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The angel's pale hands reach out towards the vast nothingness between himself and the Earth.
There is no rush in the movement. Kaworu extends his arms as if approaching something skittish, something that might vanish if startled. His fingers spread out slowly and deliberately, as he carefully angles his palms so that they are upturned.
Cradled by the hollow of his palms, the planet appears impossibly small. Reduced from an imposing, merciless thing into something fragile and yielding.
Its light spills softly across his skin, warm in a way the moon has never been. The warmth seeps into him, sinking past bone and thought, straight into that aching place within his chest he never learned how to empty.
He cups it the way one might cup a newborn child's face— with fear that the slightest pressure could cause it to crumble in an instant.
It 'responds', with a soft glow against his pale skin.
The sight pulls out a long, unsteady exhale from his lungs.
His eyes soften ever so tenderly, pale lashes lowering until he can only see half of what is in front of him.
"..There you are," he whispers under his breath.
The words are not meant for the Earth itself, but rather, for the only person it even exists for.
In his mind, that far-off world reshapes into that person.
And suddenly—
Unmistakably—
"Shinji."
As if the entire planet is only a stand-in for him.
The thought hits him with devastating clarity.
His fingers twitch.
His grip tightens.
Not to hurt— never to hurt. Not him. Not Shinji.
His chest tightens painfully.
The sensation spreads— heat blooming within his very bones, his pulse quickening, his body completely and utterly betraying him. A faint flush creeps up his neck, dusting his cheeks as emotion swells too fast to contain. And yet, despite the passionate emotion, his eyes remain utterly unclouded by sin.
Only by tears.
"...Ah," Kaworu breathes, voice shaking despite himself.
He allows himself to escape in that comfortable dream just for a second.
His thumbs gently stroke the empty space— Shinji's face.
It's not hard for him to imagine it.
His hands tremble now, no longer from restraint alone, but from the overwhelming clarity of it— from how easily his mind fills the void with Shinji’s presence. The effort of wanting it so much.
He's had so much time to memorize it, after all.
The exact curve of his eyes. The gentle slope of his nose. The softness of his lips.
"...How cruel," he murmurs, with an exhausted smile. "What good is this physical vessel..."
His breath stutters again, sharper this time.
“…if I can’t even use it to hold you?”
His fingers carefully intertwine, as if he were hiding something too precious to reveal.
“I’d be gentle,” Kaworu says, voice barely a whisper.
Not a promise.
A plea.
“I know how fragile you think you are,” he says, tender and reverent all at once.
“I know where you’re afraid to be touched.”
By anyone but him.
His forehead dips slightly, shoulders trembling, the longing in him too vast to stay contained.
He just has to wait a bit longer.
No matter how long it takes—
"I love you."