The gymnasium at Ashford Academy had never looked so regal.
Silken banners draped from the rafters. Faux chandeliers glimmered with string lights above a polished dance floor. The gold streams glimmered under the dance lights. Velvet tablecloths, golden chairs, and scattered rose petals gave the illusion of elegance.
The illusion of a world far removed from rebellion, from war, from truth.
A masquerade, in every sense. Though Lelouch couldn't judge, he wore a mask himself.
Lelouch stood near the far wall, black-and-gold mask shadowing his eyes. His tailored suit framed him with princely perfection. Students twirled in elegant formation to the live string quartet at the front, laughter and music blending into a careful performance of fantasy.
But Lelouch's mind was split. Half watching the dance. Half mapping the Narita operation again and again in his head. He wouldn't allow a single thing to go wrong. He was always on alert.
It wasn't until her arrival that the noise dropped away and his mind cleared.
Shirley.
She entered the gym like a phoenix dressed in silk. Her crimson gown clung to her like it belonged to her skin. The lace mask did nothing to dull the sparkle in her eyes or the confidence in her stride. As she scanned the crowd, her gaze landed on him.
And she smiled like she already wanted Lelouch to take her in his arms.
"You look," she said as she approached, "dangerously handsome."
Lelouch tilted his head. "You clean up well yourself."
"Flattery?" she teased. "Careful, you'll spoil me."
He extended his hand. "Then I'll balance it out with a dance."
Her gloved fingers slipped into his, and he led her onto the floor.
They moved smoothly in rhythm, Lelouch taking the lead. For once letting himself enjoy the sway of the music, the softness of her body pressing closer with every turn. Her hand curled around his shoulder, her other resting lightly on his chest.
"You're tense," Shirley whispered. "Something on your mind?"
"Maybe."
"I know there is something. That's why I'm here. To shut your brain off for a little while."
Her body shifted against him, their hips brushing just slightly. Her breath danced across his cheek, close enough to make him lose the tempo for half a second. She felt it too and smiled.
"You're not very good at pretending, Lelouch."
"I'm not pretending," he said.
"No?" She leaned in. "Then take me somewhere. Dance me somewhere… more private."
Lelouch didn't speak. He simply took her hand and led her off the floor, past the punch table, past Milly pretending not to notice, and out through the double doors into the hallway.
It was quieter here. Dim. Just the two of them now.
She pressed her back against the wall and pulled him in.
The kiss came fast. Hungry and immediate. Their lips crashed together, her arms around his neck, his hands tight on her waist. He tasted sugar and need on her tongue, and when he deepened the kiss, she moaned softly into his mouth.
Their bodies aligned with heat, with friction, her thigh sliding between his legs, grinding gently. Lelouch groaned low, hands drifting down to cup her ass, pulling her harder into him.
Shirley gasped and arched against him. "You've wanted me… haven't you?"
"Since the moment I saw you in that dress," he whispered against her lips.
She smirked, tugging at his tie. "Then let me show you how much I wanted this too."
She turned him, gently pushing him into a nearby maintenance closet. It clicked shut behind them.
The small space was dark, warm, and private. The only noise being their panting breath and desperate touches.
Shirley pressed herself against him again, their mouths clashing in wet, open kisses, her fingers already moving to his belt. Lelouch was too immersed in his pleasure to stop her.
"You're so hard," she murmured, stroking him through his slacks. "Let me…"
Lelouch's mind went hazy, clouded with sensation. He gripped her hair and tilted her head up.
"On your knees," he commanded, voice hoarse. His left eye glowing red with his sigil.
She obeyed without question. Shirley was in total submission to Lelouch.
Her fingers unbuckled him, freeing him. When she took him into her mouth, it was slow at first with teasing licks and soft kisses. Then deeper. Wetter. Her eyes stared up at him, glassy with arousal, lips parted wide around his length, spit dribbling down her chin.
Lelouch groaned, biting back a louder sound. He braced himself on the wall, hand tightening in her hair.
"Good girl," he murmured as his left eye glowed bright red for a moment.
Her hum of approval vibrated through him.
She bobbed her head steadily, sucking with hunger, her tongue swirling around the tip, hands working in tandem. Lelouch's head fell back, his breath ragged.
But then she pulled back, panting, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
"Take me," she said. "Please. I want to feel all of you."
She hiked her dress up, revealing creamy thighs and lace underwear. Her lips were parted, desperate. Her eyes begged.
Lelouch's body screamed at him to say yes.
He reached for her, but stopped. Froze. His hand hovered above her hip.
The mission. The depot. The war.
If he did this… she would become part of it all. She would be in danger if she got too attached to him. Lelouch didn't want that life for her. He wanted her to be happy even if it's an illusion.
There'd be no turning back.
"No," he said, pulling his hands away.
Shirley blinked. "What?"
"I want to. God, I want to," he whispered, chest heaving. "But I can't. Not with what's coming."
She looked at him, stunned. "Lelouch…"
He stepped back, buttoning his shirt quickly.
"You don't deserve to be tangled in my lies."
She stood slowly, smoothing her dress, her lips still swollen, her breath still shallow.
"But I already am," she said.
He looked at her for a long moment.
Then he left with his heart pounding in his chest like a drum.
It wasn't from lust, but guilt.
And tomorrow, he would become Zero again.