.

He often wonders what happened to the woman he married. It's been seven years to the day, and she's sitting across from him, just finished with dinner. He knows, if he reaches out to stroke the hand that she lay on the table as a silent offering, that she will follow him upstairs so that they may continue to pretend they're in a semblance of a relationship. He thinks not.

He's forty-five now, almost forty-six. He's not young, but not yet old either. It's not that he doesn't retain both the interest and ability. At twenty-six, she's certainly still young, still usually the most beautiful woman in a given room. Age has only made her more comely, time hasn't yet begun to make its mark.

But he hadn't married her because she was young or beautiful. He'd married her because there had been a spark in her eyes, a burning, awful, captivating intensity that had always been missing from his own. That, so far, is the only thing time has taken from her. It hadn't happened immediately, but he suspects it is somehow his fault. Looking back, he is fairly certain it began to fade the day they decided their future would be together.

He isn't sure what he did wrong, aside from deluding himself into thinking she loved him, despite never once hearing her say it out loud. He blames the way she looked at him that one Christmas, nine months before she became Mrs. Von Lehrgen. They'd been marvelously drunk. He'd carried her up to her room after she fell asleep. He'd been taking off her shoes, just to make her comfortable, when she'd woken up.

The two of them had always been stuck in some bad comedy of misunderstandings. He thinks they probably still are, though it's no longer a comedy, except perhaps to a bored and petty God. In her defense, he had been kneeling between her legs, so maybe, for once, he could understand how she'd gotten the wrong impression.

She'd kissed him like she wanted him. She'd touched him like she wanted him. She was good at playing pretend, though, still is, so it was only what he saw in her eyes that convinced him. Just for that time, for the few minutes between her waking up and him realizing that no matter how little she'd ever acted her age, his own state of intoxication was no excuse for taking advantage of a drunken eighteen-year-old, there had been no calculation, no dishonesty, nothing hidden. The startling intensity of that gaze had been brought to bear on him only, like at that moment she'd forgotten whatever problems usually plagued her and simply wanted to love and be loved by another person.

He wishes he were a better man, but he acknowledges that if he'd known that would be the only time he'd ever see her look at him like that, he might very well have ignored the issue of whether she really understood what she was getting herself into. Is it so bad to wish he had just one memory where he was absolutely sure she'd wanted to be with him?

For a long time he'd deceived himself into thinking she did. She faked like she enjoyed their life together, and though with the clarity of hindsight he can see that it was all a ruse, at the time he'd wanted it to be true so badly he'd let himself be convinced. It isn't as though he is incapable of pleasuring his wife. It's just he thinks, sometimes, when he catches her eyes at the right moment, that she hates him for it.

So he thinks not. For tonight he'd rather pretend she married him for some reason beyond the life of easy luxury he provides her, and if he sees that resigned loathing staring back at him, the illusion will shatter.

A/N: Sorry you made it this far. I enjoy the messed up dynamic too much not to write about it.

This is the end of the story, because I had a hard time seeing a marriage entered into for all the wrong reasons ending well. The details of how they got into this mess are forthcoming. There will be spoilers up through Vol. 5 of the light novels, and very minor ones for a few plot points further on, but nothing that should give away any real action or dialogue.

Sorry if you thought from the rating you were getting something else and read a whole story about why they weren't going to be getting down to business. I didn't label it a Romance for a reason. The rest of the story is more light-hearted, but as no category exists for "characters interact only professionally until a series of unfortunate word choices leads them to believe that the other one thinks they are in a relationship," I'm just going to leave it as angst & drama, since it ends not so great for them.

Disclaimer: I do not support marriages between people in their late 30s and teenagers...

Title is from Boy George/Culture Club's 'Karma Chameleon' if you are wondering :)