A/N: This was written for my very dear friend, and I hope that she enjoys it~!

Disclaimer: If I owned Code Geass, it would be rated M.

It was a painful day.

Lelouch seemed to hardly be able to look anyone in the eye and I didn't dare try to figure out why. I was trying desperately to ignore what was going on. But I knew that soon, I would have to face the tragic reality.

During class, his head rested in his hand, his jewel-like gaze held by the view of the grounds as rain poured down, drenching everything, dying it a shade darker. The gray sky flickered off in the distance, and a barely audible roll of thunder chased after. Lelouch's usually bright amethyst eyes seemed to be dulled, holding the gray clouds within them. He raised a slender hand and asked if he could go to the health office, as he wasn't feeling well. The teacher shook his head, and waved him out, continuing the lesson.

I knew better though. I knew exactly where Lelouch was really going.

By the time class was over and Lelouch hadn't returned, I knew for sure that he was where I suspected. During passing period, rather than going to my next class, I made my way up to the roofs.

"Lelouch?"

I was sitting by a low wall, knees drawn up to my chest- by this time, soaking wet, shivering. But then, I heard his soft voice.

"Lelouch, are you okay?" he asked as he sat down beside me. I nodded, wiping my eyes. Perhaps he would mistake tears for rain if I was lucky.

"I'm fine," I lied, "Just tired."

"Worried for Nunally?" he asked.

"Yeah," I sighed, and was surprised as he put an arm around me. I was worried for so much more than just Nunally. I had the fate of the whole damned Empire resting on my shoulders, so much planning, so many details… And here he was, friend, enemy—I didn't even know what he was anymore. But despite that, he still smelled the same as when we were children. Spices I couldn't identify, pine trees… I leaned into the gesture, and then- he did something that I didn't expect-

Lelouch's lips were softer than I thought—

I held him tightly against me, and I felt his thin arms clutch onto me. My fingers threaded into his wet hair, and noticed that he was shivering slightly from the rain.

"Suzaku—" he pulled back for a moment, but I pulled him close again, kissing him a little harder, and he parted his lips.

I felt his tongue against mine—and it's funny, how for once, we were just this. Us two, holding each other in the cold rain. Suzaku's presence, despite his suspicions that would prove to be true, was a comfort. I wanted to say something to him to thank him, yet I couldn't.

He slowly lowered me to the rain soaked roof and I let a hand drift across his chest as our kisses became hungrier. I arched into him, a shiver running through my body as I felt a chilly hand across my abdomen. Neither of us bothered to ask if we were okay, if we were sure—we wouldn't have started this otherwise.

And we wouldn't have ended up here.

In the pouring rain months later.

I don't bother to ask how Le—no, Zero, got into the cockpit of the Lancelot. I'm torn as he takes off his helmet and kisses me through the cloth mask he wears. I knew it was him all along anyway.

"Stop," I say, but he pays me no mind, thin arms wrapping around me as he presses closer.

Why can't I throw him off of me? Why am I letting this happen?

I reached up and pulled the mask off his face and yes, his lips are just as soft as before. And I can't help but notice how his rain-soaked clothes stick to his thin frame, every contour explicitly defined, each almost delicate dip and curve of his body.

And I have no idea what is going through his head.

I have no idea what he's doing, but it isn't fair. It isn't fair at all.

There is still a lingering shadow of doubt in Suzaku's eyes that I wish that I could erase for good. I wish he would come with me, and be my knight, wish we could have somehow ended up different than this.

But our hearts are hammering in our chests as our bodies intertwine desperately, trying to satisfy our needs. I can feel his heartbeat against me. I roll my hips into his and elicit a gasp from his lips as my fingers tangle in his hair.

My hands move to his hips, our fingers tugging at clothing, seeking exposure. We seek to lay one another bare, trying to see if what is below our skin is still the same. His fingers rest for a moment on my chest as I let mine wander down his sides—we can't make up our minds.

Is this just another fight between us?

And it all rests with him. If Lelouch fights, I'll fight back. But he doesn't seem to want to fight. It's like he's trying to say something that won't come to his lips.

Something he's scared to say and won't let out. The reason I can tell is because I feel the same.

Perhaps we're both silently admitting something.

As he moves inside me our moans and gasps form a steady crescendo. My hands are gripping his shoulders so tightly that I'm sure it hurts. He leans up slightly, and bites and licks at my neck as he moves faster. I grind my hips down onto him, craving more—and pleasure shoots through me, sparks flying in my vision for a moment.

The way his back arches, how his body shudders as his mouth hangs open for a breath, drives me over the edge.

Our hearts pound together as he lies against me, our breaths unsteady—and for a moment, we are honest.

There is a wistful look in Suzaku's eyes, and I know. He's wishing as much as I am that maybe, something different could have happened. His green eyes search mine for an answer that I don't have.

He is all that I have left.

It is only with his hands that my mask comes off. He can still see Lelouch through everything. Perhaps he is the only one.

I lean down and kiss him softly.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, my voice just barely audible over the rain that pounds on the Lancelot.

"Lelouch, what are you-" I kiss him again to shut him up.

"For everything. For what has passed and what is to come."

"Lelouch, why are you-" But I kissed him again, trying to silently assure him that no matter what was to come, I still loved him.

But I had to pull away, running my fingers through his rain soaked hair once last time before everything came crashing down around us.

As my final breaths were leaving me, as the hatred of millions of people threatened to suffocate me even more, all my dying eyes saw was him. My body was in pain as my lungs labored to breathe, to force words out of my mouth. And when he pulled the sword from my stomach, I looked into the mask I once wore, behind the visor, into his eyes. I silently told him once more that I loved him, my fingers trailing across the helmet, leaving streaks of blood. I took a step forward, and my legs gave out beneath me- I ended up leaving a streak of crimson, shockingly bright behind me as I slid down the ramp.

I smiled softly- everything was finished.

And the world would rise—a phoenix from the ashes of ruin.