Color Blind

_____

White

It was Friday night and I was in a room full of people. I generally avoid crowds, especially this kind of crowd – the loud, snobbish, filthy rich – but there was no way around it. They were all in here for me, to celebrate me, paintings, and my success. And in front of me there's this woman. This wonderful woman I haven't seen in such a long time, smiling sweetly and looking at me with those sparkling gems she had for eyes.

Last time I saw her, Shirley, she was sitting on a run-down couch in my living room, with her back straight and eyes full of wounded pride, but even back then, she had a sort of dignity that didn't come easily and a certain way with words. You didn't feel sorry for her; you respected her, even if her position wasn't a desirable one. She told me that nothing mattered more than her loved ones' happiness, and for that, no sacrifice would be too great. It didn't matter if that meant leaving aside her happiness and contentment. Well, one has to admit, she was a praise-worthy woman.

"How is…" Why can't I find my words? It's been so long, and yet… "…I mean, how are the two of you…?"

She knew what I was talking about. It didn't take a genius to realize whom I had in mind, after all.

A sad little smile made its way unto her features. She looked awfully beautiful like that, with her ginger locks spilling over her naked shoulders and with that determined, but still hurt look reflecting in the depths of her eyes. I would like to paint her like this, I said to myself. Like a caring protector, a mother in every sense of the word.

"We're…okay. I didn't think we would be, honestly, but in the end, life happened. Lelouch and I… are just fine, Suzaku."

There was that smile again. Happy, not because she was fine with him, but because he was fine with her. There was a subtle difference there, maybe most do not even realize it, but then again, I am very much of a masochist, so I tend to notice things that hurt me. Stupid, stupid Suzaku. Wounds like these shouldn't hurt, not anymore. Not when they are my fault to begin with.

"I am happy for you. Truly. You both deserve only the best and …"

What the hell I am talking about? I'm sure that Shirley doesn't want to hear hollow remarks. They're not ill meaning, because I wish them all the best, but I cannot help feel a tad bitter. After all, here she's telling me how nice it was to be married to the love of my life and how he has forgotten all about me. It's a very hypocritical thing to say. Aren't I the one who told him to forget about me? And what happened to my "Don't get attached policy"? But oh, it seems Faith doesn't like me all that much, because if she did, she wouldn't have made Shirley part of the crowd tonight.

"I'm sure Lulu would have loved to say hello, but unfortunately, he had some…business to attend tonight."

Lying doesn't do her well. She is awful at it, I noticed. Her cheeks get a faint pink glow and her eyes run around the room, looking at anything, except the one she is lying to. Shirley needs to learn from Lelouch; he was always a fabulous liar. Or better yet, I can try to teach her a thing or two, if she ever wants to learn. It seems lying is a skill I should be proud of, or at least that is what one or two people have told me. That is beside the point, however. I don't understand her need to make up an excuse for him. I wouldn't want to see myself, had I been in his shoes. I'll let her get away with the lie.

"Shirley, can you please tell him…"

I'm so sorry?

I miss you?

I'm still desperately, hopelessly, sickeningly in love with you?

"Tell him I said 'hello'."

"I'll tell him that, Suzaku. I'm sure he'll want to talk to you as well. If you ever have the time…"

Her voice was soft and inviting, relaxing. It was like she was trying to sooth all of my worries, make my anxieties melt, with a single word. Maybe that was the reason my Lelouch had married her in the first place. The overwhelming kindness that she possessed was enough to charm any man into loving her. Some women are just born with that sort of a power inside of them, and Shirley had plenty of it. It was possible that, after so many years, that man she calls her husband managed to see something that took me hours. I'm not sure how to feel about it. Happy for her? Sad for me? Maybe mad at him?

All too soon she had to leave, leaving in her wake a faint scent of lilies that tickled my nose pleasantly, so unlike the sickly-sweet aroma women wear in general. Or at least, the women I meet. She was in some different circle. Shirley…Lelouch…they are –always have been-, part of a whole different world where I am not allowed to go. A proper world, full of half-smiles and half-truths and protected by all those lies they loved so much. There are very few people like Shirley and Lelouch in that little, exclusive club of theirs. That was one of the first things I had learned in my time visiting it.

By now, the questions everyone wants answers to are: Who is Lelouch? Who is Shirley?

It's a simple really. Lelouch is a pretty memory of mine, it seems, all wrapped up in a grayish-blue cloud of cigarette smoke and with thin threads of purple silk going round and round his body. He would bring along with himself smiles and compliments, he would start fires and passions and nobody could ever argue with him. My Lelouch had a special way with words; you could never quite refuse him something. He also had a special gift: he would look at you and make you forget the existence of the world, all your doubts and he could give himself completely with just one look. To this day, I am not sure if that was a skill he had developed out of necessity or if it was a blessing given to him by some cruel god with a twisted sense of humor. I am actually leaning towards the latter, because no human should be allowed to possess eyes like Lelouch's – lying eyes, able to trap and kill almost anyone.

There may have been a time when I thought that it should be illegal for him to have such an enormous amount of power, and that there was nothing worse than being able to tell sugar-coated lies without even having to open one's lips.

As for Shirley, there is nothing wicked or twisted about her. She's one of those people you meet once or twice in a lifetime, with enough brightness to warm up a room. Also, she seems to have the constant need to help, to offer and to warm up. That is why she has Lelouch as a husband, right? To warm him up and to love him, to make him smile when he refuses to smile. Honestly.

To make those eyes of his sincere.

Good luck there, Shirley.

Last time I saw Lelouch he was looking as gorgeous as ever, with his cheeks feverishly red and those voluptuous lips of his swollen and red from biting. And his eyes…it was one of the few times they had lost their ability to woo and remained bare before me, making way for a torrent of emotions I was not capable to understand fully. Nor did I want to, not then. Now, however…oh, let's just say that now is a whole different story.

***

It was Wednesday and I was preparing to leave the art gallery. They didn't need me there, so why hang around uselessly? I was getting my jacket, when the front door opened. I turned around and there he was.

Not just anyone, but him. Tall and slim and looking as handsome as I remembered him, like a day hadn't past over him and we were still going out to coffee shops together, hiding behind shadows and behind a haze of cigarette smoke and kissing and groping and caressing each other like mad even though we both insisted we were not in love with one another. We weren't. Really. It was just a way to…pass the time. Find out more about others. Not sleep alone at night. Not walk aimlessly around. That was all.

"Hello."

"I wanted…I thought I … you…"

Why couldn't he find his words? My Lelouch was a dangerous predator, with his tongue dipped in sweet, sweet poison. However, here he was, in front of me after God-only-knows how much time, trying to find his words and looking at me not like a grown man, full of pride and intelligence and power, but like a little kid, measuring his every word in front of a teacher. It was weird and awkward and I wanted it to stop, but what did I have to say to him? For me, it was enough to observe him and take in every single detail that I've always known about, but still wanted to rediscover.

"I…Suzaku, it's been a while since I last saw you." He said finally, not really looking at me, but smiling nonetheless.

It was a tiny smile; one I had the privilege to see quite often when we were seeing each other. However, that was a long time ago and things may have changed since. Who knows? Maybe Lelouch wasn't even the one I wanted anymore. That's something I would like to discover by myself, though, not merely assume it.

___

"You've changed." Lelouch told me all of a sudden, while hiding his smile behind a cup of coffee. "I don't know how you managed, but you've grown up quite a bit, Suzaku." His voice was slightly teasing now, holding a bit of amusement.

We were sitting across from one another in a small café. It wasn't much different than the last one we were in, but then again, these cafés always looked the same to me. I didn't really see the differences, because the only important factor was sitting less than an arm's length away in the material world, but in every other aspect – the ones that really matter – we were so far away. And it wasn't even Lelouch's fault. He was still high up on his golden podium, like the first time I saw him. I just had to find a way to get him down here with me.

"It's about time, don't you think?" The answer was a tad bitter, even if I hadn't meant it that way. The last thing I wanted to do was scare him away. "Plus, one of us had to change at least a little, right? And it might as well be me. You're still the same, Lelouch."

"Is that what you think?"

There was that smile again. Flirtatious, not even a least bit serious and dripping with honey. It fit him too well, all of a sudden. When had this change happened? During our walk to the café? While we were waiting for our coffee? While I was completely and utterly lost in him?

" I'm sorry to disappoint you, dearest, but I've changed just as much as you have." He told me.

He took a drag out of his cigarette and blew the smoke towards me. He knew I hated that kind of thing, it always made me cough like crazy.

He was playing. And if he wanted to have a good time, it was my duty to give it to him, wasn't it? I leaned forward a little, looking him straight into the eye and asked him as gently as possible.

"How so?"

"I'm smarter now" he whispered in a low voice, like he was letting me in on a great big secret of his. A smirk was making its way unto his features. There was a mischievous light inside those beautiful eyes of his. "I'm not falling for the same tricks."

The warning was there. In his choice of words. In the way he rolled his words, dragging out the vowels and making sure each and every letter was overflowing with his own special brand of toxin. Even so, his lips were inviting, tantalizingly close to mine, his eyes were bewitching and his whole being was simply dazzling.

Anyone would forgive me for stealing a kiss for him, right?

His lips were warm and soft, moving delicately against my own. There was a faint taste of cigarette smoke, mixing itself with coffee. To be honest, I had expected that much from him. I will not say he tasted 'sugary-sweet' or 'incredible', because it would be a great big lie. He always tasted of coffee and smoke and I am quite willing to say that kissing Kallen with her strawberry-flavored lip-gloss was much, much better. There was no music either. No fireworks going off behind my closed eyelids and I would have liked it more if he put a little force into kissing me.

When he leaned back into his chair, our kiss was over. Lelouch looked at me from behind his thick eyelashes. There was a faint pink adorning his checks and if you looked closely enough, you could see the slight wetness on his lips. And really now, what was it about him? Weren't there others, more than willing to have me the way I was? Wouldn't it be easier with someone that didn't wear a wedding ring on his or her finger? It wasn't even the fact that he was handsome. Sure enough, there were others just as beautiful and as charming as him, right?

Lelouch started laughing. His laugh filled the coffee-shop up to the brim, overflowing slightly and wrapping around me, once, twice, until I was laughing just like him, even though I didn't have the slightest idea where this sudden amusement came from. If I were completely honest with myself, I would now admit that this was the reason I wanted him back to begin with. This strange effect he had over me, to make forget about everything and just focus on a narrow patch of land, enough for him and me. Who the hell gave him this power over me? Was there some kind of god out there who found it funny to make me fall in love with him, over and over again?

That was...well, folks, that was chapter one of my story. ^^ I have here a little comment on my choice of title and everything. First of all, I wanted to name every chapter after a colour which is, in one way or another, relevant to it. There actually is a connection between the colour white and this is it : White is both the start of a something and the end of it. Or, to be more acurate, it is rebirth of something. So it think it fits if you look at it like this. ^^

I would like to thank NobleButterfly2711 for being the beta of this chapter and helping me out with it.

Okay...please leave a review. Us poor authors live on stuff like that and it always warms up one's heart to see that people like your stories.