DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT FINISHED THE SERIES

I do not own Code Geass, or any of its characters.

Underneath her blank canvas,

lay seas of buried fire.

He was the first in ages,

to ripple the still waters.

She was waiting for the storm to pass.

She is an empty vessel. She has lived hundreds of lifetimes, and yet her soul echoes back a silent void. She is impervious; illegible; unreceptive. She neither absorbs darkness nor reflects light. She returns to her blank form no matter how many times humans, circumstances or life mutilate her; change her; bend her.

C.C. has cast away emotions a long time ago. They are nothing but hindrances, unnecessary loads to carry. They are treacherous and lethal—dangerous. She relies solely on instinct these days—a much easier way to live when your existence knows no end.

"Are you scared?" she asks.

Her voice comes out flat, almost as though stating rather than querying.

Outside, the skies are changing. The sun is sinking. It is the last sundown he will see. He detaches his gaze from the window and turns to look at her, his violet irises hidden behind strands of dark, black hair. She knows the look on his face all too well. She has seen it reflected in the mirror too many times.

"Of course not. Don't be silly."

She can tell he is not lying, and it saddens her. He is too young to not fear death. He is too young to have nothing left to look forward to. He is too young to have had enough of life. He is too young, much too young, to be like her.

She moves towards him, silent and lithe. His gaze never leaves her. She should be feeling desperate at the emptiness in his eyes, but despair is not an emotion she wants to get re-acquainted with. She reaches up and brushes the side of his face with her fingertips. He does not question her actions.

"What if I said I was scared?" she mutters in a feathery voice, tilting her head at him.

He is shocked for a split second. Rightly so. She is his rock—strong and stable. A constant he can always go back to when his world is in shambles. She is his ground zero. A reminder of who he is and what he stands for when his mind is in disarray. Her equability has always been ideal to this end. Is this not why he needs her? Is this not why their partnership works?

His features then soften to reveal something she has trouble identifying.

"Why would you be scared, witch," he says, laughing quietly.

His eyes light up as he chuckles. Never before has a human stirred the closed box of her emotions like he does. He rattles it, jerks it, threatens to break it open. She should be running away from him, but the time for that has long since passed. Something had already escaped the box the moment she knew of his existence—hope.

Hope that he would be the one to save her from this wretched curse they called eternity.

He had a point, however—why would she be scared? Is this another feeling he has freed? Another burden she will have to carry? She is scared. Scared of the crushing feeling that will come with let down. Scared of having to face eternity once again. Scared of loneliness when she has tasted life with someone she connects with.

She is scared she has ruined his life. She is scared she has stolen something good away from him.

And she is scared now, as he closes his eyes and gently nudges her fingers with his cheek. Scared of the way her steady heartbeat quickens, and the way she cannot ignore it anymore. Scared of the feelings rising in a grotesque lump to her throat.

He throws her a glance beneath half-closed lids.

"Are you scared for me?" he asks. "How unlike you."

The answer is obvious in her eyes. But she will not utter the words. Whatever she says will make no difference. The final act of Zero Requiem will happen tomorrow, whether she is scared or not. He will sacrifice his life and atone for his sins before the world, whether she wants him to or not. And she will have to let him go and do what he has to do, whether she loves him or not.

So she pulls her hand away from his soft skin, and moves away from him.

"For more selfish reasons, I'm afraid," she then says. "My wish. You still have a contract to fulfil, Lelouch."

He snorts almost inaudibly, and says with a tiny smile, "I have not forgotten."

She makes her way back to the couch, and lets herself fall carelessly on the plump cushions. "You better not. This does not change the terms of our little agreement."

She closes her eyes to block him out, but she can feel his gaze still burning holes through her. She had forgotten what it was like to be contemplated by someone like him. Someone who gives her heart a reason to beat. Maybe she should enjoy the feelings while they are here. Maybe she should thank him, for making her feel alive after centuries of void.

She will probably go back to her primary self after he is gone and life with him is but a blurry memory.

Until then, she is a sentient being. And she is alive.

All for him.

Only for him.