Lelouch and Shirley's gathering at the library proved much different versus the previous interaction. The week following Lelouch's sudden sincerity gave rebirth to Shirley's positive attitude: that gentle outlook that comforted him so. The two openly shared views and rather [obvious] signs of attraction towards one another through smiles. By the end of the week, Lelouch had asked her out in assisting with a project (something which he had technically already completed). Despite such a recognizable fact, she gladly accepted the proposal.
The project pertained to an assignment in health class: to present a demonstration on drug abuse and its dangerous impacts on the user. Though only primary information was necessary to ace a high score, Lelouch took the liberty to weave subtle references into his work. Ironically, he would include his own struggles about addiction- Shirley being the grand example.
As usual Lelouch obliged himself to compose the bulk of the work- writing the prose and presenting the speech. Based on this, a mutual agreement arose that Shirley would create the visual aids and supplemental items for the presentation. This agreement was surely supported based on Lelouch's uncanny ability to persuade, Geass or not.
Only a few hours were required to finalize the ordeal, judging from the necessary materials already gathered. Of course that was too short for Lelouch to accept, an idea brought about after seeing Shirley start to lose enthusiasm getting into the harder work. That sign was exactly what Lelouch hoped for.
"Have a drink with me," Lelouch proposed with that alluring, suave tone he polished for so long. He was pleased to see that Shirley raised her brow as he lent his hand to get her standing, though he was surprised she didn't raise concern that he suggested alcohol to underage teens; guess she trusted him after all. In fact Lelouch felt himself peaked to see how well she kept composed despite the way their hands remained clasped as he started to pull her to him. Not only were they clasped, but interlaced with gentle care. Her hand was warm to the touch, Lelouch observed before he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and started to head out.
"Where do you have in mind?" Shirley managed to spurt as they exited in library, still close together as others watched them go. He was surprised more how she did not want him to stop.
"Somewhere you might enjoy."
Lelouch lounged in his stool while sipping at the strong German ale in his mug. He felt like a casual at this place, sharing pleasant topic with Shirley in front of the bar. Rather, the term 'pleasant' was quite loose since his guest was already tipsy and leaning towards him (after only one glass, she was obviously a light drinker). The slur in her tone overtook her speech and made him chuckle at the fact.
The location was a particularly renowned pub within Ginza… Well, renowned in the world of delinquency, that is. Thugs and drunkards, or drunk thugs and thuggish drunkards. These were the usual gangs that visited every day, thus made this the perfect getaway for students riding on the edge of danger. Lelouch was well-aware just who among their classmates dared to come there (very little), thus offered a safe haven from gossip.
Just as planned.
A cunning grin slipped across his face after he finished his drink, enjoying the alone time afforded.
The scenery truly helped displease the urge to visit. Lousy neon lights blatantly advertised the 'special happy hour drinks' that barely registered as a bearable drink. The tables and accompanying seats were poorly attended to and required much repair. Lelouch didn't mind the overall appearance as long as he could relax, and the feeling was mutual with Shirley as long as she could spend time with him. After all, ale proved the perfect match for such a tiresome Wednesday afternoon since it traded low quality with a sweet tart. Though the two shared the same drink, as alluded before, she appeared eager to down hers faster than Lelouch. She must have really needed this chance.
Luck favored them quite well, considering none of the local hooligans dared to join them in their leisure. In fact most of the locals he scouted out were not in attendance on that day. 'Probably attending the rally we hosted downtown,' Lelouch jested to himself in the middle of another drink. The lack of drudge helped highlight a few down-on-their-luck business eager to drink their sorrows away. Shirley seemed to have her glazed eyes set on one particular lady eager to blast a few shots down her throat. A sigh slipped through those sweet parting lips.
Interesting.
"What was that for?" Lelouch leaned his cheek against his resting hand, getting a better view of her sullen expression that rested on his shoulder.
"I was just thinking how I don't ever want to look like that."
Her point became less clear as she surreptitiously pointed to the woman who moved on to a nearby party, as though knowing she'd be happily accepted in. She had nothing noteworthy about her appearance: a semi-composed posture and well-garnished apparel, a comforting smile on her face, and engaging in a company that seemed to accept her willingly. There was nothing outside of ordinary about her. Lelouch deduced this must relate to the fashion sense that woman had such 'keen perception' on (as Milly would suggest).
"Why's that?"
His question seemed to phase past her just as her attention strayed to a single strand of hair that fell out of place. Her thumb and index twirled that strand into splits, only to show displeasure at the sight.
"She looks like a regular."
Shirley provided a simple statement, yet it holstered some complexity in meaning. Lelouch knew from experience that this woman was far from being a regular, perhaps a few heavy shot challenges away let alone a few missing stains on her blouse, nor did she intentionally try to seduce the men into paying for her. Hardly a regular by his terms.
"And that means?"
Perhaps in hindsight Lelouch should not have pushed his luck given her near inebriated level, given that he earned an annoyed glance right at the tip of his question, but soon she regained her control. He wondered if he enjoyed toying with her so, given his mood began to lift off. He could not help but smile back at the act. Not to mention the way those horrid flashes of strobing hues of red, orange, and green flashed off her just emphasized the allure of blooming figure, something he failed to notice since they met.
Beautiful.
"She seems… I don't' know… sad," Shirley blurted out in an attempt to find the words. Her puppy dog eyes peered at him suddenly. "Well, more than that really… It's hard to explain," she paused once more. "I just look at her and I know I don't want to feel like that."
Lelouch managed to bare his smile despite some subtlety she tried to allude. He understood well enough without trying to probe more. Shirley took a great swig from her ale then turned her attention to the waiter asking for another round (up to four if Lelouch recalled). The alcohol was clearly taking reign of her stability, her weight oddly shifting about her stool before leaning back into Lelouch. Her attention swirled like the liquid in a glass, at and around Lelouch as she tried to focus.
"So how'd ya find out about this place?" Her words slurred together so faithfully that it could not resist a smirk. Her attitude was quick to flip out at his point-blank mockery.
"S-Stop that!" Emotion flourished across her face as she scolded, pushing at his shoulders twice with force. "I asked ya a question! Answer me! Now!"
Lelouch darted his head aside so he could sneak in an inevitable laugh so his drunken friend would not see. She found it however as she continued to wail at his arm in a drunken pout.
"I wouldn't have pegged you as a mean drunk," Lelouch eased out beneath a covered hand. "You're always so mellow. I thought you'd be more of a happy type."
"Psh, you're impossible!" Another huff came before she swung ferociously about her stool like a kid. "And I'm not dunk, and I'll have ya know that YOU'RE the one who brought me here in da first pla-"
"No carding," Lelouch obliged with an answer to the question posed before she flew into a rampage for dodging the question. However, as expected, his response did not seem to register, instead flew straight from ear to ear without her realizing it. She dozily turned about and blink subsequently as though to remember her surroundings.
"What?"
He chuckled once more and took another sip from his drink.
She's drunk, alright.
His arm slithered across her neck as he pulled her in closer, up to his chest while his free hand cupped over her ear as though to convey a secret message.
"The bartender." The soft whisper caused Shirley to shiver in his grasp. "He doesn't check for ID."
He teased her further by slowing recoiling his hand, allowing his long fingers to trail through her smooth hair. Shirley's upward glance was sheer enticement in the way she pouted, a clear act that she was trying to illustrate she did not understand.
"That still doesn't answer my question," Shirley muttered out as she started to search for her glass, once found allowing her finger to circle its rim in a fluid motion.
Lelouch let out another chuckle as he reached for his own. "Simply trail and error." He spoke the truth behind that response. He had to traverse several times across towns to find this one best environment which he couldn't be bothered by clients nor classmates… plus the endless supply of 'complimentary drinks on the house' courtesy of the Geass was a bonus for his troubles. A random spurt of laughter came from Shirley which left him puzzled by the act.
"Sorry," she offered in a sarcastic apology as she steadied herself off of him, disappointing Lelouch in the meantime. He had just begun to relish in their close proximity. Such personal time was yet another deep meaning behind his reason to skip away from the project: so he can find conviction yet again to try doing something right for this suffering girl. However, of course Lelouch was still in conflict with the very thought of confessing such feelings and wants. Despite his insistent to keep her out, he knew she at least deserved to know certain things that she was involved in. Perhaps she was entitled to everything in compensation. He let out a sigh before inhaling deep, and-
Then the jukebox started up and blasted music at the highest volume, taking Lelouch by surprise. He muttered a curse at the machine through clinched teeth.
Damn fate playing its hand.
After taking a moment to calm down, Lelouch took in the tone. Somehow he recognized that particular genre: the bright overtone beset by the trumpet, a rather nice upbeat tempo, and the way Shirley swayed in its swing. Definitely jazz. The uppity beat acted in great contrast to the mood he felt earlier, thus was quite thankful for the change.
Very thankful in fact, as Lelouch observed his tipsy companion become entranced in the movement. She swung enthusiastically on her stool in time with the beat, humming the accompaniment harmony as if known by heart. They shared in a front row concert to the song and felt how entranced she became through the music. As she was drunk, she didn't mind having an audience to show off to as she began to sing.
"Dream a little dream of me~," Shirley voice rang out slightly off-tune with the rest, as though trying to outperform the main singer.
"You are drunk," Lelouch teased much louder than he expected once the music died off into the background. He wanted to blame the amount of ale in his system for such.
"And you're just mean. Even when you're sober."
I beg to differ.
"No one listens to that stuff; it's ancient." Once again, Lelouch blamed the ale for his audacity. Shirley's anger resurfaced so easily as she attempted to ignore his comment.
"Don't insult the classics! My dad would listen to this stuff all the time when I was little."
Instantly, that simple comment destroyed Lelouch's mood. Reality broke through his alcoholic bliss. Her father: yet another number in the countless victims caught in the crossfire of his rebellion, and his daughter was the one left to regret his death.
He could not hold his head up, let alone the glass in his hand. He failed to notice that Shirley's glance returned to him during his lament, nor would he have mind. He wasn't surprised if she indeed still embraced a deep grudge against Zero and himself (had she not lost her memory).
On a deeper level, Lelouch pondered if their situation at hand also played a strong impact on his mood. Here he was, the murderer of her father sharing drinks and cheerful chatter unbeknownst to her. She was robbed of the justice to seek vengeance as he carried on in his war. Right then, Lelouch had ultimately crushed his chance at redeeming himself to her despite such resolution before.
It would all be for nothing.
Flashes of Shirley's break down during the Mao incident incited in his mind. Flashes of him burning her cherished photos so he may remove himself from her past life dug into his mind.
It would all be for nothing.
"I'm sorry, Shirley."
Those two words were the only things he could permit himself to speak as he tried to hold back tears. Sincerity overtook him as he hand slid atop her own, slightly grasping at her as though seeking comfort or acknowledgement of his pain. He couldn't tell what expression occupied her face as he closed his eyes. In honesty, with her drunken mood, he expected a hard punch to be delivered for ruining their fun. Maybe the punch would be strong enough to put him in his grave.
Alas, that would not come.
He summoned enough courage to look at her, yet he was so stunned by how clam she remained despite him giving a dramatic apology. She offered no response. As much as Lelouch wanted to hear it from her, that would not come. Instead, a gentle smile graced his despair. Her entrapped hand clutched at his fingers in an embrace. Her free hand moved from the glass she trailed and brushed aside a strain lock of hair that covered his left eye.
Shirley was intent on focusing on that eye: the very same that housed his Geass ability and her fate.
Despite feeling comfort in her actions, the gears in his mind did not stop churning in fear. There were no coincidences in this world. The odds were too grand that she would seek sight into the one place that revealed it all. His identity. His power. His control.
Is it possible… that she knows?