He wasn't the first man she'd met.

Nor was he her first contractor.

But he was the one she wished to stay with.

Strange as that wish was.

He wasn't even a man when she met him.

A tall, lanky, almost awkward boy.

Thinking back, she could count on both hands men much more handsome then he was.

But none more beautiful.

She'd often stared into dreamy blue eyes, sparkling green, warm brown.

But his eyes, like an amethyst stone, were different. She could drown in the deep lakes.

The guarded, angry eyes were more beautiful to her then any happy, kind, unguarded pair she'd gazed into.

His physic left much to be desired compared to the men she'd met. Broad shouldered, tall, with rippling muscles, washboard abs, physics that screamed testosterone and manliness.

He was not this way.

He was thin, fragile looking.

But there was yet a spot on his body for her to find that wasn't hard, built. His slim figure wasn't soft and yielding like it looked.

Every part of him was toned and fit. His shoulders broad, strong. His arms were lean, power rippling just below the surface of smooth, non-bulging flesh. His torso an expanse of smooth, hard muscle.

His abs, taunt, faintly defined, led to a most seductive v- curve of his narrow hips.

Oh how his clothes hid the secrets of his body. And only she knew the curves, the dips, every plane of his body.

His hair wasn't an unusual, color. Black. Most common. But it was like silk against her hands, smooth, glossy. No other head of hair was so completely black, so absent another color. It didn't shine with an undertone of red, or blue, or violet. Simply, beautifully solid black.

He was only a head taller then her, but her body fit perfectly into his. Her head coming to lie directly below his chin, her body fitting inside the cocoon of his arms and shoulders.

Oh and who could ever forget the shining personality that he had.

He wasn't afraid to speak his mind. He did what he wanted to do. But did nothing without calculating, analyzing his situation. Everything he did had a purpose, a reason. A result.

He was unable to relax, to drop his guard. He was so very private. So secretive. Mysterious.

She was drawn to that.

And he was always angry. The beautiful rage that tainted his mind.

He wasn't carefree. He knew anger, knew it well. But he didn't hide from it. He made it work for him.

He wasn't cheerful, full of joy, or happiness. Far from it.

He was lost. His soul wept loneliness and despair. Completely unnoticeable by others, except from her. For that was something she knew of very well.

The loneliness was hidden by the power-hungry existence that was him.

His desire for power to do what he most desired surrounded him, the layer so thick none bothered to believe there was more inside.

But those that did, that wished to look deeper, found the darkness that was slowly devouring his heart. And ran from him.

But not her. She knew that darkness was in everyone, that he had not chosen it. He was its victim. Its prey.

It called to him with it's seductive whispers. Not many could fight it the way he was. But the loneliness of his soul was slowly allowing it to consume him.

But she would save him. And if she couldn't, then she would join him.

That was the ever puzzling question. Why him?

He was so different from the other love-stricken saps. The happy, corrupt beings that claimed to love her. Every breathe a declaration of love for her.

Once she had adored their declarations, their words of love. But he had ruined them for her.

Because he never spoke those words to her. Not once. And probably never would. It wasn't his nature. But he would show her.

Those amazingly dark purple eyes would tell her. His body would whisper it. His hands would scream them.

And his lips, would form a smile. Sometimes for others, sometimes for her. Rarely did he smile a true smile. But oh how she cherished them, each a precious memory forever engraved in her heart.

He really didn't compare to any other man she'd ever met. No. He far surpassed them.

Perhaps that was why she loved him. They were so very similar, so very different.

So she was ruined. Because now, no other man would hold her heart.

No words of love, of devotion, of shallow eternity would warm her.

No, now only cold, cheerless laughter would make her heart clench.

She was his.

He was her everything.

Her demon.

He was Lelouch.

And she would love him for always.

A/N: Extremely strange, I know. Perhaps it makes sense. It most likely doesn't. I don't know what came over me. It's like the words wrote themselves, merely passing through my body and onto the page. I didn't beta, or correct it myself. Just typed it and posted it. R&R if you wish.

*In case it wasn't obvious, this was C.C thoughts.*

Disclaimer: I do not own Code Geass or any of the characters. Just my story.