Jeans as formalwear. He really needs to keep in mind that the alternate world of Washington’s victory meant that no upper class ever took over her country to set the boundaries of taste.
Tapping his pencil on his teeth he considers… Could he do it? Jeans for this style? A double-denim suit? … No, he can’t bear the thought, jeans belong to a far more casual look than what he’s going for. He’d have to eschew the jacket entirely, or go for something in a shorter style.
“I could wear jeans… if you put on a shorter dress.” Yes, this is an excellent distraction. He flips a page and starts sketching out a girl with too long a torso as a basis for the design. “Something structured that comes to mid-thigh - and I’ll wear a shorter jacket that stops at the hip as a complement. I used to dress far more casually when I was pretending to be Lelouch Lamperouge.”
There’s something in her now under her delight, something that seems les comfortable. He rubs her shoulder in slow circles.
“Don’t read too much into my choices. None of this is a facade: I am L.L, no matter what I dress myself in. For now, formal courtwear makes me feel in control in this strange reality. You see me for who I am, I promise.”
Even though he’s flung a sheet over his pillar of a list of sins to hide it from her view. He really should show it to her, let her unravel it to see… but having her affection is more comfortable than showing her his worst sides.
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Tapping his pencil on his teeth he considers… Could he do it? Jeans for this style? A double-denim suit? … No, he can’t bear the thought, jeans belong to a far more casual look than what he’s going for. He’d have to eschew the jacket entirely, or go for something in a shorter style.
“I could wear jeans… if you put on a shorter dress.” Yes, this is an excellent distraction. He flips a page and starts sketching out a girl with too long a torso as a basis for the design. “Something structured that comes to mid-thigh - and I’ll wear a shorter jacket that stops at the hip as a complement. I used to dress far more casually when I was pretending to be Lelouch Lamperouge.”
There’s something in her now under her delight, something that seems les comfortable. He rubs her shoulder in slow circles.
“Don’t read too much into my choices. None of this is a facade: I am L.L, no matter what I dress myself in. For now, formal courtwear makes me feel in control in this strange reality. You see me for who I am, I promise.”
Even though he’s flung a sheet over his pillar of a list of sins to hide it from her view. He really should show it to her, let her unravel it to see… but having her affection is more comfortable than showing her his worst sides.