that's probably a very pretty thing that lelouch is not getting to properly enjoy woe
[ --welp. ]
...Good morning.
[ He says it back determinedly. Wills himself to ignore the tightness of his own grip on the refrigerator door, and contemplates the merits of shutting it vs. sticking his head deeper inside and pretending to need to inspect the contents in much greater detail. It's such a good excuse for not having to turn around and actually look Suzaku in the eye or anything.
There's a strong urge to pick at his polo shirt, straighten it or something. Push his hair out of his eyes. Otherwise -- fix his own appearance, to make himself at least physically immune to judgment when he's sure every other thing about him is wrong, by you.
FLEIJA. It feels like so long ago. And he remembers so little of it. Clinically he supposes he went into something of a fugue state... ]