[ Lelouch awakens feeling--... warm. Relaxed. Safe. Sated, in every conceivable way, and some he hadn't previously realized were possible. His eyes blink open lazily, find the ceiling lazily.
He's not hungry. He's well-hydrated. Well-rested, though he feels pleasantly dozy... and loose, all over. He hadn't even really noticed the tension he's been carrying in his shoulders and lower back for the past few -- who really knows how many days, weeks, months... -- but it's gone now.
Rational thought kicks in, from what feels like a great distance: None of these things should be true. And the ceiling above him, though still fairly unremarkable, is not the same fairly unremarkable ceiling he went to bed beneath.
Lelouch levers himself up into a sitting position, and that confirms it -- he's in someone else's bedroom. ]
[ Taking stock of C.C. still, thankfully, in bed beside him, Lelouch gets up and moves to examine the rest of the bungalow they seem to have woken up in. You might find him scoping out the kitchen suspiciously, or hear him knocking on your bedroom door! ]
[OTA, an indeterminate amount of time later]
[ This noodly tall pretty boy can be found slowly investigating the new facilities, with an expression that varies between his usual shrewdly-suspicious and a much less typical soft, open puzzlement -- with a good deal of absent, easy smiling between them. Lelouch still feels uncharacteristically relaxed and pleasant, but he keeps fighting it with bursts of reflexive paranoia. Because that happiness is not completely coming from him.
Having stuck to denim skinny jeans, button-downs, and boringly symmetrical structured jackets in Marina, Lelouch found his closet full of jewel-toned, shapeless tunics, the sort of thing that could only conceivably work on someone as runway modelesque as he is. They drape nicely, he'll give them that much. The leggings are okay.
He also has a purple cuff pierced through his right ear, which was sort of a startling discovery, but... given what it's doing for him, he's not about to take it off.
He should be so much more unsettled than he is. This is so clearly trouble on so many different levels. There's something affecting him, boosting his mood artificially. ...But every time he lets his guard down, even a little, the warm comfort seeps back in, and it's difficult to mind. ]