A Diary of Lacus Clyne

By Athrun Zala

Afterward

I was charged with writing an article about a more human side of Lacus Clyne. Honestly, this magazine - who knows why you're even reading it - made a very poor choice for this assignment. For a couple of reasons: mainly the aforementioned lack of writing ability, but also because from the beginning, Lacus Clyne was always something of a mystery to me. Although the biggest mystery of all was how did I end up engaged to the Lacus Clyne?

When we met and became friends at fourteen, our parents had already settled the arrangement between us. But then the world changed and tore everything we knew – our families, our relationship, even ourselves – everything was torn apart. My father ended our engagement years ago, the declaration just never made it into the official records.

But by then, I had already fallen in love with her. I'm sure that probably comes as no surprise to most people. Who doesn't love Lacus Clyne?

A fourteen year old boy angry with his father for deciding his life for him didn't love Lacus Clyne.

A fifteen year old soldier charged with 'rescuing' an idol from the enemy didn't love Lacus Clyne.

But a fifteen year old traitor and prisoner, bleeding from the gunshot wound his own father inflicted… It wasn't the first time she had saved me in some way. It was just the first time it really struck me, and it struck hard – just how much more there was behind a pretty face, a gleaming smile, and a beautiful voice.

It was also the first time I saw her cry.

And I have to say, it is one of the least graceful things she does. Her eyes turn red and swollen and glassy. And when she sobs, it sounds like…

It's the sound of your mother crying from loneliness because we've been so far away from home, for too long.

It's the sound your heart makes when you watch your friend die on the battlefield.

Falling in love with someone is such a gradual thing. Lacus always seem to smile, she smiles more than anyone I've ever seen. She must have smiled at me hundreds of times over the years.

And I didn't love her then. Too caught up in myself, my own problems, my own mess of a life that I still struggle through day after day, I missed what was right in front of me.

I know, I know. Soap operas and movies are filled with stories of love only realized once it's lost. Where the heartbroken give up hope, yet somehow find the courage and the strength to move on.

That isn't my story.

That isn't this story.

---

A tapping sound startled her. Lacus looked up from the magazine she held in her hands. The air in her hotel room issued a quiet hum. Even Mr. Pink lay silent at the foot of her bed, asleep. She slipped out from under the comforter and glanced at the dresser against the wall. But the clock wasn't there. She sighed. 'Just when I get used to one hotel, the next is arranged completely different.'

The sharp rapping sounded again. She flipped the journal upside down on the bed, placed her feet on the floor, and pushed herself off the bed. "I'm sure it's the tea," she said out loud as she rushed to answer the door.

The person knocked again, and the thought occurred to her: "But, I haven't ordered the tea, yet." She stopped. The tapping grew louder and more insistent. She bit her bottom lip. Lacus tilted her head, then continued forward. The carpet tickled the bottoms of her feet. Lacus grabbed the doorknob, and pulled it open. 'Oh, I should have looked to see who it is…'

A large bouquet of roses stood in the hallway. They greeted her at eye level - masculine hands wrapped around their stems and suspended above a pair of jeans.'Athrun?' Her stomach spun in crazy circles. "Oh my…" She said to the flowers. They rustled and tumbled forward. She held her arms out to catch them.

The bouquet spoke: "S-sorry. I-I brought these for you."

She glanced up to find familiar green eyes staring down at her. Lacus felt her heart skip as she hugged the flowers, and gave him a smile. "Thank you so much, Athrun. Won't you come in?" She moved aside to allow him to enter. The former Gundam pilot pushed his hands in his jean pockets and stepped into the room.

Lacus shut the door behind him. "It's good to see you."

"I uh…I-" He held out a tube with his right hand. "I brought you this, uh, too."

Lacus eyed the object from around the bouquet, but instead of reaching for it, she turned to gently place the flowers on top of the dresser. They smelled sweet like perfume and candy.

Lacus smiled as she moved to take the gift from her guest. The tube relaxed into the magazine she'd held just moments before. The young woman blinked. "But, I was already reading it. I have a copy over there." She pointed in the direction of her bed.

"Oh. I, uh. That is, I—I hope you don't mind that I," his voice lowered, "that I wrote about you."

She frowned. "But you didn't, Athrun."

"I didn't?" His eyebrows rose. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Would you like some tea? I could have some sent up. Or coffee if you prefer." Lacus shuffled over to the table to grab the in-room dining menu. Athrun caught her arm and spun her to face him.

"You didn't like it?" His handsome features pinched into a tight frown. His green eyes glimmered in the light, and his lips pressed together to form an angry line.

"Like what?"

He leaned closer. His grip on her arm tightened. "The article."

"I liked it very much." She tried to turn away again. The air had warmed when he moved closer, making it difficult to breathe.

He grabbed her shoulders. The move kept her from escaping. Her pulse sped up – she could hear it hammering in her ears.

"Lacus."

"Yes?"

He bowed his head and retracted his hands. Her skin cooled and she took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry."

"For what, Athrun?"

"For what I said to you the other night. For not returning your emails. For not being a better fiancée – when we were together. For not being a better friend when things…" His mouth moved, but no sound came out. Then, his voice caught again: "When we—"

"Athrun, I was happy when we were together. And you're forgiven for the rest. I'm glad you came to see me. I've been worried about you." He'd grown so tall. She had to tilt her head back to smile at him. His dark hair was cut a little shorter than she remembered, but it was his eyes that had changed the most. They were clear, the skin around them bright – no more shadows and black circles like he had during the war.

"Did you understand what I was trying to say?"

She blinked. "When?"

"Lacus! If you're still angry with me, just say so, but I poured my heart out to a circulation of 5,000 people," he pointed in the direction of her bed, "or more for just this issue – and you didn't even get it!" The former Gundam pilot panted like he was short of breath, but continued pointing.

"I'm not angry with you, Athrun. I never was." She glanced in the direction of her bed. "As for the article, I told you I liked it. Sometimes, I like to read things twice—"

"That's it?" He dropped his arm. "I suffered through writing that about you, for you—For me. They asked me to write about you—"

"But you didn't, Athrun."

"You keep saying that. You're the point of the article, Lacus. You."

His tone sounded sharp, angry – like that night.

-

"Be a part of my life?" He stood up, and she could see his arms quiver. "You don't want me to be a part of your life. And you certainly never wanted to be involved in mine."

"Athrun, that's not—"

"You didn't want me!"

-

Her heart clutched in pain, but she gave him a smile. "They say sometimes authors miss the depth in their own stories. Your article was good, Athrun. But, it wasn't about me."

Her former fiancé straightened his posture. His eyebrows rose. "It wasn't?"

"No."

"Th-then what was it about?"

"It was about you. I'm sure that's why they asked you to write it. Because we know each other."

"Me? But they wanted—"

"In order for people to see me the way you do, they have to connect with you – and you with them. As I read it, I felt the way you did. You could have written it about anyone and the result would have been the same."

"I don't think that's true. If people connected with me, it's because they admire you." He ducked his head and shoved his hands back in his pockets. "A-almost as much as I do."

"I don't think you give yourself enough credit."

-

"You wanted Kira. You never!" He lunged towards the monitor. "You never cared how I felt. You just want to feel like you didn't cut me out. But I don't need your pity!"

"Athrun…"

"I'm fine. I'm getting along just fine without you, Lacus Clyne. So you can stop pretending to worry about me."

"You can stop pretending you care."

-

"That's all you have to say?"

"What else is there to say?" She shook away the image of his angry face on her communicator screen. "I don't understand what you want—"

"I wanted to see you." He stepped closer; it was enough to make her dizzy. "Just you. To tell you that I have always felt this way about you, and in some way, probably always will. If you don't," he looked away, "love me, I understand. But I do want you in my life. And I want to be part of yours."

She gasped. "I-I just don't—Wh-what brought this all—" The room seemed to spin. "Why now, Athrun?"

"I just finally realized that… That loving you. It's not something I want to run away from." He leaned down and kissed her forehead. Athrun smiled with warm eyes. Then turned and took what seemed like slow, measured steps towards the door. He grasped the doorknob. She watched it turn.

-

"You can stop pretending you care." His image faded from view. Her heart squeezed, and she rushed to the controls to try to bring him back on screen…bring him back at all. But the connection was lost.

Lacus sunk to the floor as more tears trickled down her cheeks. She didn't bother to wipe them away. "All this time…"

-

"I—" Her voice finally came unstuck.

He stopped.

"I thought— Well, that is, you might like to go for a walk?"

He released the door and stepped back into the room. His gaze met hers.

"I've been cooped up in these hotel rooms for weeks."

Athrun stared at her as he moved closer. His hand touched her shoulder then slid down to rest on the back of her arm. Heat burned through her system and touched her cheeks. She had to look away. "B-but if you don't have to leave right away, we could walk together. And talk? We haven't talked like this in so long, I—" He tilted her chin where she had to look at him. Lacus swallowed against something lodged in her throat. She could smell the wood-flavor of his aftershave. The room continued to spin, but his eyes…his eyes were all she saw. He lowered his head.

"Athrun, I—" His mouth pressed against hers, coaxing her lips into a kiss. She felt his hands grasp her waist. Her heart hammered quick and loud like it wanted to burst from the confines of her chest. Athrun pulled away. She found herself gasping for air. And then his lips met hers again, his arms crushing her against his body.

Her eyelids slid shut. She wrapped her arms around his neck. His mouth against hers, his hands at her back. All this time…She clutched a fistful of hair and clung to him to keep the carpet from slipping out from underneath her feet.

I was waiting for you.

-

---

A preview to my upcoming Athrun x Lacus series:

Chapter 1

Lacus met his gaze from across the white-tableclothed centerpiece. Her light blue eyes sparkled. "I want to have your child."

Athrun tried to swallow the water he had just sipped from his glass, but for some reason, it went down wrong. He coughed and fumbled his water goblet. Ice and liquid splashed out of the glass, onto his hand and the cuff of his shirt; it soaked the tablecloth. Athrun reached for his napkin, and pressed it to his lips. He coughed again.

"Oh. My. Are you allright?"

He nodded and tried to swallow again. Movement to his left caught his attention and Athrun turned just in time to catch several pairs of eyes staring in their direction. He coughed, wiped the water off his hand with the napkin and set it on the table.

He gaped at the young woman sitting across from him. His fiancée, ex- fiancée, close friend, whatever-she-was. She sat with perfect posture, her strawberry blond hair swept up in a mature style – probably too mature for her twenty-four years. She wore an ivory, off-the-shoulder dress, and a simple strand of pearls at her neck.

"Athrun?" Her eyes dimmed and her eyebrows drew together into a small frown.

He opened his mouth. It took a minute for sound to come out. "Mine?"