beat inside me, leave you blind
[ He's pretty sure he hates the rain. It's a little excessive, he thinks, to have got caught in a summer shower when he already feels like shit, and doesn't do his pallor any favours with darkened curls sticking to pale cheeks, droplets gleaming on a blue scarf tucked tightly inside a button-down coat. It's almost as rigid as his old Rounds uniform, taking comfort from the fact something is in place and exactly where it ought to be, even if they're just fastenings. For a good twenty minutes, he stands outside the door, leaning slightly against the wall as he rephrases what he's been reiterating since before he took Lelouch home and out of harm's way.
I know I didn't give you any warning, but he needs me.
I'm sorry to do this, but his suffering hasn't ended.
I'm his knight. I have to do this.
Suzaku likes the sound of the latter, if only because it's the one that sounds the least like an excuse and closer to reality. Throat closing up, he tries not to think how difficult it was getting his head around sleeping with someone else, even if that person was his best friend and first lover. It didn't work (Could we just go to sleep?) and he finds himself at a loss for how to recall Lelouch's kisses, entirely distracted by the vivid memory of Gino's. With every fibre of his being, he knows Lelouch needs him. That isn't something he doubts. But.
If he could stand in the lightening drizzle all day, he would, but Suzaku resolutely turns to face the door and knocks thrice, leather-gloved hands balling into fists at his sides as he takes several deep breaths and smooths out his expression; if he concentrates hard enough, he can almost keep the pained frown off his face.
How could anything possibly be this hard? It's beyond what he anticipated and the shock of that is enough to make him really hate these actions on a whole other level. ]
I know I didn't give you any warning, but he needs me.
I'm sorry to do this, but his suffering hasn't ended.
I'm his knight. I have to do this.
Suzaku likes the sound of the latter, if only because it's the one that sounds the least like an excuse and closer to reality. Throat closing up, he tries not to think how difficult it was getting his head around sleeping with someone else, even if that person was his best friend and first lover. It didn't work (Could we just go to sleep?) and he finds himself at a loss for how to recall Lelouch's kisses, entirely distracted by the vivid memory of Gino's. With every fibre of his being, he knows Lelouch needs him. That isn't something he doubts. But.
If he could stand in the lightening drizzle all day, he would, but Suzaku resolutely turns to face the door and knocks thrice, leather-gloved hands balling into fists at his sides as he takes several deep breaths and smooths out his expression; if he concentrates hard enough, he can almost keep the pained frown off his face.
How could anything possibly be this hard? It's beyond what he anticipated and the shock of that is enough to make him really hate these actions on a whole other level. ]