the subway - just a little shirlulu drabble
It's hard taking the subway these days for Shirley. In every boy's face - fuck, even some of the girl's too, she really is tripping -, she sees him. Lelouch Lamperouge. Lelouch vi Britannia. Lulu. Zero. So many names to call him. Only one face, though. And only one heart, that she knows off.
Do you know what else is hard? To be in love, in the middle of a war, with someone who is one of two things (and you really can't guess which): one, he won't let himself be in love with you; or two, he just isn't in love with you.
Is it that he can't love her as she really needs him to because he has the weight of a war on his shoulders at just eighteen, way too much on his plate, can't risk involving and consequently losing her or does he just don't like her? Which one of is it? Maybe there is another girl? Maybe he really likes Kallen? She’s spiraling. It's silly.
It is kind of silly to consider these things, giving everything (war et al), but go on and blame the girl in love, okay? She has her own share of losses to account for. Yes, there's a war and yes, there are many consequences; but for her, there's also a boy that she's known for almost her whole life and loved with her whole heart for all that time too.
She doesn't have the answers. But she can't stop seeing his face, either. And she doesn't know if she wants to stop.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
