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Some days she can’t stand the sound of his voice. She reverts back to the time when hating him is simpler and she lashes out with fists and angry words that cut deeper than any knife ever will. She will feel remorse later when her hatred is soothed, but for a moment, the hurt, the pain on his face brings her a deep satisfaction.
Some days he can’t look at her. She reminds him of all things weak and ugly and terrible in the world and all he can see in her face is the lines of age passing and, in her hair, the fading brown of youth into the gray of the old. She represents death and his own impending heartache. It is simpler to drink his sorrow away, to stumble back to their rooms barely standing and ignore her disapproving frown. It is easier this way sometimes.
Some days, her heart bursts with affection for him. She smiles softly at his antics and counters his witty remarks with her own. She walks hand in hand with him through the gardens, not bearing to be separated from him. She laughs with him and think to herself that this must be the love they write about in books. She runs away from him in the castle halls while he chases her and she laughs joyously, with more freedom than she ever had. Yes, this is how love should be.
Some days, he loves her so much it hurts. He watches her sleep, ethereal in the morning light, running a finger over her curved ear. He watches her get dressed in the rooms they share, and they walk hand in hand to breakfast together and he can’t think of anyone more well suited to him than her. They share everything, they are never parted. He loves everything about her.
Jude and Cardan will always love each other, but somedays loving each other is too painful.