Insatiable
Warning(s): Blood sucking (both consensual and...not so consensual). Exactly what it says on the tin. There will also be sexual content in later chapters.
AN: This is a work in process for the Code Geass kink meme, which is not all that active at the moment. (Hint, hint: post prompts, post fills!) There will be four chapters in total. This fic is pretty experimental for me both in terms of writing style and the subject matter. But a challenge is fun, right? :D Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!
Lelouch remembers blood.
It was on the tip of his tongue, a bitter, copper taste. The girl lay slack in his arms, but the red on her skin seemed alive, a twisting, turbulent thing. The taunts, the guns: they all seemed like background noise at the time. Faint and indistinct.
The men continued to jeer. One of them said something. Lelouch looked up and saw their mocking smiles. Their contemptuous faces. He was nothing but a schoolboy to them. They thought they had him cornered. Beaten. Lelouch smirked and stood up.
I, Lelouch vi Britannia, command all of you to die!
He thought it, and his wish came true.
After Lelouch kills his brother and by extension the viceroy of Area 11, he buys his little sister a box of chocolates. Since she can't see, he usually gets her boxes in interesting shapes that she can feel. A star, a diamond, a bear, a flower. This time he chooses a heart. He knows that she will giggle and say he's cheesy, but he will also get to see that beautiful smile of hers.
But, when he enters the clubhouse, he drops the box.
"I'm glad you're home, Lelouch. Shirley told me you'd be back a little late, but I was still a bit worried," Nunnally says with a smile. "C.C. also told me you would be alright."
Lelouch's mouth feels dry. "…C.C.?"
"That's my name," states the green-haired woman sitting at the table. She's occupied with folding a piece of origami paper into a crane. Her small, pale hands work quickly, and her eyes are narrowed. She does not even bother to glance up.
Nunnally giggles. "It's a strange name, isn't it?" Her expression suddenly becomes thoughtful. "…Lelouch, is C.C. your girlfriend?"
"What?" Lelouch splutters. "No! Of course not!"
"He's my partner," C.C. says, finally looking up. Her eyes are wide and golden, and they gaze at Lelouch levelly. "If he fulfills his end of our contract, then he will spend the rest of his days by my side."
Nunnally's eyebrows furrow. "So, it's something deeper than that then? Is she your fiancée?" She frowns. "Are you two engaged?"
Before Lelouch can rebuff these theories, C.C. interjects: "I would like something to drink."
This is all completely insane, but Lelouch knows to take the opportunity. "That's right," Lelouch says, attempting to keep his voice light. "After coming all this way, you must be thirsty, C.C. I apologize for being a poor host. I'll fix you something right up." Lelouch continues a cheerful babble as he yanks C.C. by the elbow and drags her to his room.
He practically flings her inside and slams the door shut. "Who are you? How are you still alive?" he demands, his voice little more than a hiss. "Were you somehow able to revive in Shinjuku?"
Instead of answering immediately, C.C. plops down on his bed. She yawns and kicks off her shoes. Finally, she says, "A gentleman would offer a lady a beverage before interrogating her."
It's so…extraordinarily inane. Lelouch grits his teeth. He has no idea what this woman is playing at. He understands that they formed a contract. That he received power. But that's it. She, on the other hand, seems to have a store of knowledge, and the only way he can hope to gain a sliver of it is by partaking in her childish stipulations.
"Fine," Lelouch mutters. "What do you want?"
"I suppose you'll do for now."
The words take awhile to hit home. They don't hit when C.C. rises off the bed. They don't hit when she grabs him by the shoulders and buries her nose against his neck. They don't hit when she licks a line on the skin covering his jugular vein. They don't even hit when she pierces into him with her teeth.
It's when she begins to suck.
Lelouch staggers back slightly, but she has latched on like some sort of parasite. He can feel his blood flowing into her mouth. He can hear his blood flowing down her throat. It's so incredibly unexpected that he's speechless even as she pulls back. Her expression is nonchalant even as blood pools on her lips.
"…You're a vampire." He's surprised he's even able to gasp that out.
"I never understood why everyone's so slow on the uptake," C.C. says, plopping down on the bed again. She licks the blood from her lips almost as an afterthought, like it's marinara sauce from a pizza slice. "It's not like I try to hide it."
The pieces are beginning to click. "You gave me your blood," Lelouch says slowly. He presses his fingers against the bite mark on his neck and is somewhat relieved to find that it's not sticky. "That's what gave me my power."
"How are you liking it?" C.C. asks, leaning forward. "The power I gave you?"
And Lelouch can't help but smile at that. As if that's a question worth asking. "I appreciate it," he says. "It allows me to move my plans along faster than I intended."
C.C. crosses her arms over her chest. "You shouldn't. It's not like I'm not getting anything out of this."
Lelouch raises an eyebrow. "Of course I know that. I'll fulfill my end of the contract."
"You'll become a vampire." Her voice is toneless.
Lelouch nods.
"You'll also be responsible for feeding me."
"…What?"
C.C. blinks. "I require human blood." She cocks her head to the side and licks her lips. "Did I not make that clear?"
Lelouch frowns. He remembers the words of her contract, and he is almost certain there was no mention of "feeding." "…I never agreed to that."
C.C. shrugs. "Suit yourself," she says, tone as blithe as ever. "It'll wear off in a couple of days, anyway."
Lelouch's eyes widen. "What? I thought—"
"I never guaranteed the power was eternal," she says, cutting him off. "Though I admit I'm used to this sort of entitlement."
"So, if I don't feed you, then my power will go away?" he asks, unable to conceal his disbelief. It's difficult to comprehend. Something so powerful. So commanding, controlling, compelling. Poof. Gone. Just like that.
"Or if I fast," C.C. says. She stands up and looks Lelouch straight in the eye. But then her gaze trails upward. Her eyes are honed in on his forehead. No, he realizes, his skull.
"Or if I make you forget."
Lelouch feels the warmth of the sun against his eyelids. When he stretches, it reaches his limbs, encapsulating them in heat. He smiles slowly, lazily and knows he will have to rouse all too soon. In the back of his head, he wonders where C.C. spent the night. Did she get any sleep at all? Leisurely, he opens one eye and then the other. Ah, there she is: leaning back in his chair, eyes closed. The sunlight just brushes against her hair now, but soon it will engulf her, casting a polish on her green hair and the t-shirt of his she's wearing…
The sun. Lelouch's eyes snap all the way open. The sun. She's a vampire.
Before he can think, he's ripping his comforter off his body and nearly tripping over his own feet to close the blinds. He nearly slams his knee into the wall, and his clever fingers suddenly become clumsy as he tries to shut them.
"What are you doing?"
Lelouch finally manages to close them, blocking out that damned sun. He's panting from the few feet it took to run from his bed to the window, and it takes him a minute before he's able to turn on that woman who is wearing an expression that is a little too innocuous.
"What happens when you go out in the sunlight?" Lelouch demands, his hands clenching into fists.
C.C. blinks. It's one slow, long, lackadaisical blink. "I melt."
Her voice is completely devoid of emotion. Deadpan humor. Lelouch grits his teeth. She sucks people's blood. She calls herself a vampire. How was he supposed to know the lore didn't apply? But he says nothing, knowing that getting into an argument will only serve to make him look more foolish. Still, there is a question tugging at his mind, pricking his brain. So later:
"You don't have a weakness?" He asks this in an offhand way as he sketches out battalion formations on a sheet of paper. (After all, he doesn't exactly have strength in numbers. Not yet, anyway). C.C. has already made herself at home, lounging on his bed and staring up at his ceiling like it holds the mysteries to the universe.
"Why would I tell you?"
Lelouch smirks. She fell right into his trap. "Well then." He smirks and folds his elbows behind his head. "So you do have an Achilles' heel."
"Are you going to start wearing garlic cloves or stab me with a stake when you don't get your way?" C.C. says. "I'll tell you now that you'd only be wasting your time."
"If you told me your weakness, then I could protect you."
Silence. It stretches for such a long time that Lelouch looks up. Did she fall asleep? No, she's still staring up at the ceiling, but the expression on her face is…disconcerted? Is that it? Lelouch does not get much time to gauge it because her face quickly becomes a mask once more.
"That isn't necessary," C.C. murmurs, tone bland and monotonous. "If you become a vampire, then you'll learn it soon enough."
She stretches and stands up, and Lelouch expects her to say something else. But she does not. She puts on her straitjacket and stares out at nothing.
He has to admit that he likes the feeling. It's like an elastic shortening, a barrier falling. The mind becomes softer and more malleable. Easy answers spill from guileless lips. No deception. No lies. Everything is laid out.
When he stops, the elastic stretches again. The barrier is rebuilt. The mind is congealed with defenses.
Oh, wait.
"Don't tell anyone about Shinjuku."
Kallen's eyes widen and then narrow. The grip on her mind is gone. "What are you talking about?" she demands, her mouth twisting into a frown. "What about Shinjuku?"
Lelouch blunders and blathers and makes up terrible excuses, and he knows for certain that C.C. would be smirking if she could see him.
When Kallen gets champagne spilt on her, Lelouch sees it as the perfect opportunity. Sometimes the comedic clumsiness of his friends has its perks.
He had C.C. change outside in order to ensure the rest of the student council members wouldn't see her. It worked out well. No students were nearby since classes had ended, and C.C. was the farthest thing from self-conscious.
"So, remind me," C.C. says, walking by his side to the clubhouse. "What am I erasing?"
She's wearing an Ashford school uniform (Nunnally's next year), and her long green hair is tied up in twin ribbons. The wind causes it to bounce and flounce off her shoulders. It looks angry whipping around like that, like it wants to break free of its bonds.
"Shinjuku."
She raises a single eyebrow. "All of it?"
Lelouch huffs and tightens his grip on the clothes he's carrying. "Of course not. Only the time I mentioned it to her before I realized my power…" He trails off.
Of course, C.C. is more than willing to finish where he left off. "Has a one time limit?"
Lelouch nods, and C.C. smirks. "Sloppy," she says.
"No one asked you," Lelouch snaps, gritting his teeth. "Just do as you're told."
The wind whips harder, and those ribbons are the only things keeping her hair from turning into a frenzy. "You order me around when it's you who has been careless." C.C. tilts her head to the sky. "I expect compensation, you know."
Lelouch smirks. That will be easy enough to provide. This is war, after all. "Fine," he says. "Any Britannian soldier who survives decimation after my next attack."
"So sure of yourself," C.C. murmurs.
"I have to be," Lelouch says, his smirk broadening into a smile, "if I want to achieve the results I desire."
He expects C.C. to make a jab at his expense for that. Insult his ego. Question his prowess. But she does not. She continues to walk. Her hair thrashes. They reach the clubhouse from a back door.
Thankfully, for a lazy woman who does nothing but lie around all day, C.C. is very light on her feet, and Lelouch does not need to worry about Kallen hearing an extra pair of shoes. He opens the door to the bathroom, and C.C. slips in soundlessly after him.
"I brought you some clothes," Lelouch says, setting the clothes in a basket and keeping his voice light. "They're mine. I hope you don't mind."
"Thanks," Kallen says over the rumble of the shower. "It's fine."
Lelouch swallows when he notices the silhouette of her body through the shadow curtain: her thin waist broadens into wide hips, forming an hourglass figure. He coughs and looks away. He's almost positive C.C. is smirking.
But he does not get to see C.C.'s face because, a mere second later, she rips open the shower curtain.
"Eh? Who are you?" Lelouch glances up and just catches the look of bewilderment on Kallen's face.
"Poisonous gas," C.C. says just as Lelouch turns back around. Even though he can't see, he's unable to tune it out: slamming against a shower wall, a yelp, water stopping, teeth sinking in.
After that, nothing. Lelouch stares at the daedal designs on the bathroom door, even though he could car less about their intricacy. There's a mirror to his side, and he takes quick glances at himself from his peripheral vision. Makes sure there's no fear in his eyes. That his expression is composed.
"You don't have to turn around. It's not as if I require privacy."
Lelouch's peripheral reflection scowls at him. It's an indirect taunt. A challenge. Giving in would prove that he gave a damn about what she thought about him, so he continues to study the labyrinth on the door.
He hears the shower curtain being drawn. "I'm done."
Lelouch exhales. "Even right before?"
"Just like you asked, and she'll be in a daze for a few minutes."
Lelouch turns back around, and he isn't at all surprised to see the tracks of red on C.C.'s cheeks. For some reason, it still unnerves him, though.
"I like her," C.C. says suddenly.
Lelouch raises both eyebrows. "…What?"
"That girl. I must have drained over a pint from her, and she didn't so much as wobble." She tips her head to the side, and one of her pigtails brushes against a bloodstained cheek. "You care about her."
Lelouch snorts and shakes his head. "You're being presumptuous, C.C. I'm willing to cut ties with Kallen and the others in her resistance group if necessary."
"That would be a shame." C.C. rubs some of the blood off her cheeks with the heel of her hand and licks it. "I like her flavor."
"You…" Lelouch clears his throat. "You should get back to my room. Make sure no one sees you."
C.C. simultaneously smirks and nods, slipping out of the bathroom with rosy red cheeks. Lelouch waits for the shower to start up before leaving and joining the rest of the student council in front of a TV screen.
The relief he felt before instantly evaporates because the man on the television screen is Private Suzaku Kururugi, and he's accused of killing Prince Clovis.
After Zero's big debut, Lelouch spends the next morning monitoring the status of Kururugi Suzaku. When he googles Orange, pictures pop up of Jeremiah Gottwald, eyes wide and bewildered and Suzaku, beaten and bruised, head down, hands tied behind his back.
And then there is Zero standing tall and proud. His arms lifted. All eyes trained on him.
Lelouch can't even think about anything but Suzaku that fool as he goes to class. He uses his phone to look up people's conjectures on the court proceedings for case #107:
I hope that filthy Eleven rots in prison! He may not have killed P. Clovis, but he's definitely in cahoots with Zero!
Well, his charge was for killing Clovis, wasn't it…?
Didn't Zero kidnap him tho? :/
Tttly staged!
Well, I think they should torture Kururugi so they can find out more about this Orange character. Apparently, Jeremiah won't crack.
The comments make Lelouch want to throw up, but he manages to hold back the bile. There's no Internet connection in the men's room.
It's (finally) during passing period that he manages to learn the verdict: Private Suzaku Kururugi from the Area 11 military forces has been acquitted for the murder of Prince Clovis due to lack of evidence against him. He sighs in relief.
"Hi, Lulu. What are you looking at?"
Lelouch immediately closes his laptop. "Noth—" His relief is short-lived. Only a few yards behind Shirley is a green-haired girl wearing his clothes and twirling under the trees.
That leech…
She even waves at him! Lelouch doesn't realize he's clenching his fists and gritting his teeth until Shirley's eyes widen in concern. "Lulu, are you okay? Is something wrong?" She starts to turn around…
…but Lelouch stands up and grabs her face just in time.
At least C.C. now has the sense to scamper out of sight. When Lelouch returns his attention to Shirley, her face is beet-red, and her eyes are very, very wide. Damn it. How is he supposed to cover his tracks? Ah…
"You have beautiful eyes," Lelouch says. Shirley's eyes widen even more, and she makes a noise akin to a squeak. "…Like emeralds glittering in the sunlight."
The effect is almost instantaneous. Shirley's mouth—an "o" of surprise—twists into a pout, and her eyebrows furrow in annoyance. "That isn't very funny, Lulu," she says, face still flushed. "Did Rivalz dare you to say that?"
"…Something like that." C.C. is nowhere in sight; Lelouch allows his hands to drop. "I have to run to chem. class. I'll see you around!"
He dashes off, not even giving Shirley time to say "good-bye." He needs to have a talk with that woman…
Unfortunately, when he reaches the roof, it takes him more than a minute to regain his breathing. C.C. glances at him before leaning against the railing and focusing on a building or a tree or the breeze. Apparently, all these things are more interesting to her than his concerns or her own selfishness.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he finally demands, voice still slightly croaky.
"…I was hungry."
Lelouch's eyes widen. "You've been feeding on students?"
"Only one, and I erased her memory afterward," she murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I made sure no one saw."
"You can't just—"
"There was also an anatomy class doing some sort of blood typing lab so I had a few samples," she continues. "Some tasted a bit better than others. Do you have any friends taking anatomy?"
"Shirley…and Rivalz, I think. But what does that have to do with—"
"That explains it then."
She turns around then, expression slightly amused as if Lelouch doesn't understand something that's obvious. Her words explain absolutely nothing to him, but he can't bring himself to admit that.
Instead, he turns his face to the side and says, "You don't belong here. If you've fed, then there's no reason for you to stay."
"I never said my appetite was sated."
He locks eyes with her. She licks her lips. Lelouch heaves a heavy sigh and begins to unbutton his jacket. She watches him. He unbuttons the first few buttons on his white undershirt. She walks toward him.
"Only this once," Lelouch says. When C.C. raises an eyebrow, he elaborates by saying, "This type of thing…it should be done in private."
C.C. cocks her head to the side. She is right in front of him now. "…Do you eat in private?"
"No, but that's—"
He's cut off when her teeth sink into him. No matter how many times she does this, he cannot stop his involuntary reactions: his body stiffening, his eyes widening, the slight tremor when she starts to stuck. All he can do is bear it the best he can. Keep his mouth clamped shut and stare at some point in the distance. Try to think of it as a shot even though a shot would never last this long…
In a way, it's funny. He always feels most anxious around her when she does this. He feels as if he's losing all of his control in these moments. When it ends, he feels a distinct sense of liberation.
C.C. always looks satisfied when she takes his blood.
When Suzaku begins attending Ashford, Lelouch invites him to dinner. He tells himself it's for Nunnally's sake more than anything else. She had been fretting over him since he had been charged with Clovis' murder. Even when Zero rescued him, she continued to fret.
("I'm glad Zero saved Suzaku, but what do you think he's trying to do?" Nunnally asked as Lelouch tucked her into bed. "Does he really think he can liberate Japan?"
Lelouch was glad she couldn't see his frown. "I wouldn't know, Nunnally." He kissed her on the forehead. "But no matter what, I'll do anything I can to keep you safe. Remember that.")
Now Nunnally and his friend laugh together in the dining room as Lelouch refills a teapot in the kitchen. C.C. is there, of course, even though he told her to stay in his room.
"That boy," she murmurs. "He's the soldier from Shinjuku." She's leaning against the sink, her arms crossed over her chest in a cavalier manner.
"Yes," Lelouch says, slightly terse. "He's a friend. What about him?"
"Nothing," C.C. says, stretching her arms over her head. "I just thought I smelt something good."
He doesn't ask her what she means by that. He does not want to know. Lelouch finishes refilling the teapot and rejoins his sister and friend.
Lelouch isn't entirely sure how Suzaku manages to rope him into actually attending gym class. Puppy dog eyes and a "pretty please" really should not have worked on him, but they do. Suzaku smiles an extraordinarily dopey smile and acts like he achieved some remarkable feat. Lelouch rolls his eyes, but his lips quirk up just a little.
They change next to each other in the locker room. Lelouch almost forgot how ridiculous the gym uniforms were. Collared shirts and spandex. An unflattering combination to say the least.
He removes his shirt and pants, and that is when he notices Suzaku staring openly at his bare chest. His eyes are very wide like he can't believe what he's seeing. Lelouch flushes but resists the urge to cover himself, and, suddenly, that big, dopey smile reappears on Suzaku's face once more.
"Congratulations, Lelouch."
What the hell? But when Lelouch looks down, his eyes widen to the size of saucers because C.C.'s bites trail down his neck to his chest. There is a route of red on his pale skin, and that's when he realizes.
"This isn't what it looks like!" Lelouch splutters, his face becoming red and hot. He never had to worry about this because the collar of his school uniform was so high, and gym class had never even been a consideration.
But Suzaku—damn him damn him damn that idiot—made him drop his guard.
Suzaku just chuckles and crosses his arms to his chest. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about, Lelouch." He has the gall to look amused! "It's normal to have a girlfriend at this age."
"It's not – she's not –!"
"She's pretty possessive, huh?" Suzaku cocks his head to the side, and his eyes trail even lower. "You have a lot on you."
"You're an idiot," Lelouch spits, throwing on his gym shirt in a frenzy. "You have no idea what you're talking about."
And so Suzaku the idiot spends the entire gym period trying to squeeze questions out of him. Is she someone he knew? What's she like? Can he meet her? Lelouch tries to throw a basketball at his face, but he just catches it and makes a three-pointer.
Lelouch appraises the damage when he returns home. Six on his neck. Four on his chest. Her purchased concealer and a box of Band-aids at a local pharmacy, and he now places them on the bathroom counter.
He dips a finger into the concealer and uses it on the majority of the…blemishes. He reserves the Band-aids for the reddest marks: one on his neck and another on his chest.
"What? Do you think I'm infected?"
She's in the bottom right corner of the mirror, her eyes locked on his and her face its usual mask of inscrutability. Lelouch grits his teeth.
"Go away, leech."
C.C. cocks her head to the side. "Someone saw."
"Go. Away," he enunciates.
"I wonder who it was."
Lelouch's eyes narrow. She knows who it is. She always knows. He places the cap back on the bottle of concealer and turns around to face her. He wants to glare at her, but she breaks eye contact to stare at his neck and chest.
"You should have bought another bottle of make-up," she says, her expression as blasé as ever. "You'll run out soon enough."
That's when she finally, finally goes away, turning her back on him and padding out of his room, not allowing him to get the last word in.
Then at dinner, Nunnally asks Lelouch what a hickey is, and he nearly chokes on his water. His little sister's eyebrows are raised in concern, and she looks genuinely curious. Damn that leech.
"Did C.C. tell you about them?" Lelouch asks, dabbing his mouth with his napkin, already knowing the answer.
"Yes, but she wouldn't tell me what they were. She said you had a lot though," Nunnally says, her delicate face creasing with worry. "Is it something bad?"
There is a long pause. Finally, Lelouch says, "Yes, Nunnally, they are very bad." His tone becomes firmer. "Never allow anyone to give you one."
Nunnally looks even more confused than before, but she bites her lip and says nothing. Lelouch stares at his plate and picks at his salad, allowing the silence to drown out his thoughts. When he finally looks up, he notices Sayoko at the end of the table, head bent but lips curved into a knowing smirk.
C.C. does not require sleep. She spends the morning lounging around and nighttime pacing about. Therefore, she does not need a bed, and she certainly does not need to be crawling into Lelouch's.
"Get out, C.C.," Lelouch hisses when he feels a weight settle beside him. The bed sighs, and he turns to the sight of a full head of green hair.
"It's convenient like this," the head says.
Lelouch grunts but says nothing. He hopes that if he ignores her, then she'll just go away. Instead, she turns around, and her eyes are wide and bright.
"In case I want a midnight snack," she says.
Lelouch does not have much time to think before C.C. practically pounces on top of him like a lion would its prey. Her movements are always so sloth-like that it catches him off guard. It is not until she has grabbed both of his wrists that he begins to struggle.
"No," Lelouch utters, squirming fruitlessly beneath her. He tries to keep his voice firm and unwavering, but he sounds embarrassingly breathless. C.C. is straddling him now and grabs both of his wrists, and he can feel her fingertips press against his tendons. "Stop it."
C.C. stops moving and stares at him for a long moment. Finally, she says, "You act like a girl about to lose her virginity." Her lips quirk up into a smirk. "But that isn't so far from the truth, is it?"
"What are you…?"
"Hush." She presses a fingertip against Lelouch's mouth, and he falls silent.
Then C.C. lets go of one of his hands, and Lelouch feels a pang of relief. This is probably just one of her little games. She is probably just trying to get a rise out of him. Yes, yes, that is it.
But then his blood runs cold when she places his other hand to her lips. He freezes when she slips his index finger into her mouth.
She stares him straight in the eye as she sucks on his finger. It's a strange juxtaposition: her cold hand and warm mouth, and Lelouch wants to say something. Command something. But there is no point. Words work wonders on people, but they hold little bearing to her.
There is a slight prick, Lelouch winces, and then his finger slides out of her mouth. It is shiny from her saliva, and there is a small bubble of red at the tip. C.C. says nothing when she rises off of him. Just licks her lips and leaves. Lelouch spends an inordinate amount of time staring at the tiny crimson globule.
In the morning, he puts a Band-Aid on it. Shirley is the only one who bothers to ask about it, and he tells her it's a paper cut. What else would it be?
She flushes in embarrassment and apologizes for asking a stupid question.
Zero calls them POWs.
He informs the Black Knights that keeping a select few alive is necessary. A few broken bones, and they may reveal classified information. Necessary information. If they're going to win the war against Britannia, achieve the results they want, then they have to sometimes take the less than savory path.
Lies, lies, all lies. They are her sustenance.
The bodies begin to stack up. They putrefy and rot, and C.C., of course, does not give a damn.
"You can't just…" Lelouch trails off and surveys the room. The Britannian corpses are sucked dry of blood and are propped about like scattered toys. Like marionettes with missing strings. Like toy soldiers with their shiny boots and brass buttons. He exhales. "The Black Knights' headquarters aren't the place for…this."
"Then what is?" She sits in the center of a circle of stiffs like she's in the mush pot for some infernal game of Duck Duck Goose. When she cocks her head to the side, the light catches on her lips. They are bright red. It looks like she's wearing lipstick.
Lelouch turns his face to the side because his eyes are beginning to water. The stench is overpowering. Some of the bodies have been decaying for weeks. "That's for you to figure out. Just get rid of them immediately."
"You gave them to me."
"Yes," Lelouch says curtly. "What of it?"
C.C. rises and steps over several bodies so she's only a few feet from Lelouch. Her expression is accusatory, and her eyes are narrowed. "You're telling me to throw away my own presents."
"If I gave you a piece of candy, then you would still be expected to throw away the wrapper," Lelouch snaps.
Instantaneously, the accusation on C.C.'s face dissipates, and her eyes widen. The corners of her mouth curve up slightly – the barest of smiles. "Then you're saying they're garbage?" she asks, and there is no denying the sliver of amusement in her voice.
Lelouch grimaces but says nothing. He knows what he has to do. He rounds up a few of the new recruits for a meeting and effortlessly crushes the barriers around their minds. When the others leave, they stay with smiles. They continue to smile as they cram the decomposing corpses into packing crates and their shoddy knightmare frames. The beams never fade as they soar in the sky, the odor permeating their cockpits. Stupid, toothy grins as they drop the bodies into a deserted desert and release the lit matches. Lelouch watches the pile burn.
Ashes are easier to dispose of.
