Sunday. The day meant for fulfilling her desires involving idleness. How perfect.
C.C. sighed, stretching out her limbs as far as she pleased, and in the process invading Lelouch's private space too.
"Could you move?", he snapped, as her toes tickled the ends of his trousers.
"I could."
"Then kindly do so."
"I never said I would.", she slyly raised a green brow, a mocking expression very well displayed atop her facial features, to which he only made a grunting noise in response- hanging somewhere between exasperation and complaint.
"It's Sunday, and you are still working.", she made an observation, met with a firm nod of the head. "There are no holidays for the leader of a terrorist group.", he stated matter-of-factly.
"Even as Zero, one needs their break."
"No, thank you, C.C. I'd rather not waste more of my precious time."
"Always so stubborn. You should laze around more, Lelouch. Take me for example.", she flaunted her languid nature as if it were something to be proud of, adding a flip of the hair to increase the dramatic effect substantially.
"You are not exactly a good example to follow, I hope you know that."
Making plans for a rebellion was no easy feat. Therefore, one cannot blame Lelouch for feeling so out of breath (even though it required no physical activity) after setting aside all those papers scribbled on with an over-the-top calligraphic handwriting, maps with marked ticks dotted throughout, and C.C.'s constant disruptions had not helped whatsoever.
He drowsily limped over to the bed, flopping down and curling up beside the other occupant; slightly hesitant initially, but damn all that- the exhaustion needed a thorough washing over.
"What do you think you're doing?", she commented, once she felt his tired breaths being drawn in and out mere centimeters away from her, his head nuzzling against the crook of her neck; causing goosebumps against the surface of her skin- not a very pleasant sensation, mind you.
"Lazing around."
"Oh? I thought you did not want to waste your precious time?"
"Even as Zero, one needs their break."
C.C. shoved him aside forcefully with the not-to-be-underestimated strength of her elbow, which led to him landing on the floor (which, thank the heavens, was carpeted), and she wickedly gleamed, staring down at his lanky figure. "You need plenty of space for that. There's enough on the floor."
"C.C.!", he growled- marking yet another failed attempt at intimidating the one and only witch.
"This is what a bad example does.", she stuck her tongue out, whereas he could not help but smile at her outrageous antics, for some reason. God knows why.
However, after a few minutes, when she let him take the bed and granted a "special service" in return for the endless boxes of pizza she had ordered previously from his credit card, and gave a massage to relieve him of his headache (though, Lelouch would admit, it only increased the pain, but he did not speak a word of it), that too God knows why.
Maybe Sundays weren't so bad.