August 25, 2010
Outfit
Zechs sat cross-legged on his bed, reading from a new book. He was not anticipating the intrusion, but neither did he look up when his door opened and Treize walked in.
"Some people knock," he said without lifting his eyes from the pages.
"Some people take their friend's word for it when they say they will be reading."
Treize tossed a black clothes bag over the bed before lying himself across the foot of it, his head propped up on his left hand and elbow. He looked at Zechs for a moment before Zechs gestured towards the black bag.
"What's that?"
"That's your outfit for tonight" Treize responded with a grin.
Zechs looked back at his book. "Treize, you know I don't go to those things, it's too risky.
Treized waved of his friend's concern. "That won't be a problem, it's a costume ball." He opened the bag and began nonchalantly leafing through its contents.
"Doesn't everyone take their masks off at midnight?"
"You just have to be gone by then."
Zechs quirked an eyebrow at him. "Oh, am I Cinderella now?"
"No," was the drawn out response. Treize smirked ever so slightly, "but keep growing your hair out like that and you'll look the part."
"Hey!" Zechs raised his book sharply, but lay it back down on the bedspread and launched himself instead. Though he was still smaller than his friend, Treize's languid sprawl was not conducive to fast reactions and Zechs' leap was followed by a moment of wide eyes and a satisfactory "thud."
After a brief pause, Trieze's voice emerged from behind the foot of the bed. "That was probably not the most honourable thing you could have done."
Tilting his head up to see where Treize had falled, Zechs couldn't help his grin. "I believe you told me that it's important to consider terrain when planning an attack?"
Another pause. "Touche. For now."
Treize stood upright once more, with a minor ruffle in his shirt and approximately three hairs out of place. Tucking them neatly back where he decided they belonged, he promptly emptied the clothes bag and spread out what looked to Zechs to be a glossy mound of red.
Treize held up a billowing red shirt. "It's your colour, don't you think?"