Cagalli showed some promise, the lack of follow through burned a hole through his already fragile confidence.
"I'm afraid," Athrun blurted, his voice low. Kira nodded, gesturing for him to continue.
"You know I set out to be here because I decided I would reinvent myself. I'm just so fed up—always feeling like I'm running away from something," Athrun continued. "I had it all planned out in my head like I always do—how things ought to be and how it'll all fall into place. I set it all up. But—" Athrun's voice trails away. Even saying her name these days felt too precarious that if he spoke it out loud she would disappear. He paused, battling feelings of self-consciousness. He felt silly, opening up about such matters, hearing the words verbalized.
"But have I really stopped running away? Have I really become the man I wanted to be? As it is, nothing has changed. Athrun Zala or Alex Dino—nothing has changed at all. I'm still as useless here as I've always been. A nobody. At best, a novelty," He continued, for a moment forgetting that Kira was sitting right next to him.
"I always thought that the thing I'm most afraid of is her anger. But now that I'm here, I realize now that what I'm afraid of the most is her rejection, her indifference—to find that she has moved on."
He didn't even want to bring up the suspicions involving Shinn. That was another can of worms that he was scared to open.
"And if so then I'm not sure what else I can do," Athrun concluded. He wore pain on his face, and it settled there like skin.
Kira turned to face his best friend and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Then you should tell her that," he advised with a small smile. "All of it."
xxx xxx xxx
The hall was blinding to look at. Jewels scintillated under rows of chandeliers, and crystal champagne glasses swung around on silver trays as footmen ferried them to and fro. The marble floor shone interrupted only by long gowns that swept across the room as the dancing began. On stage, a full orchestra played a romantic waltz.
When the first dance was concluded and applause filled the room, Cagalli seized the chance to excuse herself. Everyone was distracted and this would be the most opportune moment to make a move.
"Won't you dance the next waltz with me, your majesty?"
"The next one is a favorite of the President of Mexico! Perhaps a dance with him?"
"Ma'am, the Duke of Earlham was hoping for a chat in the drawing room, if you please."
She was offered all manners of propositions on her way out, to which her only shield were vague promises she would come back soon. For better or worse, in the world of politics, people never really said what they truly thought. Deference and backhanded politeness was the name of the game. Outwardly expressing desires and objections was considered uncouth. That worked to her advantage that night. If they were offended by her noncommittal answers, then that would be tomorrow's problem. That night she was determined to take back a little bit of who she used to be.
She excused herself for a quick breather out in the balcony, and when she was sure she was in the clear, she jumped over the railing and ran for the car waiting for her. It would be a colossal problem explaining herself in the morning to the palace staff and her poor driver would no doubt get in trouble, but she decided it would be worth it for some time to get away, if only for one night.
It was late in the evening by the time she got there, almost midnight.
"Kira, I'm here," Cagalli let herself inside the villa's entryway. Disappearing like that at a state function was not ideal. The only thing she could do was trust that Kisaka could hold down the fort and prevent her protection officers from hunting her down.
Kira didn't answer but the lights were still on. She figured if Kira were already asleep, she would just wake him up. But as she made her way into the living room, she found Kira drunkenly draped on the couch while Athrun sat on the carpeted floor browsing articles on a tablet.
"Oh," Cagalli didn't mean to let that out so loudly.
Athrun tried not to let her reaction affect him so much but it stung to know he elicits disappointment to her now instead of joy.
"Sorry, Kira asked me to come. I don't think he told you I'd be here." He clenched his jaw, he felt like it might shatter into pieces.
For a moment Cagalli didn't know what to do—one foot inside the room and the other ready to bolt out the door.
"No, it's okay. I don't mind," she said knowing that what just came out of her mouth has to at least be partially untrue. Because of course, she cared that he was right there—her Achilles heel. Of course she cared that she might actually just fall into him that night and for the life of her, she might not ever know how to say no to him again.
It became clear to her instantly what Kira's intentions were in inviting her over. If he were awake now, she thought, he would have the goofiest smile all across his face. But for some reason, she also couldn't bring herself to be angry.
She stood still looking down at him, while he sat there looking up at her. They were frozen, the few feet of distance between them loaded with tension, the hands of the clock ticking away, getting louder and louder.
But just before the silence spiraled further into discomfort, Kira moaned loudly all of a sudden, mumbled a few syllables of gibberish, and settled right back to a soft snore. Needless to say, the unexpected interruption punctured through the thick atmosphere brewing in the living room. And whether or not Kira knew it then, he had in fact saved the moment. The pretenses fell. Cagalli, caught off guard, let out a laugh. It didn't take long for Athrun to join in.
Cagalli tried to hush her snickering by covering her mouth as she made her way towards Kira but the smile was still painted on her face. "What is wrong with him?"
"He was only supposed to drink beer, but then he got carried away and busted out the tequila. I told him he'll regret it in the morning but, oh well."
"He didn't listen?"
"No, I'm afraid not," Athrun smiles. He would have to make it up to Kira somehow, he thought.
"Well I suppose I better not wake him up," Cagalli sighed sitting on the couch.
Athrun sensed the awkward silence settling back in. Before he missed his chance, he took a moment to be brave.
"Would you like to go take a stroll by the beach?"
He worried for a moment that he was being too bold. After all, Cagalli didn't reply right away. Perhaps he was pushing his luck, he thought. But it was now or never. And to his delight, she replied with what seemed like a hint of pink on her cheeks: "Sure."
xxx xxx xxx
"You look beautiful," Athrun felt like an infatuated teenager, blushing to high heavens.
Cagalli was still in her finery, unable to change into something more casual in her pursuit of escape from the night's event.
"Well, thank you. All the credit to my stylists for putting up with me," she responded. But the beauty he was referring to had little to do with what she wore that night.
Perhaps it was the smell of the ocean, or the serenity of being under the night sky, but she found calm inside her for the first time in a while. She couldn't help it anymore. She had been exhausted with no fight left in her to pretend to be someone else. And as always, it was him who broke her fall.
They strolled along the shore. Cagalli pulled her dress up so her feet could feel the water and Athrun offered to hold her heels for her. The two of them alone like this, together, it felt right, she thought. Yet the parting, she understood, would inevitably have to come too. To say hello meant having to say goodbye.
"You should know," Cagalli spoke with a gentle tone he hadn't heard from her in a while. "Nothing has changed, except perhaps that I'm running out of time."
Athrun nodded, his face falling into a contemplation. He understood she alluded to her position as a head of state, the necessity of an arranged marriage.
"I understand," he said.
"But you don't accept it." She replied swiftly with the uncanny brand of self-deprecation she seemed to have acquired while he was away. She never used to do so. Athrun always thought of her as a confident and bright young woman. But it was evident how life chipped away at that. It made him feel worse to know he had contributed to that for just a few good moments of spite and revenge.
"I accept that it's what you must do for your people," he replied solemnly. He wasn't just saying that. He meant it. If he loved her truly, he must love her people too. His love cannot be as selfish as it once was if he wanted a future with her. And though he reached this understanding now, he regretted not having learned it sooner.
Athrun took a few steps ahead of her before noticing that Cagalli had stopped walking. He looked back to find her golden eyes illuminated by the full moon.
"Have you chosen your groom?" He asked, cautiously, afraid of what her answer would be. But he needed to ask.
"No," she smiled bitterly. "But no one is happy that I have been putting it off for as long as I have."
"Good," Athrun had the same expression on his face. He wanted to touch her badly.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I think you know exactly what I mean."
"I don't understand why you still bother, if you mean you're still here to pursue me," she began to walk again. "The world is your oyster, you know."
"I told you, didn't I?" Athrun smiled. A sweet kind, this time around. "I'm here for you."
"I swear I don't rightly understand."
"This is the hill I'm choosing to die on." Athrun tried to lighten the mood again but he meant every word.
"Careful, Zala. Or you'll die on that so-called hill of yours a miserable bachelor," Cagalli teased.
It was the first time they had shared fun like this in a long while, Athrun thought. He almost extended his free hand to hold Cagalli's, just like he used to. But instead he slid his hand in his pocket instead. He couldn't risk breaking down her walls if she still felt she needed to keep them up. He wanted to respect that.
"You know I mean it," he replied.
"You're too young to be declaring things like that," she chastised him, though her tone was sober. She recognized that about everyone around her now. Her life was over even as she still lived it. Her life followed a timeline decided by old men in suits while everyone else agonized over the infinite choices available to them. Was it wrong of her to envy the world?
"You talk as if you're much older than I am," Athrun replied.
"My life isn't mine to live. It never was."
Athrun thought about how Cagalli had saved his life during the first war and how little he could do now to save hers. It was embittering to love someone so much yet be rendered powerless anyway. He wished he could change her circumstances. He wished he could give her the freedom she ought to have a right to. Yet all he could do was love her. And if loving her was all he could do, then he decided he would love her with all he had.
He took a deep breath. "Listen, I don't care. It could take forever to work this out, I know. But I'll live every moment of that forever setting things right."
"What do you even expect me to reply to that," Cagalli's voice gave away to the hurt inside of her.
"You don't have to respond. I just want you to know that I won't give up on you."
"I'm way too flawed for that kind of devotion."
"I don't need perfection. I just need your honesty."
"I don't think it does anyone any favors for me to be honest anymore," Cagalli retorted. "It doesn't have a place in the world I live in—honesty I mean."
It pained Athrun to hear her talk so cynically.
"Because if I'm being honest, Athrun, if I could have my way, I wouldn't give up on you too," she continued, fully aware she was now venturing onto dangerous territory. Her defenses were unraveling.
"Then be honest and let me know exactly what you mean, without holding back," Athrun replied. Tell me you love me still, he continued in his head. He yearned to hear those words from her lips again. He felt a dull ache in his chest.
She didn't reply but when he looked her way, there were tears falling quietly falling from her eyes.
xxx xxx xxx
The two of them walked for little while longer, immersed in the silence between them. Only the waves spoke, and the stars were their witnesses. The train of Cagalli's gown was soaked in saltwater, with sand clinging onto it as she dragged it on along the shore. The hand that Athrun hid in his pocket was beginning to sweat with the humid Orb weather.
"I should head back to the palace," Cagalli said, looking up to smile at Athrun. It might be the last look she gets of his face for a while. She wanted just one thing of his to keep if she could—just a small memory of that night.
But he too ached to hold on to each passing second, unable to break apart from her.
"Let me take you home," Athrun offered.
"Alright," she replied.
The two of them made their way back to Athrun's car. When the sand ended and the paved brick road began, Athrun paused to give Cagalli back her shoes. She slid them back on as she held on to Athrun's arm. Their limbs knew where to be. It was utomatic, operating on instinct. He opened the car door for her, and when she got inside, she lifted up the sun visor because she knew he always forgot to do so at night. The way his body reacted to hers, the way she in turn flows along with him—they were in sync. They've got each other down to a science.
Cagalli smelled the inside of Athrun's car and thought to herself how nostalgic it felt. He still used the same car freshener. Sat there in the passenger seat, she felt transported to a time she had long stowed away in boxes and hidden away in the attic of her heart. The sight of Athrun driving, the way he was always smooth with the break, the sensation of the leather seat cover against her skin—it reminded her of everything she once had. And for once she listened to the small voice at the back of her head that could no longer be suppressed: I want this all back.
Athrun eyed Cagalli from his periphery. The ride was silent, but a craving cried inside him louder than it ever had before. Perhaps it was in the way the moonlight lit her eyes or the way her blonde hair shone like golden thread. He found himself rediscovering new ways to appreciate her beauty as if it was possible to admire her more than he already did.
At the end of their drive back, he got out to open the door for her. She knew he would, so she waited for him to do so. And when she got out of the car, it was a familiar comfort to feel him walking right next to her. He walked her up to her room without asking if he could. And she hadn't protested when he led them thought the backdoor that he always used to sneak into her room at night.
Right at the cusp of parting, standing by the doorway, something pulled them right back together; a determination to no longer be on opposing sides of a closed door.
It was wordless the way it all happened.
He kissed her; just one short peck. But he kissed her again and she let him. One kiss after the other, deeper and deeper they fall into each other—a cascade of touch.
He remembered their first.
The innocence of that first kiss, he thought, now irretrievable, now lost to time and past selves. Chaotic as it was, battle raging on around them, it had been a simpler time. I love you was as innocent as it could be between two individuals. I will protect you meant exactly as it did.
Athrun and Cagalli had become too complex. The two of them were cursed, arrested by the anticipation of almost—almost there, almost complete, almost forever. It was always one step forward, two steps back. But tonight, they would dance. Even if the room burned around them, even if the morning proved lonely, all that mattered was their skin touching and the dark would hide the rest of the world for now.
She felt her body move without much thought. It was right there in the way her arms wrapped around Athrun's neck, the way her hands ran down his chest to unbutton his shirt. They were on her bed before long. The day and the hour, the year, the place—it all lost its meaning before his body. This was surrender—a white flag waved by her aching heart. She let it win for now, if only to catch a moment's reprieve. And as for the heart break that will come at the end of the night, well, the morning could take care of it later, she thought.
Athrun ran his fingers through Cagalli's now loosely done hair. He undressed her hastily, impatient under the mercy of his desire. He kissed her neck down to her chest, realizing that she still wore the same perfume he had picked for her some years ago.
There was so much he wanted to tell her. He wanted her to feel safe with him. He wanted her to take the leap with him. He declared the I love you, the I'm yours forever, the I'm never going to leave you with his hands all over her body. That night, he loved her in the way only he could, hoping she would be reminded of how good it could be.
For however long that night lasted, there remained an understanding of reckless abandon. He touched her where she enjoyed it the most and she kept his heart beating fast. She closed her eyes as she felt each of his kisses falling on her skin like rain. And when she pleasured him, he felt shivers trail his spine. He whispered in her ears how he loves her, and she called his name in a voice with the deepest colors of hunger. Just like that, they found their way back home.
Their hands knew where to be, joined together as he moved on top of her. His midnight blue strands falling on her face like shooting stars—there was never much else she asked for whenever he held her. There was a rhythm to the way they received each other, a driving arpeggio. It was ecstasy.
They were the only two people in the universe that night. They crossed the bridge they had been stranded at for a while. Where it led, after all is said and done, they still didn't know.
xxx xxx xxx
"Were you ever with other girls while you were away?" Cagalli asked quietly. She was laying on her back, staring at the ceiling. They still haven't dressed. "I mean I don't mind. It's not like I have a right to have a say. I mean, I'm asking just out of curiosity."
Athrun turns to his side to look at Cagalli. "No. It didn't even cross my mind."
"I see."
"Were you?" Athrun asked back unsure if such talk would be the appropriate topic after having just made passionate love. But his curiosity was piqued.
"Yes."
"Ah," Athrun responded with an automatic expression of acknowledgement but feeling immediately let down. It was an unexpected confession.
"I don't mean then," Cagalli clarified. "I mean after the war. I did—I mean I am—was." She shook her head. That business was over.
Athrun thought for a bit.
"Was it serious then?"
"No," she responded. She kept it curt because she didn't want to make excuses. She was trying her best to be herself around Athrun. It was like learning how to walk again. "There weren't supposed to be any feelings attached."
"You know you should say that before sleeping with someone, not after," Athrun teased trying to cover up his bruised ego. He tried to slip his arm around her waist to pull her closer, but he sensed her flinch ever so slightly. He recoiled.
The smallest movements—the strongest blows.
She didn't say anything for a while, the magnitude of her shame was dawning on her. Having had a taste of truth again, she wondered why she was so adamant to replace it with lust and lies. It was all just a distraction, self-medication. What they just shared that night reminded her of everything. In that moment she realized all the love that could be if it's with Athrun, and all that could never be if it's with another.
"I appreciate you telling me. And I suppose I should be happy," Athrun continued, trying to make a show of the forgiveness he knew Cagalli might need to hear from him. "Because if you're coming clean about the other guy, then you won't sleep with him again anymore, will you?"
Silence.
"Is it Shinn?"
More silence.
"Ah," he said surprised at how bitter it sounded when it escaped his mouth.
"You should thank him. He was the one who convinced me to meet with you again that night I asked you to come over."
"I see," the thought of owing Shinn favors felt nauseating. Owing someone who had been sleeping with the person you love felt like torture, and she dangled it on his face like it was nothing.
"Did he convince you to do that while in bed?"
That was foul. He knew it as soon as he spoke it—instant regret.
"You're not being fair," Cagalli replied, projecting her annoyance. "We haven't been together in however long."
He scratched his head, irritated at himself over how volatile his reaction had been all after claiming he would understand her better now. It just hurt. The thought of Cagalli with another hurt a lot more than he thought it ever would.
"I'm sorry," he said as he grabbed Cagalli's hand. She held it only for a second before she slips it off his grip to sit up.
"I can't give you anything Athrun. That was the deal with the other guy," Cagalli said rather uncomfortably, careful not to utter Shinn's name. "It's not complicated. It doesn't mean anything. But this arrangement—it's different. And I think we need a clean break before the mess gets even bigger. This is why I've been avoiding you—"
"Why you push me away?" Athrun interjected. This was starting to hurt more than he cared to admit. "And what do you mean our 'arrangement?' Why are you talking like this is just some fling?"
"You know I would be lying if I told you we could just go back to being together after tonight."
"And I told you I'm going to fight for you anyway—"
"You don't know what you're saying."
"I do," he declared, resolutely, like he's never been more sure of anything in his life.
For a while there was only silence. But it wasn't empty. The air was ripe with words unspoken.
"Do you not want me to fight for you anymore?" He asked the question he feared most. And when she didn't reply, he continued. "You're not making sense, Cagalli. You're not making sense at all. I love you, you know. I fucking love you. And I know you love me too. I know because you've just showed me tonight even if you won't say it."
"I do love you," she blurted, angry and passionate and lonesome all at once. "There, I said it. Now, did anything change? Did our situation improve? Have I now magically been released from my obligations to this country? No. Nothing has changed. I'm still unable to be with you no matter how much I still love you."
Cagalli glared at Athrun for a while before her expression softens to a mellow frown. "So, what more do you want from me? What else could we possibly do?"
That seemed to be the question they keep coming back to. Love had never been enough. It meant so much yet so little all at once, she lamented. Once she believed it was all she needed. Now she wished she never knew it at all. It hurt when she had nowhere to put it—no home where it could stay and see the light of day; free to breathe and live. This was why she tried her best to stop feeling. The pain was unlike any other.
"I'm sorry," he said, somber.
"No, I'm sorry," she replied before abruptly lying back down with her back turned against him.
He wanted to kiss her good night, but she'd shunned him now. At a loss for words, he too turned to his side to face the opposite direction.
"Good night," he said. She kept her silence.
Athrun didn't hear her a word from her anymore that night, but he felt her back touch his before he drifted off to sleep.