Chapter 2
She forgot to call him that night.
And that single piece of paper stayed buried inside her jeans' pocket, lost in the pool of discarded clothes inside her hamper.
The next day, C.C. patted herself internally for her wise decision of not getting drunk the night before. She was able to finish her work in the morning with a bonus free time before lunch arrives. However, a small itch in her mind demands to be scratched as she goes along with her regular weekend schedule as if there's something that she had forgotten to do, something she had left out.
C.C. shrugs off the uncomfortable feeling until it just became a bearable tingling that silently hums inside her ears.
The woman blinks at her alarm clock then at the wall behind it where her calendar hangs.
"Hey, C.C. are you still there?"
6:30 AM, the clock reads. September 8, the calendar shows. A Sunday.
C.C. suppresses a groan as she turns her back on the wall and buries her face in her pillow.
"Why are you calling me very early?" she sleepily mumbles.
"Because we're gonna go grab breakfast together and watch the sun rise on the balcony of the café."
"Kallen, the sun had risen already. It's actually prickling my skin as of the moment."
Indeed, her exposed skin is getting warmer and warmer from the lone sunlight that manages to sneak through the window blinds of her bedroom.
"Exactly. You're the only one who hasn't risen yet. Did you stay up late last night?"
Rubbing her eyes, her sleepiness is slowly fading away like the cold moisture on a car window. Try as she might, she knows that she cannot go back to sleep anymore. "I just read some e-books."
"I knew it!" Her friend's sudden outburst made C.C. flinch and she has to wonder where did Kallen get all this perky energy so early in the morning. "Anyway, this is actually Shirley's idea. A sort of 'thank you' for getting her home safely."
Upon hearing this, C.C. suddenly sits up on her bed and quickly, dark spots appear before her eyes. "So, it's her treat?" she mutters while holding her head.
"Uh-huh."
"You should have told me that first. Saved us some precious time. I won't be bringing my car so you better take me home after."
Kallen lets out a hearty laugh from the other end of the line then the sound of a door closing. "Great. We're already outside your apartment."
When Kallen said that 'We're already outside your apartment', C.C. thought that she was referring to herself and Shirley.
She puts an extra hop on her steps, her sneakers lightly touching the ground, delighted by the fact that she is having free breakfast courtesy of her friends. It's a cool morning so she wore one of her oversized sweaters that reaches her mid-thighs, paired with black leggings so when Kallen and Shirley suddenly get the urge to do jogging, she would be at least properly attired. A soft hum escapes her lips as she spots Kallen standing by the gate, scrolling through her phone. As soon as C.C. reaches her place, the former immediately asks where Shirley is.
"Oh, she'll meet us in the café."
"Huh? But earlier, you said 'we'." Confused, C.C.'s eyes land on the familiar car waiting for them. Slowly, its window rolls down as Kallen says, "I'm here with Lelouch."
Oh.
And now she remembers.
"Glad to see you safe," the man greets with that same smile on his face.
Slightly bending her body and leaning forward so that she is eye level with Lelouch, C.C. tucks a stray hair strand behind her ear and says, "Ah, sorry for not texting. I was tired when I got home that I honestly forgot about it."
Kallen hooks her arm around hers and lightly tugs C.C. towards her body. "He will be tagging along with us, is that alright?"
"Sure," agrees C.C. as she transfers her gaze to her friend. Then, at the back corner of her mind, a vague memory of Lelouch checking out Shirley at the bar quietly blooms and plants its seed in her thoughts.
By the time they arrived at the café, the sun is high and the establishment is already full of customers thanks to the unexpected traffic jam they encountered on their way. The ride was uneventful with C.C. taking a nap at the backseat while Kallen and Lelouch talked in the background.
So, when she steps out of the car, her low pigtails are in disarray, her eyes find their enemy in the bright morning sun. In an attempt to fix her appearance quickly, she removes her hair ties and begins combing her hair with her fingers. Ah, what a windy day. Hair strands keep escaping from her grip.
"Here, let me."
Before C.C. can even comprehend what is happening, a pair of large hands gather her hair on her nape and starts braiding it, creating a loose waterfall behind her back. The tips of his fingers brushed against her skin sending shivers down to her nerves. It's a common fact among her friends that she is ticklish on her neck area and now, she is holding her breath to stop a whimper from escaping her lips.
"I always do this with my younger sister. Her hair is as long as yours and she often asks me for help to fix it. Okay, there we go."
Click!
"Is this okay?"
Lelouch's phone appears before her, showing C.C. a photo of her braided hair. Huh, he's good at it. His creation is as pretty as those she sees in Pinterest, perhaps, even better executed.
"Wow," utters C.C. as her eyes inspect the intricacy of the braid. "That's really beautiful. Thank you."
She feels him shrug next to her and whispers, "Well, only the beautiful things for a beautiful woman."
Her head immediately whips towards his direction only to find Lelouch already walking away from her, following Kallen inside the café.
Did he really say that? Or was it just her imagination? But why would she imagine that? She heard it so clearly. She felt his breath on her skin when his low voice touched her ear. Whether he didn't mean for her to hear it, a careless slip of his tongue, or he indeed said that loud enough to be heard, she doesn't know, and she doesn't understand why he said those words.
C.C. is about to shake her head when she remembers how it would mess up the braid, so she settles with a snort and finally follows her friends inside the café.
Luckily, Shirley had already reserved a table for them. Her bubbly smile welcomes C.C. as soon as the model sees her approaching. Meanwhile, Kallen and Lelouch are already sitting on their respective chairs, checking out the menu.
"Finally, my favorite friend of the week has arrived!" Shirley's voice is loud enough to be heard by the neighboring tables. C.C. rolls her eyes at her friend's over-the-top welcome yet secretly enjoys the ridiculous title the latter made up.
"Where's my medal, then?" The only seat isn't taken is the one between Kallen and Lelouch. After C.C. has settled down, Kallen immediately hands her the menu.
"No medal for you, miss, but I've got something better." C.C. laughs at the way Shirley wiggles her eyebrows. For a model, Shirley doesn't really care about how her expressions distort her face in the most ridiculous ways. Ever since they were kids, Shirley is the most open person in their group and one who doesn't restrict her emotions just because it would ruin her image. Very much the opposite of C.C. whom strangers always mistaken as stoic or worse, a snob during their first meeting. But the truth is, she just isn't the type of person who starts a conversation randomly. If Shirley is spring, then C.C. is winter.
And as they always say, opposites attract.
"How does a vanilla frappe sound like?"
"Uh-huh," C.C. answers in a noncommittal manner.
"And of course, pizza. I specifically chose this place because they serve pizza in the morning."
"Shirley," C.C. breathes and places a hand on her chest. "You really know the way to my heart."
From her left, Lelouch asks, completely baffled. "You eat pizza in the morning?"
"She can eat pizza all day, all week," Kallen interjects.
Feeling his eyes on her, C.C. returns his gaze.
"Isn't eating too much of it unhealthy?" Lelouch's brow furrow and his frown reminds C.C. of that she sees on the faces of parents when they caught their children getting cookies in the middle of the night.
"It's not a matter of it being healthy or unhealthy. Pizza has its own share of nutritional values too if prepared thoughtfully. What's important is its availability and the number of pizzas I can eat for the day."
"Believe me, Lelouch, you can't win an argument with C.C. when the topic is pizza. Been there, done that, and failed." Kallen tugs at Shirley's sleeves and continues, "Let's go and fall in line. See you later. And Lelouch," she points an index finger to her friend, "behave, okay?"
The man chuckles beside C.C. "When was I not?"
It's like having a déjà vu of the scenario in the bar – her being alone again with Lelouch as they watch Shirley and Kallen from afar. The only difference now is that it feels rude to just suddenly pull out her phone and pretends she's busy scrolling at nothing. It's morning. The sun is glaring outside not letting anyone hide behind the shadows. Gone is the subdued and lulled energy of the night. All around her are sparks and collisions and light and smiles and morning routines. There's nowhere to hide.
But what C.C. doesn't know is she's long been found.
"So… No coffee for you?"
C.C. decides that this is the better situation – him starting the conversation. Again. For God knows how she sucks at initiating one and more so, maintaining a long one.
"My stomach hurts and I get heart palpitations when I drink coffee," she answers nonchalantly.
"Hmm. So I assume that you drank your last one a few years ago?"
C.C. nods. "I am coffee-free for eight years now."
Lelouch's mouth forms an 'O' – disbelief coating his face. C.C. finds it a little bit funny everytime she tells someone about it. They would sport almost similar kind of expressions of surprised, confusion, and sometimes disappointment. And the one that Lelouch wears is in between bafflement and incomprehension. She has to admit, that's kinda cute of him.
"H-How?" He shakes his head. "I mean, surely there are times that you have to stay up late or wake up very early. How can you manage that?"
His confusion is so genuine and adorable that C.C. couldn't help but tease him. "I don't," she seriously replies. "When I feel sleepy, I sleep. I wouldn't be productive anyway if I stay up late. Might as well give in and have some rest. On the matter of getting up early, well, that's the little punishment that I have to endure."
"What about your deadlines?"
"Deadlines are just an illusion," she deadpans.
If possible, the man gets even more confused, and is that alarm on his face? Perhaps, he's appalled by the idea of procrastination and easily giving in to sleep. From the little knowledge that Kallen shared to C.C., Lelouch is a man who values productivity and time. He's a businessman after all.
Tilting his head, Lelouch contemplates this new piece of information and C.C. can only imagine what his assessment of her right now. "You… You're pretty la…"
Lazy.
"…idback, huh?"
Welp, that's not the statement that C.C. expected to get from him. Actually, this is the first time that someone describes her lifestyle as laidback and as C.C. thinks more about it, the more she agrees with him. She has tendencies to procrastinate yet not panic despite the pressure and hassle of work. In fact, there's only a few circumstances when she missed her deadline and that was because she was sick.
She smiles at him, amused. "You can say that."
Lelouch chuckles. "We're pretty much the opposite, then. My job requires me to be alert and critical at all times so I need the power of black coffee every now and then."
"But you don't seem to be busy these past few days. Are you back for a vacation?" C.C. inquires genuinely.
"Nah," Lelouch shrugs, leaning back on his chair. "I'm back for good. I'll be managing the branch here from now on."
"Ah, well, good for you?" Her hesitation echoes in her voice. After all, she doesn't know if this a promotion or a demotion for him.
As she is busy mulling about it, a large hand touches the end of her braid, effectively startling C.C. out of her thoughts.
"It will be good, I guess," he murmurs, those amethyst eyes piercing her golden ones.
"Yo, what do you think you're doing?"
C.C. immediately turns her head away and hides the blush that is certainly painting her cheeks as Kallen and Shirley return to their table. Thank God they're back. C.C. wouldn't know how to act if whatever Lelouch was doing went on much longer.
"Her hair," Lelouch says with a laugh. Is he nervous? "It's as soft as Nunnally's."
"Really," Kallen flatly says while suspiciously eyeing her friend. Meanwhile, Shirley had already distributed their orders and is already admiring C.C.'s braided hair. When the latter told her who made it, Shirley turns to Lelouch with big doe eyes while requesting, "Can you braid my hair, too?"
C.C. busies herself with her pizza, their voices are background noises around her self-induced bliss. But hear them she did.
"Sure," Lelouch retorts easily.
Shirley squeals. "It's a deal then. Next time we meet, you'll do my hair."
"Lelouch is obsessed with long hairs. It started because Nunnally, his sister by the way, has long wavy hair which sometimes gets too difficult to tame. So, our good old big brother here dedicated ample time to learn different kinds of braids. And now, everytime he sees someone with long hair, his hands itch to braid them," explains Kallen.
C.C. can easily imagine that – a pair of siblings, one sitting, one standing, talking about mundane things as the big brother creates magic to his sister's hair. Soft sunlight streaming through the windows, leaves dancing with the cool breeze outside, a perfect weather for spending time leisurely inside the house.
Fortunately, Lelouch didn't attempt to have any physical contact with C.C. throughout the duration of their stay in the café. In fact, it seemed like his touch never happened in the first place with how he focused his whole attention to Shirley who was animatedly sharing stories of her modelling career.
The way he looked at her in the bar resurfaced in C.C.'s memory.
They would make a very handsome couple, she suddenly thinks.
Taking a sip of her vanilla frappe, C.C. puts all the thoughts of braided hair and whisper touches at the back of her mind and enjoys whatever this pleasant morning with her friends might bring.