Rejection. Kaworu's body doesn't move for a moment, still leaned in close. He meant every word that he said... if Shinji leaves, if he doesn't want him, it is just as right and proper. The thick, swarming, knotted feeling inside him is so strange - so new... it's invigorating somehow, in a wonderful, horrible, ecstatic, despairing way.

Finally, he sits up straight again. His fingers weave between each other and hang loosely from his wrists in his lap.

"If you need me," he begins, his head bowed, "just call my name, or come to this spot. I'll be here."

Even as he says it, his head is filled with questions - is it me? because of what I am? or is it him? punishing himself? not believing me? he was so open to him at nerv - is it because of what i did, still? - but he forces them away and focuses on this moment and the boy in the corner of his eye.

He had accepted Kaworu's invitation here... and Kaworu had been allowed to say what he wanted to say. That was all he wanted, and in that way, this night is a success.

When he turns back to him, there's sadness in his eyes, but the calm adoration hasn't left.

"Do you want me to walk you back? I'll carry your cello."