Forget the heels. Leaning against the wall, Lady Une shrugged her feet out of the uncomfortable shoes and let her tired feet sink into the deep carpet. It was a welcome relief.
She raised one hand to knock on the heavy wooden door, then paused. He might be still working…or in reflection. It was not good to catch him in one of his reflective moods. She had done it before and come away with her head spinning full of philosophical proverbs and ancient military strategy.
Well…she would risk it. It was two in the morning and he would not get any more work done at this time of night anyway. It was snowing outside, and they should both be home asleep.
Drawing a deep breath, she strengthened her resolve, straightened her shoulders….and knocked.
No answer.
Frowning, Une knocked again. There was still no answer. The large clock in the main foyer downstairs chimed two forty-five. She could hear the sound, muffled from traveling through the marble stairwell and through the soundproof hall.
"Sir?"
Tentatively Une reached down for the handle and debated for a second, then slowly turned it. It slid smoothly and she pushed the door open on well-oiled hinges.
The room was veiled in moonlight, the curtains pushed back from large French windows that looked out onto the still-lighted city and the fluttering snowflakes falling gently onto the balcony, piling into little dunes by the windowpane. The large ceiling lamp was off, as was the smaller desk lamp. Shadows of falling snowflakes spotted the smooth wooden floor and drifted onto the expensive Oriental carpet that covered the farther half of the room. There was soft classical music playing from the stereo by the door, and when she bent to look, she saw that it was a compact disc put on repeat. She wondered how long it had been repeating.
"Sir?" she said again, softly. She moved into the room, trying to see through the shadows to the desk.
He was asleep.
One hand went to her mouth as she saw the head pillowed on arms which were in turn pillowed on a stack of papers. His left hand was open, as if he had been holding something, and approaching closer she could see an the glint of an uncapped ink pen that had fallen from his fingers and rolled to the edge of the desk.
She reached the desk, looking over into his sleeping face. He was breathing deeply, mouth a little open, like a boy who had tried so hard to stay asleep through the school lecture but just couldn't. If the light was off that meant he had been sleeping since afternoon. Was he that tired? He had gotten plenty of rest last night, or so he had assured her. Though she had been suspicious of the tired smile he had given her as they had parted this morning.
Unthinkingly, she reached out and ran a hand through his curly, cropped brown hair as the soft strains of violins drifted from the radio. It was soft to her touch. She brought her fingers back to her face, touching her lips. They smelled like cinnamon and something else that was entirely uniquely him.
So beautiful.
He stirred.
Immediately she stepped away from the desk, feeling that it was almost an invasion of his privacy to have caught him sleeping at his work, his work which he took so seriously. If she were honest with herself she would admit that his work was the first priority in his life and everything else came second. Even…
Dark head raised up from the papers and eyes blinked at her.
"What-?"
"I think you fell asleep, sir," Une said without preamble, watching Treize Khushrenada as he blinked at his surroundings as if seeing them for the first time. He pushed himself up with his elbows and rubbed his eyes.
"Gah. Yes, I suppose I did. How clumsy of me. What time is it, Lady?"
"Almost oh three hundred hours, sir."
"Damn," he muttered, the elegant face dropping completely as he glanced at the clock. "How long have I been asleep?"
She shook her head. "I don't know. I just finished my work and came to see if you were ready to leave."
He smiled tiredly at her. "I'm never ready to leave. You know that. I didn't get any sleep last night."
"You told me you'd gotten plenty of sleep last night."
She had the pleasure of seeing Treize look slightly embarrassed. "Yes, well…forgive my bit of inelegance. You weren't going to leave me alone otherwise."
Une laughed softly. "Yes, that's true, Treize-sama."
"Lady. You can just call me Treize, you know. We are not strangers, and it is two something in the morning."
She looked down at the ground. To hear the title from his lips was almost painful.
If I can call you Treize…why must you call me Lady?
"I…don't want to get into the habit, sir."
"Ah. Well, I suppose that's wise." He stretched a little, then stood. Standing in the dark, he was proud, intimidating. This couldn't be the little boy who had been sleeping just a moment before…not the officer who was standing before her. His uniform was still immaculate, after hours of sleeping in such a cramped position.
"I suppose I should be leaving now…I'm not going to get anything done here, I see."
"That's wise, sir," she said carefully. "Would you like me to help you?"
"No." It was abrupt, the word from his lips. "It's fine, Lady. Why don't you go home and get some sleep?"
She had her mouth half open to argue, then closed it. Arguing with Treize was no use, and as much as she wanted to stay anyway, she was very tired and her body needed the rest.
"Yes sir."
"Good night, Lady Une," he said, not even looking at her, beginning to neatly stack the pile of scattered papers, some of which had fallen on the floor. The light was still off. She could see his profile turned to the window, snowflakes falling on the balcony under the moon.
When Une didn't move to go, he looked up, a slight frown creasing his brow. "Lady? Was there something else you wanted?"
Treize…I…
"No," she said softly.
"Are you sure?" He stopped his search, gazing at her. She could see nothing but the highlight of his cheekbones and the dark hollow of his throat in velvet shadow. "Nothing?"
"Yes," she whispered, the words sticking in her throat. "I'm sure."
The music stopped. There was the whirring of the compact disc as it began finding its way back to the starting track, and Treize picked up the remote from the corner of the desk, flicking off the stereo. In the sudden silence she could almost hear the snowflakes falling.
"Well, if there's anything you need to tell me, feel free to call me. At all hours of the morning. You are my aide, after all, and the job comes before all else."
"I know, sir. Good night."
He had bent back to his papers. "Good night, Lady."
She left the room silently, not bothering to look back. He would not be watching her anyway, too preoccupied with the time he had wasted by falling asleep at his desk. That was Treize. His mind always on what needed to be done.
If there's anything you need to tell me…
Treize…I…
Downstairs, the clock chimed three.
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