Hello and good to see you, reader! Apple Fairy here! .

Well, a GuyNat fic for you. I hope you'll enjoy it, and not judge it too harshly.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Tales of the Abyss.

Unspeakable

Story by Apple Fairy

It was wrong. All wrong. Terrible and horrible and…unspeakable. What we did was wrong.

And wonderful. So wonderful. So wonderful and beautiful and…perfect.

You know it, as well as me. It was wrong. All wrong. And so very good, too.

It was love.

Which would it be; a memoir, or a confession?

When I looked it up, the definition of a memoir had read as thus: "an account of an author's personal experience".

Then, I compared it to the definition of 'confession' which was: "a statement acknowledging guilt, made by one accused or charged with an offense".

After contemplating it for awhile, I finally sighed loudly and collapsed onto the paper, frustrated and confused. Then, after closing my eyes, I realized it was both. I cherished it enough for it to be acknowledged as a memoir, and regretted it enough to be called a confession.

Then, looking back onto these memories, finally standing back and staring at them as a whole, I began to think of him. I began to think of who he was to me and what we had done together. I began to think of his wild blond hair, and his trusting blue eyes that looked through every lie you told, and his scent. He always had a strange smell to him. It was a mix of soil and metal and other unpleasant things.

Yet, they were good on him.

I thought…what would he consider it?

My love with your handsome blue eyes, would you be content with it and bless it as a memoir?

My love with your intoxicating touches, would you be ashamed of it and curse it as a confession?

I apologize, my addicting sweet, I am not to think of you as my 'love', am I?

It's hard, very hard, but I'll try.

Like how I'll try to appropriately name this prose.

"Unspeakable." I whispered and turned the word for awhile in my head, examining every side and meaning that associated with it.

Yes. Perfect. It fit, mostly because it sounded just like our love.

What we had was unfathomable. It was too beautiful for words, and too forbidden to be spoken of. What we had was not just a relationship a man and a woman share when an attraction is present, but a shameful affair behind closed doors that, if known, could've ruined us both. What we had was not just subtle and kind admiration, but passionate guilty pleasures and forbidden fruit kisses.

We knew, at all times, what we did was wrong, but we didn't care. (Well, we did, but to an extent.)

We had continued our passion nonetheless, but then it had to stop. I just…and he couldn't…

Anyway.

So, here I am now, confessing (or writing a memoir about) what had occurred between us in a quick, guilt-ridden courtship that had ended just as soon in a sad, yet clean-cut separation.

I know I should've left these memories behind a long time ago. I should've blocked them out, locked them away, and I should've thrown away the key. I was supposed to act like none of it happened; that we had never fallen in love, that we hadn't ever even shared any of those forbidden feelings. Yet, I don't think I'll ever forget them. So, please, let me write about them, just admit one last time what had happened. Maybe I write this because of what has happened?

It doesn't matter now. None of it does. All that matters is this pen I hold in my hand, and the job it will do for me. All that matters is what I remember, and what I write. Then, after that, not even these memories will matter, because they will no longer exist. After this, I will permanently put them behind me.

Forever.

Where should I start though? Our first meeting? No. When the attraction had first began?

I think I'll begin there.

The first thing I remember about this memory is the taste of salt. There's no other way to explain the taste; only that is was that of salt.

Oh, but it was wet, too. I suppose that counts for something.

Upon re-reading this, I realize it sounds like I am explaining a passionate kiss in the sea.

My love, you would laugh at that, wouldn't you?

Either way, it wasn't an ocean kiss I remember, goodness no.

I had been crying.

Crying, because my childhood friend and love and fiancé had been kidnapped. Because Luke had been stolen from us, his loved ones. None of us knew if he'd come back alive or well, or if he'd come back at all. Obviously I was sad, and I did want to cry, yet I wouldn't allow myself to. I was a princess, and I had to be strong. I had to trust that Duke Fabre would bring him back. I mean, if I let something like this hurt me, what sort of princess would I be in the future?

However, I realize I had cried.

It wasn't Luke's disappearance that set me off. Neither was the pain in realizing Madame Fabre needed someone to comfort her, and I would have to face her as well. The worry I had for her, when I entered her room had grown. But that didn't set me off, but the strength she tried to have.

The strength she tried to muster, that just wouldn't come. The strength she faked but just wouldn't do. That smile she showed that tried to cover up the rest of her, who was so sick with worry, so sad with concern, which failed its job.

It was heart-breaking.

I tried to cheer her up. I'm still not certain if it was for her, or me, or for the both of us; the two of us, forced to stay home, while the others went out to look, to search, while we could only pray for help.

She saw my concern, and looked at me with pity-filled eyes. Pity. Sympathy. It always seems to follow me everywhere.

She smiled that weak smile, and thanked me for the visit. She had, in a way, politely asked me to leave. I obliged. The chocking feeling in my chest was hurting too much. The feeling of insignificance was overwhelming. I was drowned by that feeling of vulnerability.

And so, I closed the door to her chambers behind me, and stood there. Just stood there, staring off into space, my mind blank.

Then, I ran.

I ran as if I was fast enough, I would be rewarded. Like, Luke would come back. Or maybe, Luke wouldn't be gone at all. He would be there. If I ran fast enough, the sad feelings, the harsh reality wouldn't be able to catch up to me. I just ran and ran, turning corner and corner, not sure where I was going, merely staying in the moment, refusing to plan ahead.

Then, I ended up in the courtyard. It had begun to rain, the symphony of nature playing its monotone tune of pitter-patter. I noticed I was breathing heavily, having run so much. My chest was beating against my rib cage; my legs were aching and throbbing with pain. I ignored it all, ignored the fact that I had stopped, and ignored the fact I had no where to go, and merely ran to Luke's room, his room that was separate from the manor. The travel to there was…like an illusion. I was slowly waking up, slowly realizing what was going. The pain, and memories, and the helplessness were catching up to me, were so close I could hear them whispering in my ear what was happening and how I could never help.

Or was I reminding myself? It's hard to say.

I stopped and collapsed on his porch. The rain continued it's concerto around me, the rain sounding like it was playing just for me. Soft sounds colliding with the ground. I tried to concentrate on this simple thing. On these plain and basic sounds. I tried to wrap my head around them, tried to count all the raindrops as they hit all at once, or at different sporadic times. When I had gotten past the number of eight-hundred, I grew sick of it, and so did the pain. It didn't like being ignored. It didn't like being pushed out of my mind, of being less noticed in favor of something as trivial as rain.

In vain, I continued trying to focus on nature's work of art, tried to only focus on that, so I wouldn't be forced to hear the pain's whispers telling me I was weak, that he wasn't coming back, that there was nothing I could do. It hurt, and I tried my best, really, but then it came to be too much. I couldn't keep it farther any longer, and my mind forced itself to fall in love with the pain's whispers, and it all crashed down onto me like one giant tidal wave.

I cried.

I began to cry, the cold of the rain biting into my bones, the feeling of misery claw at my heart. I cried, and cried, the tears running down my cheeks, onto his porch, and my sinuses became foul, and soon I was sniffling and hiccupping and just wishing, begging, really, for someone to bring him back. For someone to make Madam Fabre to stop faking the strength that I couldn't have for her, and for someone to please, just please make sure no one found me.

But he found me. Guy always found me.

"Princess Natalia?"

I froze. For one second, as I cried, I forgot who I was and where I was, and why in the world I was crying. All I knew was despair and the feeling of hope running away from me, deeming me a doubtful case. For a while, all I was was a girl, crying, wishing to be left alone, wishing for the world to just stop for awhile, wishing for just one moment alone, with my tears and the rain as my companions.

But to this person, this person who was dripping wet, with his blonde hair matted and his blue eyes worried, I was someone who needed sympathy.

I widened my eyes in shock. My mind took awhile to register who I am and where I was, and who this person is.

Guy.

I had known Guy. He was Luke's personal servant, and that was all he had been to me. Sure, I had known he had a fear of women, and that he was just a bit more handsome than Luke, but that was the most I had known of him. Other than that, he was just someone in the background, someone who always had to accompany Luke who had never proved to be more than a servant.

But at that moment, Guy was becoming more than 'Luke's servant' and to someone who had seen me cry.

"Princess Natalia, what's wrong?! Why are you crying?!" He asked, worried, kneeling down to see me. I wasn't sure what to say. I wanted to be left alone, left alone to cry. To think, and despair, and to just be alone.

But I didn't want to be alone. I wanted Luke; However, what I got was Guy.

"I…I-I…" I chocked on the words. The large lump in my throat hurt, and I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to be seen, and I didn't want to talk I just wanted-!

"Here."

Suddenly, a handkerchief. A plain one, with what looked like faded stains of…oil? That's my guess to this day. Guy did have a habit of working on fontech with that as his only washcloth...

I didn't even bother to be disgusted with it. I didn't even care that it was a dirty old thing. All I was, was surprised. Surprised at this sudden show of compassion. My heart jumped at his kindness, which I obviously hadn't asked for, which I wasn't somebody he had known that well that he still acted so to.

I was touched, to say the least.

After awhile of hesitation, I finally took it from him, careful not to touch him, and wiped away my tears. He waited patiently for the tears to stop, for me to calm down, as the rain pitter-pattered around us.

And it felt like all that existed in the world, was us. Like I wasn't in Auldrant anymore, but a different sort of world. Like I was…dreaming. It all felt so unreal, so make-believe, I might as well have been dreaming.

I mean, at that moment in my life, who would have thought that Guy of all people would be the one to help me?

"There…feel better?" He asked gently when I could finally see without tears. I felt exposed all of a sudden, vulnerable. Like he was seeing right through me, like I had just admitted a terrible secret to him.

Yet, with the rain singing around us, I also felt safe and yet, defenseless around him. Like I said, it all felt like a dream.

I nodded a miserable nod. I wasn't sure what expression he made, for I avoided his eyes, avoided his face in all, clutching onto that rag like it was all I could use to comfort myself.

"…Are you ready to talk?"

I closed my eyes, and turned my head downwards. Talk? Talk about what? About how helpless I was? About how I missed Luke so terribly? How I wished I could be strong for Madam Fabre, except for her doing it for me?

"Is it about Master Luke?"

And yet, I needed no words. Guy knew. He always did. He not only saved me the trouble of crying alone, but also for speaking for myself. He was always good at cheering me up. He did it better than anyone else could.

I'm grateful for that.

I nodded once more. I still avoided his gaze, his face, and waited for him to say something, maybe something out of pity, maybe something out of fake kindness.

Yet, he said nothing. I was confused, but looked up to him.

"I miss him, too."

The look on his face, the way he said it, made my heart and body shiver. I felt…good. Not alone anymore, but…good. I had a friend in this. Someone who understood and didn't try to hide it with fake strength, but admitted it right there. Told me indirectly that I wasn't alone. That I had him.

He didn't give me sympathy, like I expected. No, he gave empathy, which was much better.

He smiled a forced smile to me.

"I'm sure he misses us, too. When he comes back…let's welcome him back with a smile okay? No more crying, your highness. Luke wouldn't want that."

And then, the rain began to let up, the concert letting up, the band packing up and leaving one by one. The soft pitter-patter slowed down, and then all the rain drops, all eight-hundred and plus, stopped. I felt my heart lift. No. Luke wouldn't want that. In this dream world, I believed Guy. I believed because he cheered me up, better than anyone else did.

He just had that sort of aura around him.

And for the first time while this was all occurring, I spoke to Guy.

"…Thank you."

He smiled wider, and stood up, the fresh sun shining behind him, casting a shadow onto me.

"As long as you're happy, princess."

And my heart skipped a beat. His words had been so gentle, and his smile so soft, the way the sun shone behind him so beautifully…

Breath-taking. Simply breath-taking.

At that moment, I felt like I was seeing Guy for the first time. I was seeing Guy as a whole person, in general. I was witnessing his kind demeanor, his handsome face, his gentle blue eyes…

He was not just 'Luke's servant' any longer, but someone who had helped me stop crying.

I gulped and nodded dumbly.

"Th-Thank you for that as well, then…" I muttered, and stood up on my own, dusting my backside of any dirt, feeling the water drip off my hair. I looked to him, and noticed he was wet as well. I giggled. His cheeks pinkened and he looked at me confused.

"Wh-What? What is it, your majesty?" He asked skeptically. I smiled at him, and pointed to his hair.

"We're soaked."

"A-Ah!"

He looked himself over, and a blushed flavored his face. He laughed nervously.

"I was so worried about you, I didn't notice…I mean, you were running like something was chasing you…" He tried to explain. That last bit had caught my attention.

"You saw me running?"

"Yeah…you're faster than I thought. It was hard to catch up to you." He chuckled good-heartedly. Now, it was my turn to blush.

"H-How unlady-like for a princess to be running in a manor like that…" I scolded myself, reality coming back to me. When the rain let up, the dream was leaving. I felt myself waking up as the sun shined on us, the air hot and muggy. Once again, I was Princess Natalia, and he was a servant who had cheered me up.

"You had your reasons. It was only me, anyway. I…I don't think anyone else saw you."

"Well, thank goodness!"

He laughed. I smiled. And suddenly, the pain's whispers were blocked out by our conversation.

Thank goodness, indeed.

After his laughter died down, there was only silence. We smiled at each other for awhile, my heart swelling. I was pretty sure his was, too.

He was the first to look away.

"…Are you going to be alright?"

Then, the pain, although dull now, made it's presence known. I didn't feel it; only remembered it. I wanted to continue our small chat, but decided it didn't really matter; there would be other chances.

"Yes. Thank you, once more, Guy."

"Anytime, princess. I have to go now, alright? I still have chores and all…"

"Oh, yes, right! Don't let me keep you! G-Go on, Guy…"

He smiled, and nodded, walking back to the manor. I watched him go silently, then looked down, something catching my eye.

"Wait! You forgot something!"

He half-turned to me.

"What?"

"Your handkerchief..."

He shrugged and smiled an easygoing smile.

"Keep it."

And with another shrug, a few steps, he was gone, back to his duties as a servant. I only stood there, dumbly, suddenly feeling embarrassed, even if no one had seen me. I looked down to the rag, and then back to the door he had left through. Without thinking, I began to wipe my face with it of the rainwater. My nose caught something, and I breathed in the peculiar scent.

It smelled like…him. Like metal, and oil, and…well, him.

Do you ever notice that some people have this sort of personal scent about them? Where if you smell something you similar, you think of them. Maybe it's the soap they use, or the environment they work or live in, but you can always tell it's their scent?

Yes. Guy had that. It smelled just like him.

And I…embarrassing as it is now to admit it…liked it. It smelled somewhat unpleasant to my tastes, but it was him. I…liked it.

I closed my eyes, and replayed the moment Guy looked down to me, sun shining behind him, casual smile decorating his face. Remembering it made me feel…nice. Good. Happy. And most of all…warm. Very warm.

"He's breath-taking."

I widened my eyes. Was that…my voice? Did I really just say that now? And why?

I felt my ears get hot, and shrugged off my strange behavior, shoved the handkerchief into my skirt pocket, and the thoughts of Guy aside, and set back home.

Father would worry.

I tried to forget the strange thing I had said, yet my heart's rapid beats would show I had not completely forgotten him.

It should have stayed like that. A quick two-minute infatuation, and that's it. No more, and it would have been more convenient if it had been a lot less.

But we crossed the line. We just had to take it further. We had to cross the boundaries and laugh at common-sense in the face. We…were young and foolish. I regret it. It's…unspeakable, after all.

When something momentous in your life occurs, and after all of it has taken it's toll, positively or negatively, you have the chance to look back and see what had started it all, what had led to what, and who was responsible for this or that.

When I look back at our affair, I noticed we are both to blame.

For example, you didn't mean to be so astounding when you stood up and smiled at me, but you were. Also, it's not like I planned to be smitten with you as you acted so charming, but I just was. We were both doing it unknowingly, going on instinct, reacting without meaning to. It was not our faults, but there is still no one else to blame.

However, that is not to say our relationship was an accident, goodness no.

No, we also had both pushed it to the edge, had both taken it as far as we could, throwing care to the wind, and fell into the danger's void, holding each other as tight as we could, all knowingly.

And after realizing all that, after analyzing everything, after knowing what I had done was dangerous and wrong and completely forbidden I had only one question for myself: Why?

And I answered that question, quietly.

Because we had been in love. It was as simple as that.

That's the end of it! Thank you for reading! :3

Yes, there will be more chapters. And yes, they will be muuch better than this! Dx

Sorry for the bad grammar! And if I made them OOC, or something…

Either way, thank you once again for reading! Ciao and have a wonderful day! x3

-Apple Fairy