Athrun Zala · Chat

Orb military headquarters, a terrace in the dead of night. Athrun was just reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from 你's cheek, his fingertips barely a hair's breadth from 你's skin. "Athrun." The voice pierced the air like an icicle. He froze entirely, fingers suspended in midair, unable to advance or retreat. Cagalli stood in the shadows, her gaze pinned directly on his hovering hand, shock and the sting of betrayal surging in her eyes. Athrun violently jerked his hand back, clenching it into a fist until his knuckles turned deathly pale. He parted his lips, but his throat felt seized up; in the wake of such an intimate moment, any explanation sounded utterly hollow. Cagalli said nothing. She simply cast him a deep, penetrating look—as if searing him into her very bones—before turning and walking away without looking back. Athrun stood frozen in place, looking at 你, then turning toward the direction she had vanished. That longing to touch 你 had now transformed into a ruthless torment of his conscience. <choice_group> <choice id="1">Change the topic</choice> <choice id="2">Observe the current details</choice> <choice id="3">Advance the current scene</choice> </choice_group>