For the first hour of her day Cagalli was as bitter as her first cup of black coffee. In another world, she was shooting laser beams out of her pupils at her fractured reflection in the television screen. This was only simulated in this one, which failed to adequately drain the aggravation of having to wake up so early from her. Falling asleep on the couch for the fourth week in a row had placed a permanent crick in her neck.

Cagalli looked uncharacteristically haggard for a young person. Dissatisfaction had layered ten years on her face over ten months. She mumbled profanity into the rim of her large coffee mug at the recent abundance of romantic dreams inspired by Calvin Klein perfume advertisements and late-night dramas. She was discovering bitterness to be a vicious disease that feasted cannibalistically to multiply. Cancelling her cable and sleeping on a mattress were her only hope for recovery.

By the time she'd shaken her sleepy stupor, she was behind schedule and rushed through the remainder of her morning routine. At work, the radio crooned slow jazz as she worked meticulously at grading book reports with assembly line efficiency. As a high school student, she often wondered how her English teachers thought they could truly appreciate their students' work in the limited time they devoted to smattering red ink on pages of hard labour. As an English teacher she realized that repetition bred efficiency; and the sad truth that most high school students rarely produced work worthy of appreciation.

Cagalli's over-grown blonde fringe usually fell into her face for half an hour before her colleagues assumed the routine task of distracting her with irrelevant gossip. Today she'd indulged in the annoyance for only twenty-two minutes, realizing that every passing week snipped away a fraction of this precious alone time. She mixed hot chocolate into the remnants of her coffee as she listened to the office gossip under the guise of participation. To her chagrin, she'd grown quite fond of the poor man's Mocha Lattes. Her lips pursed in fond memory of a time when she had standards even for simple things like his.

"Any reason you're not opening your class early as usual this morning, Miss Yula?" Cagalli hated most things about Miss Boudazza, the Head of the English Department at this school. She was tall and slender with a figure that made most twenty year olds envious. The only tell-tale signs of her age were the few wrinkles that charted the corners of her eyes and lips and the city chic silver bob she sported. To Cagalli's frustration, she was blessed with a voice like velvet, which was always a pleasure to hear even if it was strictly chiding her.

"Just keeping my finger on the pulse, Ma'am," she responded curtly, almost succeeding in her attempt to keep the insubordinate undertones out of her voice.

"I don't believe that's part of your paid job description, is it?"

Cagalli could not remember what she had done to get on this frustrating woman's naughty list, but she knew better than to stay and argue. She swept the morning's teaching materials into her arms and quickly departed without the grace expected of a lithe blonde. Her days were spent introspecting, in hopes of discovering a cure for her ennui. The gradual demise of her enthusiasm began ten months ago, after 18 enjoyable ones spent in these hallways. She had become a time bomb, slowly ticking away at the minutes of her happiness. Sometimes, in the quite of stilled darkness, she could hear her unhappiness. It sounded like a metronome that kept track of all the beats she did not play for.

Her morning classroom had large windows that overlooked the small lake behind the school. The cross-country team's usual route followed the circumference of the lake and the rowing team's boats were docked at the pier extending out from the north end. This was her favourite of all the rooms she taught in. She often wished she could open one of the windows and let the breeze in to add a touch of freshness that these halls and classes lacked. Alas, it was rare to have large windows that opened in buildings as old as this.

The warning bell broke her peaceful solitude before students did. She usually counted on a couple of her students to present themselves early with the youthful vigour that blooms into accelerated escalation through a very prominent corporate ladder. Today, those students were away at a debate competition with hopes of collecting accolades that would add another cornerstone to their formidable university applications.

Cagalli took her seat at the front edge of her desk. Students filed into the classroom, some greeting her along the way.

"Good Morning Mrs. Yula," they said in the midst of the cluttered din of metal chair legs scratching against polished linoleum. It wasn't too long ago when she walked nonchalantly past her teachers, greeting them with incorrect prefixes.

The ambient noise in the room rose with the number of students sauntering into the class. It subsided briefly for the national anthem and picked up as the Principal's morning announcements progressed, failing to cease upon their completion.

As she did with every morning class, Cagalli wrestled to gain control of her students who were more excited by their social calendars and Internet memes than they were with her curriculum. After all, this was 'only English', a subject which paled in importance when compared to the sciences and the mathematics, or business and technology.

"Today we'll be discussing…" Eyes casually drifted her way but the conversation continued. Cagalli's eye twitched betraying her overwhelming frustration at the situation. Her emotional response was an overreaction to the circumstance, but the moment was serving as an outlet for months of accumulated dissatisfaction and defeat. She was one who did was she was told and what was socially comfortable and acceptable, but in these recent days she felt like a doormat. Her frustration made her wildly jealous of her students who could wake up later and sleep earlier than she could. They didn't need to listen to unsolicited chiding from Miss Boudazza for reasons that even she didn't understand. They were spared the agony of reading poorly written essays, which butchered the English language, one of the few things she cherished anymore. Language, in her opinion, was the foundation of civilization. All the other studies were secondary because knowledge was meaningless without the ability to communicate it. The disregard for English in lieu of sparing efforts and attention for the 'more important' studies had her worn thin.

She was unhappy and exhausted, and exhausted of unhappy. In a moment of heightened self-pity, she walked over to the door and slammed it shut. The force resonated through the walls and the floor, which coupled with the sound, startled her students silent.

"I hear another syllable about anything unrelated to my curriculum for the next hour, and – mark me - I will traumatize you," Her voice was low and her eyes were steely and narrow. Cagalli could not believe her behavior, but she felt powerless to change it. She watched as the monster that lived deep inside her surfaced to alleviate some of the repressed tension she had collected over time. A banter broke between her and the voices of her students, some meek, some confused, some belligerent.

"Did you just threaten us?"

"Is that rhetorical?"

"What?"

"What self-respecting high school student doesn't know what a rhetorical question is?"

"I don't think you can talk to us like we're dumb."

"Actually, I can talk to you however I want."

"Well, I'll report you!" Multiples clambered resonating fear and conviction throughout the room.

Cagalli smiled with malice, amused by how perturbed her students were and by how easy it was to break free from the mould she'd created for herself. "Oh? And who would you complain to?"

"The Principal."

"And how exactly would that go?"

"Mrs. Yula was making fun of Philip because he asked a question."

"What question did he ask?"

The girl struggled to articulate her snark, but realized that "What?" was not a substantive question. Cagalli paused long enough to drive her point home before adding, "Anyone else want to take a stab at telling me how to do my job properly?"

The screech of a chair dragging along the floor dimmed the chatter. A tall, lanky ginger rose from his chair like the Lochness monster emerging from black waters. He was halfway to the door before Cagalli challenged him, "Seiichi, are you planning to conduct today's lesson plan?"

He tucked a lock of his shoulder length hair behind his ear. "And what would today's lesson plan be? Authoritarian ridicule?" A pause and the amusement settled in her lips mildly provoked him, "If I wanted to play games, I'd babysit my little nephew."

"Afraid you can't cut it at the adult table?" The class watched in awe as one of their own took on the hungry lioness.

"Even if I wanted to try, there isn't one here, so…"

"Suit yourself." Cagalli conceded, waiting until he was at the door before adding, "A masked coward is a coward the same."

"Excuse me?" The offence was too subtle for the students but apparent to Cagalli..

"Isn't that what cowards do? Run away? Are you afraid you may actually like a class for a change?"

"Please, you're, what? Going through some kind of hormonal spike which makes you interesting in passing. You don't have what it takes to actually keep this up. Chances are when your coffee wears off you'll panic and give everybody and A- on their assignments to compensate them for their fleeting discomfort."

"Son of a bitch," Cagalli's voice was tempered and muted, but her shoe had gone from her foot to her hand and was on its way to Seiichi's face. His athletic reflexes saved him from the loafer whizzing past his ear. His eyes widened, which was a sight that nobody in that class had seen before. Everybody stared in awe as he debuted his brand of surprised.

After a pregnant pause, he pompously accused, "Why the hell would you aim for my face!?" When Cagalli did not whip a snarky response back, he noticed her standing dumbfounded and embarrassed on one leg. Temper had drained from her face and blood rushed to take its place. It was a few seconds for him to realize the open door and the equally dumbfounded stranger standing in its doorway with a hand between his face and Cagalli's shoe.

Seiichi's loud voice had hooked the head of the department and reeled her into the class. "Miss Yula! What are you doing?"

"I-I-I-I-I..." she stuttered, utterly mortified. She bit hard into the inside of her cheek to check if she was dreaming and the overwhelming pain that stung at her eyes delivered bad news. "I'm so very sorry." She was apologizing to the unidentified man holding her shoe, although the head of the department misinterpreted that for an apology for being rowdy and clumsy.

"Please, Miss Yula, buy shoes that fit you and keep your students," She glared at Seiichi, seething at the sight of his long auburn hair, "in check!" And with that, she returned to her classroom, closing the door behind her.

Of all the pauses that cluttered this morning, this was the longest and the most uncomfortable. Students were too flabbergasted to be amused. Even Seiichi, the resident troublemaker, was speechless.

The handsome stranger broke the silence. "Seiichi, was it?" to which the redhead raised an eyebrow. "A caution from experience: don't ever provoke a woman whom you suspect of going through a hormonal spike. It's the worst wrath known to man." Turning to Cagalli, he continued, "I believe this belongs to you?"

His voice was mildly deep and throaty forming airy words that quietly filled the room. She held his stare, trying to reroute the blood from her cheeks to her brain. "Yes." "Shit," she thought to herself, finally to her senses. Her eyes darted to Seiichi who seemed to have just found his tongue. "Seiichi, get back to your seat, now." Her orders contained a nervous fervour noticed only by Seiichi and the stranger. He obliged swiftly, for belligerent as he was, he had the sense not to cross Cagalli when she was under duress, especially after being warned.

"I'm so sorry you were caught in the crossfire," she bowed as per custom, conveying the sincerity of her remorse.

The stranger chuckled with good nature. "I wasn't really expecting crossfire at a high school."

"Of course not!" Cagalli immediately agreed, still taut with tension. She expected him to leave, assuming he had been lost when she assaulted him with footwear.

"I'm here to audit your class," he explained, holding out his hand, a small friendly smile on his face.

Instead of meeting his hand, hers went directly to her face. "Murphy…" she grumbled with a mix of hysteria, rage and self-pity. She was careful to be quiet, but he was close enough to hear her and smart enough to understand what she meant.

"Athrun Zala." His hand remained outstretched patiented.

She briefly took his hand, her handshake surprisingly firm for her flustered demeanour. "Cagalli Yula. Please sit wherever you like. If you find a student in your preferred seat, stare at him uncomfortably until he moves." She hoped the joke would lighten her mood. Embarrassment was a lead weight today, making her feel too heavy to care for anything more than sleep.

"I'll be fine, Thank you."

"Of course you will."

Athrun attempts to put Cagalli at ease were not successful.

He occupied an empty seat at the very back of the class. Cagalli had never been audited before and the uncertainty of what was expected of her was making her uncomfortable. This time she caught herself slipping back into her tendency to perform to suspected expectations and stopped herself.

The room was overflowing with thoughts. Half the students were still trying to process the shenanigans of the morning and half the girls were giggling over their good-looking guest. A couple of the girls attempted to flirt with him through their looks and their gestures, but he paid them no attention. He was very focused on the teacher conducting the class.

When Athrun had reluctantly agreed to this assignment, he was convinced that he had been doomed for long days filled with boring monotony and lessons that had little to no practical value. So far, the experience was delightfully disappointing.

Cagalli was uncomfortable with the undivided attention she was receiving from everybody in the class. This was a novel experience for a teacher in a class filled with sophomores. Freshmen were different; they maintained their fear of God and teachers, but two semesters was all it took for them to realize that their parents would loudly lobby against any teacher that had the strength of character to deviate from the Stepford Wives system of educating that the school had gotten into the nasty habit of.

Athrun misunderstood her discomfort and tried once more to reassure her. "You don't have to be so nervous just because I'm here." However, the blank piece of paper before him and a pen at the ready was having the opposite effect.

"It's not nervousness," she insisted despite the block of lead in her stomach. She tried hard not to focus on the audit, the auditor, (It did not help that he was easy on the eyes.) and the simple fact that she may have killed her career with a shoe that she bought only because it was on clearance. Impulse shopping never helped anyone.

"Then continue with your lesson." He suggested the obvious.

She raised an eyebrow, unsure how to take the unsolicited advice. She decided, especially given her mood today, that it was offensive. "I advise you to heed the cautionary wisdom you imparted on Seiichi earlier, Mr. Zala." She's already stabbed her career in the back. What harm could come from turning the knife?

"I have the sole of your shoe imprinted on my palm. What else could you have in store for me?" Athrun teased sharing a fleeting moment of uncharacteristic comfort with a new acquaintance.

Cagalli's eyes communicated what her words would not. "If only you knew," was what they said, but she chose to continue with her class instead. Her students protested with a unanimous groan when she introduced her topic for today, "Let's take a short break from literary analysis and go back to structural basics."

"We already know the basics, Ma'am. How else would we have made it into high school?"

"Fair enough. Lets do a short verbal quiz on English syntax, and when you guys prove to me that you've got a sophomore understanding of structure and grammar, I'll give you the rest of the class off and we'll go back to analyses tomorrow." The slight cheer that rang through the room was cut short when Cagalli asked "First question: What was the verb tense of the question that Charlene asked?"

The class continued in this way, with Cagalli formulating questions from the sentences of the students' responses. The remainder of the hour passed without anybody noticing the time or the auditor who silently took note of both the quality of the education and the qualities of the educator.

Cagalli was pleased that by the time the bell had rung, her students were immersed in the discussion and had forgotten this was supposed to be a quiz and they were striving to get out of class early. Still, she had only dismissed her class 30 seconds ago and it was already empty. Seiichi was the last one out and patted her on the back, whispering "Solid A-." That was a long way up from the consistent F she'd been getting for the past three months. A smile charted her face as she acknowledged today as a battle won. Winning the war would take a lot more effort and time.

"I don't remember high school being like this at all." Cagalli nearly jumped out of her skin at the unexpected voice. Athrun smiled at how transparently her body communicated her emotions. "I think even I learned something."

"You know, I can't remember what it was like for me today. But sometimes it doesn't matter. Its easy to forget how to be innovative when I'm subconsciously trying to mimic teachers from a decade ago. Sometimes we teachers forget that the defining factors of teenagers changes over time." She felt a warm pulse inside her and it reminded her of happiness. It was tiny yet, but it was a good place to start.

"I think you can definitely check off 'Was Innovative' from today's To-Do List. Discipline by footwear was definitely a first for me." He made his way to the front of the class with his papers tucked under his arm.

She laughed nervously, a touch of pink colouring her cheeks. "Yeah, well, again I'm really sorry about that. Seiichi's athletic reflexes are infamous and how much damage could a rubber sole do anyway."

Athrun laughed, showing her the faint imprint still lingering on his palm. "Sufficient damage I would say, especially when you throw like a pissed off girl." Cagalli smiled, appreciating him for giving credit where credit was due instead of generalizing all females as weak. "Besides, it's nice that you're so close to your students. At least you know there'll be one positive thing in my report."

"Great." Cagalli rolled her eyes, gathering her untouched teaching materials in her arms and making her way to the door. "Although, for the ethical purpose of full disclosure, I'm not in the least close to my students." She paused at the door, "After you, the next class in here isn't mine and the teacher should be here shortly."

"Oh, sorry," He moved past the students lined outside the door quickly and watched as Cagalli let them in, teasing some of the students she had taught previously.

"They're so adorable when they're still young and naïve." Her eyes contained a vivacity had not seen in years.

"The fact that you see teenagers as human is probably what makes you a great high school teacher. And for what its worth, at least you seem close to them. I'm sure they appreciate it. Like that boy from your class just now…" Athrun paused to remember his name.

"Oh, you mean Seiichi?" He nodded. "He's different. We're more like friends instead of student and teacher. He doesn't really like people, but he likes popularity. So he pretends to be insolent to please the masses. It doesn't take long to figure out that nobody is Seiichi's teacher. That leaves only two options really: to be delusional about who holds the power in the relationship or levelling the playing field by being his friend." Cagalli explained, beginning to walk towards the English office.

"That's…" Athrun struggled to find an adequate response quickly following her. What Cagalli was describing was well beyond her job description; it could also put her in a situation where she could harm her career if accusations of favourtism were made against her.

"That's the job. Or at least, that the way I want to do my job. I know, I know, it's walking the shady line between the two sides of professional, but I do my best not to let bias filter in. And, to be fair, there are worse offenders who wander these halls. The only difference is, they latch onto the keen, book smart brown-nosers which seems to be socially acceptable."

"Some of those in every organization."

"Really? I'm having a hard time visualizing what a brown-nosing auditor looks like. Isn't the job basically the antithesis of brown-nosing? Although I suppose every corporate chain could have them, but it just seems strange to live in such duality."

"Well, actually, this isn't my day job so I know surprisingly little about the secret corporate culture of auditors."

"Well, with your penchant for drama I'm surprised that you're not the male lead on a soap opera. Although, seeing as you're still here, and second classes have started already, I'm going to go out on a limb and say you have no idea where you're going next."

"You would not be wrong about that." Athrun made a mental note to have a full day's schedule from tomorrow.

Cagalli sighed realizing she would not have those book reports marked by her deadline. She felt morally obliged to make sure Athrun was well treated at the school because his first impression here was horrendous and she was solely responsible for it. "Well, give me a minute to put away my things and I'll help you find where you're supposed to be."

Athrun agreed gratefully, although he was almost certain he could find his way. The office they entered was cooler than the hallways. A large fan quietly circulated air throughout the empty room. Aside from the air, everything in the room seemed antiquated and stale. He was surprised that the office didn't have more a feminine touch, considering all the English teachers in the school were women.

"You can say it; this is a dump. None of us seem to get along very well and the room wears that tense attitude very well. We're really good at pretending we do though, so you'll have to guard that secret with your life."

"Since keeping secrets is my day job, I think I can manage that. Just for you though. I hear this from anyone else and it'll be in the headlines." Such obvious flirting was uncharacteristic of him and he wasn't sure why he could do it so naturally. But, for better or worse, she seemed to gauge it as platonic, which put him at ease for now.

"What is this day job you speak so mysteriously of? And if you say 'I'd tell you but I'd have to kill you' I'd be thoroughly disappointed by your lack of ingenuity."

Athrun's face fell slightly even though he laughed it off. "I work for the military, and, since I know you're going to ask, I'm here because I didn't want to take my vacation days and when they forced me to, I vented my frustration to the wrong person who decided she could employ me since I didn't want the days off anyway."

"Isn't that considered slave labour?" Cagalli raised an eyebrow, smirking at the stupidity of the situation.

"If you asked her, I'm certain she'd label it as volunteering." Cagalli laughed at the clever response. Her laughter was like tiny bells in the hundreds, all ringing marginally off-beat from each other. It was an infectious sound.

"She sounds interesting to say the least. But, I'm afraid story time has to end here. I really need to get some marking done, which I can't start until you're well settled in your next class."

"I appreciate you taking the time, then."

"You have a surprising air of drama for a soldier." She expected short radio speak from professional militants, not diplomatic etiquette. She ushered him out of the office and locked the door behind them. "The office is in the other wing, so lets go left."

They walked in silence for a few moments. Athrun did not lag behind Cagalli despite her unannounced turns. Anticipating another person's movement was second nature to him from his years of military training. To a third person his intuition would seem almost psychic. They'd also notice the silence was making him very uncomfortable.

"Something smells nice in this hallway." He said, out of the blue, in hope of triggering a conversation.

"Might be the lotion," Cagalli suggested holding up her wrist. "It has a nice, soothing fragrance."

He pulled her arm closer to his face. "Mm, it does. What is it?"

"Cucumber melon, I think? It was limited edition body lotion. It's my favourite, though Meer, one of the other English teachers, brought it because she was going to throw it away." The insignificant details did not matter to Athrun, but he was glad to be rid of the silence.

Before he had the change to release Cagalli's hand, Seiichi emerged from the boy's washroom, catching the pair holding hands and leisurely sauntering through the halls. He let the door slam shut behind him to catch their attention. Athrun dropped her hand and flinched when the loud bang startled them.

"You don't waste a second, do you Miss Yula," Seiichi said innocently, with a subtle emphasis on the prefix, Miss.

Cagalli's initial response was confusion, although Athrun immediately looked away quickly realizing Seiichi's innuendo. The blonde quickly clued into the situation when she recognized Athrun's reaction and indignantly denied any romance between them. "It's not like," she started, turning toward Seiichi who had already started down the hallway returning to his class.

"It's okay Miss Yula," he stressed the 'Miss' intentionally for a second time, "A teacher needn't be accountable to her students about her personal interests!" He yelled back. Tomorrow, she'd be front page gossip across the school for seducing a man with her shoe.

Cagalli took a deep breath to calm herself as she watched Seiichi disappear around a corner. "It's just like him," she sighed, emptying her lungs of air, "convoluting things to amuse himself, deaf to any explanations that exist in reality."

"You look like a child whose candy was snatched away by an older delinquent." Amusement shone in his green eyes.

"Well, of course you think so. You'll be old news in a matter of days, whereas I'll still be here being discussed like a page six celebrity." Cagalli led him into a stairwell where her dread echoed back to her.

"I know where the main office is, if you prefer returning to your office." He offered feeling very guilty over the small matter. She seemed so troubled by what had just happened and her change in attitude seemed a bit extreme to him.

"We're halfway there already. And, really, what could possibly happen that could be worse than Seiichi spreading a rumour about me." Cagalli's forced herself to smile, trying to lift her mood. Her morning had started off very well for the first time in a long time, and she wanted to maintain the momentum. "And if you say something ridiculously formal like how you appreciate my efforts, I will punch you like a pissed off girl." She punctuated with a grin.

"Well..." Surprise created a stutter in his fluid voice. "Then, I'll just say thank you, and see you later." They turned the corner towards the main office a moment later.

Cagalli waved to him as he disappeared into the secretary's cubicle. She then returned to marking her book reports and teaching the rest of her classes. The two didn't cross paths for the rest of the day.

When she got home that evening, Seiichi was waiting for her. Like a stray dog, he was perched on the floor outside her door, his arms dangling over his knees. He was likely taking a nap behind his closed eyes. She shook her head, contemplating whether she really wanted to wake him. But at this point she really had no choice if she wanted to enter her apartment.

She approached him slowly and gently kicked his shoes, hoping the jolt would wake him up. "Do you need to be fed, Puppy?" She mocked him with the adoration of an older sister.

His hands sleepily shot up to the sides of his head in an effort to mimic dog's ears. "Woof."

"Do you promise not to talk about Athrun?" She asked with the underlying threat of starvation.

Seiichi laughed, amused by the question. "Hell no."

She sighed, fighting the urge to bury her face into her palm. He was let in regardless, because Cagalli would never have the heart to dismiss him. Seiichi occasionally would show up at her doorstep when he ran out of money to buy food. She'd never asked him about his family because if he hadn't told her yet, it was because he didn't want to. Asking pointed questions would not get her any answers unless he wanted to share. She had pieced together that he lived by himself, and as a teenager responsible for himself, he was too poor to feed himself sometimes, usually at the end of the month. She was still trying to solve the mystery of how he acquired his tuition, but often found herself better off for not knowing.

"How about pasta?" She asked, kicking off her shoes and heading straight for her couch. She hadn't a culinary gene in her body and Seiichi did her a favour by occasionally eating here because he made fabulous leftovers.

"Sure," He shrugged, donning an apron and beginning to chip away at making dinner. "So, what's the scene with Athrun?"

To Cagalli everybody was addressed by his or her first names. While Seiichi held up the pretences of society, he did not give regard or respect for age and accomplishments. She did not force him to pretend with her because she understood how exhausting an undertaking it was maintain such a constant façade and believed everybody needed occasional refuge from it.

"There is no scene."

"Really? You were holding hands when I walked out of the bathroom."

"We were not. You're deliberately misrepresenting what you saw."

"What I saw was his hand wrapped around yours. Bring me a Bible and I'll swear to it."

"You'd swear to anything on a Bible because you're not Christian and it means nothing to you."

"That's just a technicality."

"It's a pretty important technicality." She tried to change the subject. "What are you putting in the pasta? Can I have carrots?"

"You know, it's weird to like carrots in pasta," Seiichi pointed out, and they talked about food until it was prepared and served at the coffee table with the evening news flickering across the television. It wasn't long before Seiichi revisited the prior conversation.

"Fine, if I'm misinterpreting, then what was actually happening?"

She took her time to respond under the guise of meticulously chewing her dinner. "He liked the smell of that cucumber melon lotion I've been obsessed with."

He turned down the television to shift the focus on their conversation. "And that required physical contact because?"

"He smelled 'something nice' in the hallway and I suggested that it might be my lotion and I held out my arm because I'd just slathered some on. I mean who doesn't like the smell of cucumber melon!? It's so appropriately summer refreshing. And so he probably took a hold of my hand so that my arm wouldn't hit his nose. After all, I think we can agree I had sicked enough physical abuse on him for the day." She was oblivious to the obvious innocent romance hidden in her story.

A Cheshire cat grin conquered Seiichi's face. "So, your hand was in his because he was smelling your skin?" Cagalli nodded as she finished the last of her dinner. Before she could speak, he interjected with, "That's so incredibly erotic. It's giving me goosebumps."

"What!?" She waved her fork at him with exasperation. "It is not."

"Cagalli," Seiichi turned to look at her. His expression was serious and concerned with a small hint of pity, as though she'd just announced a diagnosis of a terminal illness. He took the fork out of her hand, careful not to let their skin make contact. Cagalli's eyes darted to follow Seiichi's every move. He leaned in close to her till she could feel his breath on her face. His fingers curled around the high pile carpet lining the floor, making a distinctive, tense sound. He closed his eyes and sighed softly, but it rang loudly through her ears because their cheeks were so close they were almost touching. The hairs on the back of her neck began to lift and a shiver almost travelled down her spine before he gently whispered into her ear. She waited with wide-eyed anticipation, trying to predict what trickery Seiichi was plotting.

"It's so cute how naïve you are. I can hear your heart pounding Cagalli, even though I'm not touching you. Eroticism lies in the little details."

The blood drained from her face and she pushed him away. To add to her embarrassment, he leaned back laughing. "Get out." Her voice was low and seethed with rage.

He hastily got off the floor, not able to control his laughter.

"You really need to get laid soon Cagalli. This naiveté isn't good for your soul."

She chased him out of her apartment. "And don't ever come back!"