C.C.'s eyes, Rolo reflects dazedly, staring at her over the tip of his knife as he keeps her pinned against the wall of the Ikaruga, are too much like V.V.'s.

Full of knowing, of knowledge, of inhuman feelings wrapped inside of a too human face, like some kind of demon wearing the skin of woman, that reminds Rolo he himself is not really a human being, that he is just a corpse wielding a knife.

He presses the knife deeper against the skin of her porcelain throat, furrowing against the ivory skin, not hard enough to break, merely pressuring her, showing her which one of them is in control here.

"Take it back," he hisses, because this witch does not know what she says, and even if she won't die from a slash to the jugular (always aim for the veins, he remembers, that way the target's heart does the killing for you, pumping blood out of them, their own body betraying them) she'll feel pain, at least.

"Don't like it, Geass-boya?" C.C. taunts without fear, letting her slender fingers dance across the sheen of the knife, smiling in a way that no human being would ever do when faced with the sharp edge of death.

"Take it back!" his voice reaches a higher pitch now, almost hysterical, and if anything, that damn woman only smirks wider, unafraid.

"You are a failure, Rolo." V.V. smiled, removing the knife from his chest as though it hadn't sliced through skin and veins and carved a hole in his heart, and for the first time, the tool of the Geass Directorate felt fear.

"I am the one whom Nii-san trusts the most," Rolo snarls, a rage he never knew before he met Lelouch Lamperouge coursing through his veins. "I am his shield."

"I am his accomplice, and without me, you never would have even heard of your precious Nii-san," the witch answers cruelly, her words sharp and icy, as though it is she with the knife against his throat and not the other way around.

"Nii-san trusts me more than you," he steps forward and the blade nicks her skin, a thin trail of blood running down her throat, pooling against her collarbone, showing that even someone as cold and aloof as her can still bleed. His mouth twists into a smirk of his own. "You're nothing but an ally of circumstance to Nii-san, someone whom he never chose to trust."

"You think he chose you?" C.C. laughs spitefully, and Rolo nearly thrusts the knife in all the way right then and there. "Do not forget, boy," she says slowly, relishing the last word, "You were sent to kill your precious Nii-san by the Geass Directorate."

"I am his brother," Rolo breathes harshly.

C.C. smirks inhumanly. "Are you?"

"You are a tool, a dead man, Rolo. Remember that."

And his control slips, and without thinking, he thrust the knife inside, slashing through C.C.'s jugular, leaving blood splatters on his clothes like falling rain.

Slowly, Rolo pulls away, panting, and watches as the immortal witch lives again, pulling herself to her feet, absently rubbing the already healing knife wound, and, for the briefest of movements, shows the barest hint of regret in her eyes.

And then it's gone, and she returns to being a demon in human skin.

"I suppose that puts our discussion at an end," C.C. murmurs, chuckling airily, and Rolo almost, almost attempts to attack her again. She turns, and saunters off, but not before calling out, "Your precious Nii-san needs to speak with me. You should go and wait with the others."

She doesn't bother listening to his reply, and walks the length of the corridor until she reaches Lelouch's room, opening the door without saying a word.

"You should knock, witch," Lelouch begins, glancing up from his work, before noticing the spatter of blood decorating her neck and shirt. "Oi, what happened?" he questions, concerned despite himself.

C.C. glances down at the healed wound, and chuckles.

"Just a disagreement."