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ellssbellss · 6 months

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Lavender Roses ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader

pairing ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader

In which a rational head hides a generous heart, but you have always known how to see past his walls and help him bloom into the gorgeous rose he is. Enjoy a slow burn between an honor student and our beloved glasses character!

here is part two!

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A Challenge from Lobelia Girl's Academy!

The collar of your white button down carved into the skin of your neck, only cutting deeper each time you swallowed. The (s/c) of your suit set seemed like a good idea this morning, but now it blared at you from your peripheral, a warning of possible danger ahead.

Room A326 was a bland one, only consisting of a podium, a projector, and your teacher perched neatly on a chair in the back. In the middle of the room, a long table sits three of your high school's most influential people, one of them being Chairman Suoh. The man’s blonde lashes flickered over you and Kyoya as each of you ran through your practiced dialogue, the presentation not suffering at all from your time apart.

It was almost eerie, in fact, how easily the both of you fell into the groove of working together again, as if it was second nature.

But the thing that made your nerves stand on end wasn’t the investors watching your every single move. It wasn’t the fact that you and Kyoya had barely gotten together maybe an hour or so before one of the biggest presentations of your life. And it wasn’t that that hadn’t gone very well.

It was the fact that if you were shaken by just how natural this whole thing felt, working so fluidly together without so much as a word to each other in days, Kyoya was knocked off his feet.

People who hadn’t known him for years wouldn’t have caught the tick in his jaw, or the long looks behind his frames when it was your turn to present a slide. He gripped his index cards a little too tightly, and his tie rose too high up on his neck, the material crinkling the fabric of his shirt.

It appeared that you weren’t the only one about to burst at the seams because of how unfair it was. That the both of you had finally found someone that understood you both inside and out, made you feel comfortable in your own skin, supported you, brought you back to earth, and shared your ambitions and secrets. All for one petty, rotten, evil argument to bring it down like a gust of wind on a tower of cards.

As you fixed the lapel on your blazer, you caught eyes with him again while he spoke. His gray irises quickly flitted to look somewhere else as he swallowed thickly, and you huffed through your nose.

Rolling your eyes internally, you turn back to the projector, smiling for the investors while a million thoughts ran through your head.

Why was he acting like this? He was the one that broke your heart, and he was too stubborn to apologize for it. He had only spoken to you when absolutely necessary, and ignored you after one of the most traumatic events of your life. You knew that that day on the cliff had been a shock to everyone, but everyone else had gotten over themselves.

You knew he had an ego bigger than Mount Fuji, but you had hoped you meant more to him than his reputation.

Such a stupid thing, hope.

“And that’s why this product should be dispersed globally.” You hear yourself saying, walking in a synchronized motion to the front of the podium alongside Kyoya. “It could change the lives of millions globally, and redefine what we label technology today.”

“Thank you for your time.” Kyoya’s voice resonates in the beige room, and as you both bow deeply, your presentation ends with a period written in black ink.

Applause scatters throughout the room, but you swallow. The presentation was easy, planned. The hard part is what follows, answering questions.

“Nicely done.” One of the investors says, a woman with streaks of gray in her black hair. “Your charts were extremely easy to digest, and very well organized.”

“Agreed.” The investor to Chairman Suoh’s left nods, fixing the glasses on top of his nose. “And your idea to use rising social media as a way to advertise your product is smart. Effective.” His voice is grumbling, barely audible behind his dangling jowls.

You hitch your breath as Suoh hums, fixing his hands into a pyramid on the table, like a god about to give judgment. “The two of you have created something that could truly sell itself, and maybe become a staple in a household’s everyday life. It really could change the market for products like this.”

Kyoya’s lips stretch into his business smile. No dimples, no teeth, just kind, practiced eyes. “Thank you, Sensei, that means a great deal coming from –”

“...in theory.”

The smile drops.

“Sir?” You ask, trying to drag your heart out of your stomach.

Both of you turn to look at the Chairman as he reaches for his reading glasses, perching them on his face before glancing back down to his notes. “Isn’t that what this all is? Theory?”

“Absolutely not, Sensei.” Kyoya says, briskly walking back to his computer and bringing up the slides of the detailed plan he made to put this idea into production. “As stated previously, it would all start with the investments from–”

“Oh, please.” The Chairman dismisses Kyoya with a wave of his hand, almost laughing. “I admire the to-do list you have here, son, but it takes more than a checklist to get things off the ground. It takes research. It takes money.”

“The research is in production as we speak, sir.” You say, joining Kyoya at the computer to access your resources that you cited at the end of your slides. “While it is in the newer stages, the results have been consistent, even leading to brand new–”

“How many patented technologies have been made with this research?”

You swallow, the blue light from your screen being projected into your irises as you look up your friend’s father. “None, sir. This would be the first.”

“So it’s a risk.”

“It is.” Kyoya confirmed next to you, his lengthy form crossing to the side of the podium. “But what is reward without the risk?”

“A guaranteed one, Ootori.” Suoh clips, and he rests his reading glasses on the table.

“It might take some trials, Chairman Suoh, but you said it yourself.” You say, taking center stage. This could help millions, possibly even billions of people across the globe.”

“And how expensive is one of those trials?” He asks, his ego spilling from his chair.

You swallow, and Kyoya meets your gaze before answering in a cold tone. “Seventy-five billion yen, Sensei. As stated.”

“I know. I just wanted to hear you say it again.” The billionaire chuckles, along with the two other investors as they shake their heads, as if that amount of money could even put a dent in their personal checking accounts, let alone their savings.

Then, his face falls gently, and Suoh’s violet eyes pierce into yours, but they don’t hold the same warmth that Tamaki’s do. Just the judgment. Just the cold.

“(L/n)-san. Would you spend seventy-five billion yen on a risk?”

The collar of your shirt suddenly isn’t a smooth blade. It’s a jagged knife, tearing your skin and cutting through your windpipe as you force yourself to think. How could you be so smart and not be able to defend this project that you had poured your blood sweat and tears into?

Can you even recover from this? From the doubt that is clearly in the scowls of the investors in front of you, the disappointed frown from your teacher in the back. How could you show your face to Tamaki again, after his father had humiliated you so thoroughly? And Kyoya, god knows Kyoya is raging inside his ice-cold demeanor.

If there was ever a chance that your relationship would go back to the way it was, it was drowning in whatever vengeful emotion the Shadow King was feeling. You’re sure you’d make it back to the club room tonight and see your uniform folded neatly on a table, a note written in perfect cursive telling you, curtly, to get the hell out of his sight.

“Respectfully, Sensei. If I may.” Kyoya’s voice rings amongst your spiraling, and you’re pulled back into reality as he places a hand on your shoulder. You even feel him give you a gentle squeeze, causing you to let out the breath you have been holding.

“We can agree that seventy-five billion yen does sound like a large sum. And, yes, it is risky to bet on a product that is based on theory and predictions, therefore leaving the end result undetermined.”

Kyoya paused, and you watched as Suoh’s smirk just grew larger, nearly showing his canines in the process. “But hasn’t that been the start of all revolutionary businesses around the world? We all know that Apple Inc. started in a garage, but did you know the same was true for Amazon? Google?”

Kyoya’s back was turned to you as he began to speak to these investors like equals, his potential lighting up the room like an upcoming star.

“The same can be said for Blockbuster.” The woman said, tucking a piece of stray hair behind her ear. “Or MySpace. Blackberry.”

“All startups that ultimately failed in the long run.” The man added on, a permanent frown on his face as he analyzed the straight-A student in front of him.

“Because they couldn’t adapt.” Kyoya emphasized. “Our product is not only revolutionary, it’s evolutionary, and will change with the ages.”

“It may be a large investment, but it’s a worthy one.” You speak up, feeling supported under the confidence of the Ootori son’s words.

“I believe in this product. I believe in us as spearheads for this technology. This project will not fail with the two of us overseeing the development.” You say, gesturing between yourself and the suited host next to you.

“You two do work well together…” Suoh surmised, his cocky grin twisted into a slight frown.

You swallow the emotion you feel, playing the angle that you know will get the best response. “In the years I have come to know Kyoya, he has never once gave up on something he believes in. He is always going after what he wants with the finesse and ambition that anyone would want to have on their team.”

Kyoya brings his fist up to his throat, clearing it before fixing his lenses. “And I could say the same for (Y/n). Her creative intelligence and determination in her work is unmatched, making her not only an asset to this product, but also to Ouran as a whole.”

You look at him then, catching the way the veins in his jaw pulsed under the stress. His posture was straight, hands clasped in front of him maybe a little too tightly as he finished his praise.

He’s practically shaking, breaking his own pride to admit that he needs you. Believes in you, just as he always had. And that breaks something in you as well.

“Fine then, you two can talk to the investor panel at the end of this year.” Suoh grunts, earning the slow nods of the other two judges.

You whip your head around and smile brightly, taking a deep breath to thank him before he holds up a finger.

“However, there will be conditions. Find solid research that dilutes the risk of getting it produced.” He stands, the rest of them following suit as they begin to pack their things.

“Yes sir.” You say, vowing to do whatever you can to get your idea off the ground.

“And find a way to lessen the price. No matter how much you believe in something, it doesn’t change the price tag.”

“Of course.” Kyoya acquiesces.

Sighing with his briefcase in hand, Suoh is the last one out the door, on his way back to his office for the rest of the school day. He looks back at the two of you with his mouth in a straight line, but you can see a little bit of pride in his violet eyes.

“Congratulations, you two. We will be in touch.”

With that, he closed the door behind him, leaving both you and Kyoya with bewildered stares as his disappearing form.

“So…” You start, creasing your brows. “That went well. Right?”

The megane’s eyes shot to yours, before shaking his head once. “Not even close.”

“I mean, maybe it started out rocky, but we got the deal!”

“Barely.” Kyoya cuts your excitement in half. “We barely were able to pass through to the investor panel because our project was flawed.”

“It couldn’t have been perfect the first try.”

“It would’ve been better if you had answered the question decently, instead of standing there frozen.”

You stand there, shocked. “If I had answered honestly, the panel would’ve been discouraged against production. I was trying to find a way to-”

“Saying anything at all would’ve been better than letting the Chairman’s question hang in the air.”

Scoffing, you turn your back to him, shoving your laptop back into its case. “Well, everything turned out okay. You saved it with the connections to some of the biggest companies in the world, you should be proud.” Distaste leaked from your tone.

You hear the click of his briefcase echo as he packs his things, the lifeless room surrounding you. “I can’t save you everytime.”

Your hands pause, hovering over the zipper of your purse. The room is silent then, only the ruffling of clothes and the pounding of your heart making any noise. Your mouth is dry as you close your eyes, willing the rage and sadness that you feel to go away, just go away as a dark voice plays in your mind.

Stop it. Stop it, (Y/n). Don’t do this to me.

A briefcase clicks shut right as your zipper closes your purse, and you curse whoever made you and Kyoya forever in sync.

“Is that what this is about?” The tension strains your vocal chords as you ask, but you don’t turn to face him.

He isn’t looking at you either when he swallows. “It’s complicated.”

Nodding, you pull your purse onto your shoulder, and Kyoya barely has time to react before you’re furiously brushing past him.

“Let me make it less complicated for you, then. Since everything else is.” Your voice is cold as you push open the exit, still avoiding eye-contact. “You won’t have to save me anymore.”

Your shoes clack as you fly out the door.

Kyoya heaved off his glasses slowly, rubbing his eyes and the indentions that his frames had made on his nose.

“Christ, Ootori.” He mumbled to himself, running his hand down his face.

Why couldn’t he let you go?

Multiple people had made him angry to the point that he had cut off all contact with him, but it had never left him feeling so empty, so desperate for what was lost.

The director justified that it was because you were everywhere. He couldn’t get over your relationship because he saw you everytime he stepped into school, into the club he built. You were in his classes, his extracurriculars, your contact was pinned to the top of his messaging app (purely for easier access, of course). Your name was even signed on the same documents he had to fill out for his father because of the damned partnership between your two families.

He just couldn’t get rid of you. Physically or mentally.

Not only were you an active presence on campus grounds, but in the late hours of the night he saw your face smiling down at him in the sunlight, your laugh rang in his ears when he made a sarcastic comment.

He saw you disappear over a cliff’s edge.

His heart spiked and he threw on his glasses once more, sharply exiting the presentation room. He willed himself not to dwell on how things used to be, just what they were now. You had been reckless, so reckless that you could’ve been seriously injured. The pain he would’ve felt if somehow you hadn’t come back from that, or if your injuries were greater…it scared him.

All that feeling, the attachment, the wanting. It terrified him.

“No, Mom, I just–I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Your voice trailed along the empty hallways of the business building. School was still in session, but it was between periods. Everyone was in their classes.

Kyoya froze and expected you to be around the corner, fully prepared to turn the other way. But when you weren’t there, he listened again.

“I don’t think I want to stay here.” Dark eyebrows furrowed as he followed the echo to the women’s bathroom. Hearing you stutter and interrupt your mother made him lean against the wall outside the door.

“No, I know Ouran's the best, I know. And I really like it here. It’s just…” He heard you take in a breath while he held his own. “It’s getting too difficult. Were you able to send over the blank transfer application? To Lobelia?”

Kyoya’s head dropped against the wall as he suppressed a groan. Immediately, his body pushed off the wall, and soon he was walking quickly down the hallway. The afternoon sun traced his body through the exposed windows as he took tight turns, his long legs putting in their work as he jogged up the carpeted steps.

His head and his heart were at war as they both pounded on his way to Music Room #3. Just let her go, his mind yelled, then you can be free from whatever feeling she is holding over you.

But what would your life be, his heart cried, without her?

Kyoya busted through the pink doors, alight and tie slightly askew.

He clears his throat as he adjusts the tie, storming up to a surprised Tamaki.

“Kyo, hey. Is your presentation over? How did it g-”

“Will it work?”

“Will what work?” The blonde stands at his full height.

“Your plan to keep Haruhi and (Y/n) here at Ouran. Will it work?”

“Of course it will.” Tamaki gets a knightly gleam in his eye, pounding his fist into his palm. “We just need to do a few more things.”

“Leave it to me.” Kyoya states, his lenses flashing. “How can I be of service?”

The crowd around you cheers as you hug your middle. The Zuka Club performs gloriously on the stage in front of you, your front seat perspective making them seem larger than they actually are. And, you have to admit, their pompous, look-at-me attitudes are really helping their cause here. They are great actors.

Benio, Chizuru, and Hinako all move fluidly to their final positions, getting ready to set off the performance's grand finale.

“Lo~”

“Bel~”

“Li~”

“A~!”

The cheers get even louder, and you wince at the noise. Sighing, you look around at the crazed fans with hearts for eyes, wondering if this will really be the kind of people you will go to school with.

Not like they are any different from the fan girls at Ouran.

As the Zuka Club descends from the stage, a fan bumps into you as they try to get closer to the stage, knocking the enclosed letter out of your hand. You scurry to pick it up, praying that nobody steps on it as the crowd disperses. Your fingers are just about to wrap around the cream-colored paper before a lithe, manicured palm picks it up.

“What’s this?” Benibara’s smooth voice rings in your ears as you watch her read the front.

“Hey, wait, that’s not for you-” You scramble, but the squeal of Hinako’s excitement stops you from speaking.

“Oh my god! You’re transferring to Lobelia?!” She jumps, hands over her mouth.

“No!” Your voice cracks at the volume, and you bring it down as you clear your throat. “I was just…thinking about it. The forms are blank.”

“Well, thinking is over, maiden.” Chizuru smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. “You are wanting to become one of us! Isn’t that great, girls?”

“Don’t get too excited,” A warning laces your tone as you pull away from the blonde. “I was just thinking about it. I’m not sure I’ll even get in.”

“Please, beauty.” Beni says, spinning you as she and her gang begin to walk back into the halls of Ouran. “If you were intelligent enough to be accepted into Ouran High School, then you will be just as openly invited to join Lobelia Academy.”

“Are you saying that Ouran has better academics?” You say, raising an eyebrow at the hand on the small of your back.

“Absolutely not!” Hinako scoffs. “Lobelia is the best in every wa-”

“Admittedly, yes.” The leader’s voice dips, and you can tell it pains her to have Ouran be the best at something. “But our grades have always placed second.”

And isn’t that where you should be?, you think as you pace back to the Music Room, somewhere that accepts second place?

“Oh, hello there, young maiden.” Snapping yourself out of your thoughts, Benio calls to a figure that rounded a corner, unfortunately crossing the path of you and the Zuka Club.

You see Haruhi whip her short hair around, eyes widening as she makes eye contact with the three girls in maroon skirts, before meeting yours.

“Oh, hi ladies. Hey, (Y/n).” She waves, waiting for you to catch up to her. She eyes the way Benio’s hand guides your back.

“You shouldn’t call her a maiden in public.” You hiss at the girls, pulling away from them for a second time. “It could raise the wrong idea.”

“Not for long.” Beni smiles, a song of victory in her inflection. “Are you prepared to leave, Haruhi?”

A confused look crosses over her visage. “Leave?”

Chizuru nods. “Yes! With (Y/n) on our side, we are prepared to confront those boys and set things straight once and for all.”

“What do you mean ‘set things straight’? (Y/n)? What are they talking about?”

“This, beauty.” Benio says, and to your horror, hands her the transfer forms she had stolen from you. Haruhi’s brown eyes go wide, her intelligence making it so she connects the dots at a lightning speed.

“No, no Haruhi, I promise, it’s not what you think.”

That makes her even more perplexed. “So, you’re not transferring to Lobelia?”

“She sure is.” Hinako nods, a smirk coming onto her face.

“All she has to do is sign, and we will-”

“Stop. Just, stop for a second and listen to me.” You’re begging at this point, already seeing the hurt sink into Haruhi’s eyes.

“You three, shut up.” Pointing at the Zuka Club, you drag them to the otherside of the hallway. “Stay here while I talk to Haruhi.”

You begin to move before you hear shuffling behind you, so you whip around, glaring. “In private.”

The Zuka Club just roll their eyes, but they turn anyway.

Turning back, you swallow when you see Haruhi has her mouth in a thin line, but you’re so grateful that she is reasonable enough to let you explain.

“Haruhi, I’m not transferring.” You pause, taking a breath. “Yet.”

“Yet?”

Taking the letter out of her hands, you straighten out the crinkled paper. “I was going to bring this to the meeting today to let everyone know that I was going to apply. I didn’t want you all to be blindsided.”

“Yeah, well. I feel pretty blindsided right now.” Haruhi scoffs, crossing her arms. “(Y/n), what are you thinking?”

“I don’t know! I just, I’m trying to fix things. And I keep making it worse. I thought that if I just left, things would get better on their own.”

“With us?”

You almost whine at the hurt look she gives you, like a hesitant deer coming out into the sun. “No, no, that’s not it. I love you, I love being your friend.”

And you realized you did. You had missed the silent support she gives you through your times of anxiety and stress, but you had been pushing her away because you were sad and angry.

“I-I know I haven’t been around recently, and I really don’t want to talk about why.” You bite the inside of your lip again. “But I know that I want to be better, so I thought…”

“You thought leaving would help you be around more?” Haruhi asks, an exasperated smile highlighting her cheekbones.

“...Yes? When you put it like that, it sounds stupid.” You chuckle.

Haruhi shakes her head, punching you lightly in the shoulder. “That’s because it is.”

You stare at the ground for a minute before see her shift her weight. “Look, I don’t know what’s bothering you. But I won’t press.” The honor student holds her hands in a mock-surrender. “But I do want to be here for you. Just like you are for me.”

Your eyes meet hers again, brown crashing with (e/c), and it’s warm and sisterly. “Let me do that for you.”

A stuttering breath keeps your tears of joy at bay. “Yeah, yeah. I will.” You smile wetly. “I’m sorry.”

Haruhi just hums, taking the envelope in her hands and ripping it in half. “Yeah, you should be.” She finishes with a smile.

A disappointed Zuka Club meets you back at the clubroom’s entrance.

You quirk an eyebrow at them. “You eavesdropped, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but we still haven’t heard Haruhi’s answer!” Chizuru exclaims.

Haruhi rolls her eyes. “Actually-”

“Nope! No time!” Benio rushes, pushing Haruhi through the doors as you follow behind. “Let’s show them that you, maiden, should come to school with us and be with your own kind!”

But all of them freeze.

Stepping around them, you see their pale faces. Confused brows scrunching, you follow their eyeline to see colors and makeup, wigs and dresses and then-

Holy shit.

Kyoya’s wearing a corset.

“Ouran~!”

Off-key harmonization rings throughout the room, making sure to dampen the name Music Room #3. A bright light suddenly comes up on Tamaki, draped in a red gown with blonde extensions wrapped into a high ponytail. Red lipstick floods his mouth as he sings, posing in his very own spotlight.

“Host Club welcomes you~!”

There’s silence as you scan each and every one of your hosts. The twins look elegant, Honey is just darling, and Mori is dashing in his blue suit. Kyoya is perched on the couch, a fan in one hand as his purple dress cascades over his long legs.

Their makeup is terrible, their hair is hanging by a bobby pin on their heads, and once you and Haruhi meet eyes, it’s all over. The two of you double over laughing, clutching your sides as you collapse to the ground.

Benio is raging, smoke practically coming out of her ears. “What is the meaning of this? Are you trying to make fun of womenkind?!”

Tamaki gasps dramatically. “Absolutely not.” He begins to make his way over to you, his ankles bending as he fails to walk in heels, making you laugh even harder. “My dears, you all have lived sheltered lives, and may not know that Haruhi and (Y/n) like free things.”

In the midst of your tears, Tamaki gathers his voice, raising his voice a few octaves which makes you wheeze. “You ladies may be distracted by the Zuka Club, but choose us! And you will not only gain a club of brothers, but sisters as well! See?”

He bats his false eyelashes, the glue coming off the edge of his eyelid. “Aren’t I pretty?”

The Hitachiin Twins pop out, and you and Haruhi can finally stand. “We’re the Hitachiian sisters! We’re just teasing you.” They giggle like girls, a hand over their lips.

Honey-senpai prances about. “Listen, (N/n)-chan, Haru-chan, call me big sis, okay?” He asks, big eyes staring up at you as Mori taps his tambourine.

You looked expectantly at Kyoya to pose, flounce, do something, but you smirk when he just rolls his purple-shadowed eyes, his fan covering his face.

“Do you idiots really think you can win them over like this? I mean–”

But Tamaki’s head piece tilted off his head, floating to the ground, and it made both the honor students crack up again.

“Oh my god, I can’t breathe. I’m dying!” You cry, trying to catch your breath.

“This is too much! I don’t even know what you are trying to do?” Haruhi adds, and your laughter sings across the pink walls.

“You really think we’re that funny?” The twins come up to the both of you, purposefully swaying their hips. It breaks you down, and your cheeks hurt from smiling. The twins lunge at you and start chasing you, only for them to stumble as they run in heels. They try to catch you around your middle, your tears of joy flying back behind you.

“Maiden, what is your decision?” Benio gets Haruhi’s attention as they watch you three run around, and Haruhi just shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, but your club’s not for me. I think your school is great, but I came to Ouran with a goal and a plan for my future. I don’t think I was ever going to really leave Ouran.”

“Haruhi~!” Tamaki practically melts, violet eyes glistening as he twirls over to her. But then, he stops suddenly, pointing at her with an accusatory grimace. It was hard to take seriously.

“Wait, if you knew you weren’t going to leave, then why did you act all angry yesterday?”

Haruhi put her hands on her hips. “How would you feel if I took something of yours without asking? I really liked that pencil!”

“But I asked if you wanted my teddy bear pencil in return and you refused!” The prince whined, bringing the pencil back out from the confines of his skirt.

“That’s right, and I still don’t want it.” She says blandly, causing Tamaki to whimper.

Throughout the chaos, the Zuka Club stands.

“Um, Benio…” Chizuru starts. “Maybe we should-”

“Yes, I know.” The leader of the Zuka Club sighs, a frown creasing her handsome features. “We are not going to give up on you maidens! I swear, someday, we will come and rescue you from this place!”

No one is paying attention. Benio growls, spinning around and mumbling to herself as they walk out of the clubroom.

“And when we do, we will abolish the host club.”

The afternoon’s session ends with a bang. The guests loved the get-ups and the dresses, absolutely swooning over every host in the room. But now, as the chaos dies down and things are being cleaned up, you square your shoulders.

I deserve to be here. You think over and over, and it lightens the weight on your chest. I deserve to be here, to be happy and to get answers. I deserve to try.

Taking a sharp breath, you find a tall form, black hair a little messy from the absence of a wig as Kyoya reaches behind his back, struggling with the strings on his corset.

“Need help?” You ask gently, but he still jumps, his head turning ever-so-slightly to look over his shoulder.

A deep sigh rumbles through his chest, and you see the tips of red that color his ears. “Unfortunately.” He admits.

A small chuckle breaks through your lips, and your fingers begin to work the strings of the corset off of him, brushing against the button-up shirt he kept underneath.

Looking up, you realize that he is impossibly taller than usual. “You’re still wearing the heels?” He is standing straight, perfectly balanced as if he immediately mastered the art of wearing them.

“I couldn’t bend over to take them off with this corset suffocating me. I don’t know how women ever wore these monstrosities.”

“It’s an acquired taste.” You laugh, and the tension eases slightly, both in the air and on the straps of his corset as the piece comes undone, and you step away.

He steps out of it and sighs into a chair, pulling his ankle onto his knee to work on the strap on the shoe. You bite the inside of your lip, shifting your weight on your feet a little-

“You need to stop doing that at some point. It’s a bad habit. ” Kyoya’s voice interrupts your awkward shuffling and you stand straighter, looking up at him.

“Doing what?”

“The lip-biting.” He says, not even looking at you as he ties his own dress shoes into place. “If you have something to say, then say it. Don’t sacrifice the integrity of your lips just because your anxious.”

“Right.” You release your lip from between your teeth, a small smile being placed on them instead. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

“For what?”

“For trying to keep me here at Ouran.”

His gray eyes flick up at you as he works his laces for a brief moment before he nods. “I think everyone would agree that you are an asset to this organization.”

“And for speaking to me again.”

This time his foot drops off his knee, and he is looking up at you from his seat. It’s as if he’s realizing he has subtly lifted his cold shoulder.

“Yes, well, I thought that maybe, if you weren’t going to apologize, it was time.”

“Uh huh.” You tease, crossing your arms. “Because my pestering did nothing to push that along?”

He simply pushes up his glasses. “Your presence is quite grating.”

A smile pushes it way to your mouth before you can stop it, and soon you are pulling it back, remembering why you came over here.

“Look, I know you’re mad at me.”

“Because you were unsafe, reck–”

“Reckless, stupid, yes I know.” You finish for him before he can repeat what he berated you for on the beach. “But, I’m mad at you, too.”

His shoulder straighten at that. “Wh–”

“I,” You sigh, holding up a finger. “I can’t tell you why. Not yet. But I just wanted to say, if we are going to be mad at each other without trying to fix it, then we need to set some ground rules.”

His sharp features deadpanned. “And what, (Y/n), would those be?”

“You can’t call me stupid. We both know that I’m not” Assertiveness races through your voice, and you see him wince at the memory of him doing just that.

“We have to talk to each other. It doesn’t have to be as…constant, as it was.” You swallow, and the atmosphere depresses just a little. “But we have to be communicative.”

“Except when you don’t want to talk about something? How is that fair?” The businessman pushes, leaning his elbows onto his bent knees.

“I told you I will. When I’m ready. I know you might not think so, but I deserve that.” You can tell that Kyoya wants to retort, but one look from you, and it dies in his throat.

“And lastly,” Your voice loses that harsh, dictatorial tone, growing softer as you watch him intently. “I want you to know that I’m thankful you took that dive for me.”

Kyoya stops blinking, those calm gray clouds switching between each of your pupils.

“I don’t know what it ruined, but I’m sad that what I did broke whatever was, or what I thought was possibly…growing between us. But I will forever be grateful that I had a friend like you who would jump off a cliff for me.” You take a beat, grasping at your hands.

“That’s it.” Looking back up, you see Kyoya looking at you with the warmth that you thought you had lost, but then it’s gone as he shakes his head. “I’ll see you around.”

Spinning on your heel, your shoes clack across the tile before you hear Kyoya’s voice call out behind you. “(Y/n).”

Turning, you look at him, standing with a loosely buttoned shirt, his voice floating through the air.

“You’re welcome.”

Next Time on Lavender Roses

“Is Haruhi really suffering in poverty? I have to see for myself!”

“She is probably fine, we don’t need to go over.”

“Wait, (Y/n), how did you know about that?”

Day in the Life of the Fujioka Family!

thank you again for being patient! let me know what you think in the comments!

if you would like to be in the taglist, please go to the taglist link and comment underneath it!

love you :)

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elviswhore69 · 2 months

Note

Can you write a fic based on this picture?🤭

I LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS PICTURE. ABSOLUTELY YES IM GONNA WRITE A STORYFOR YOU. I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS (you won't.) IM TRYING TO CLEAR MY INBOX AS SOON AS I CAN.. LOVE YALL SORRY FOR BEING UNACTIVE.

TW : cursing,petnames,smut,making out/kissing, grinding/dry humping.. uhm i think thats it..im not sure sorry 😔.

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You and Elvis were playing fighting on your shared king bed as you suddenly fell, grabbing onto him which resulted in him falling on top of you in the floor. You grunt at the feeling of your back hitting the floor and Elvis's body falling on top of you.

"Ow!.." you groan out in pain as his elbow digs into your side. "O-oh ahm sorry mama..are you alright?.." he asks as he moves his elbow up next to your head, boxing you in on both sides. "Yeah..I'm alright are you?.." you ask. "I'm okay doll.. just scared me 's all.."

"good.." you mumbles as you looks up at his face above hers. You lay silent for a moment before he presses his lips to yours softly before pulling back, asking silently for permission to do..whatever he was gonna do.

You nod before grabbing his face, pulling it back down to yours, Interlocking lips again but this time rougher than before as the need between you two heightens. His hands absentmindedly stroke your hair as you two kiss passionately on the floor.

You lift your right leg up onto the bed as you clutch at the sides of his jacket. He groans into your mouth as the switch of position causes his clothed cock to fall against your clothes pussy.

The kiss was dirty.. filthy even as you both moan into one anothers mouth, as your head moves in all different ways, capturing his lips in different angles, and as your tongues seems to fight one another.

You suddenly gasp into his mouth as he begins to grind into you. You go to pull off for some air but you are unable to as he grabs your head, placing his lips back on yours with a muffled "mm mm.." meaning he's not done getting what he wants from you.

He grabs your thigh, squeezing it gently as he moves his hips quicker against yours, chasing his release. He stops kissing you for a moment before nuzzling his head into your neck, licking and sucking fervently as he listens to your moans.

"E-Elvis.." you gasp out at the combination of his tongue on your neck and the feeling of him grinding his cock into you. "Yes doll?.." he pants as he gets closer and closer to his release.

"i-im gonna cum.." you moan out as you grip his hips tightly. "Come on baby..c-cum f'me honey.." he moans out into your neck. Your hips buck into his, as his cock hits right against your clit you let out a loud whine as you finally cum. Your hips fall back to the floor as you pant in his ear harshly. It's not long after you that he cums with a loud groan.

"good girl sweetheart.. did so good.." he mumbles as his head falls against your shoulder. You lay there in si,ence yet again before his voice interrupts the silence. "Wanna shower with me doll?.." he asks innocently. "Of course E.." you respond before he lifts himself off of you, reaching down for you to take his hand. "That was the greatest accident that's ever happens t' me.." he says cockily as he kisses your lips. "Maybe it wasn't an accident.." you joke as you wink at him.

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This is horrible and I apologize. 😭 It's late and I'm tired and I did this in under a half hour. I hope I did you some justice at least and I'm sorry if this isn't exactly what you hoped for.. I feel so bad 😭.

#elvis presley #elvis presley smut #elvis smut #smut #sub!elvis presley #elvis fans #sub!elvis #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvisaaronpresley

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bupia · 1 year

Text

Bloodlust: Chapter 3 - Dracopia x Fem!Reader

Summary: After several weeks had passed since Copia didn't appear to your meeting at the park. His absence weighed heavily on you, leaving you to grapple with the contradiction of his words. How could he have spoken them with such certainty if he had no intention of following through?

Words: 9.045

Warnings: Light Angst: caution is advised while reading this chapter, as it delves into sensible topics. Please be mindful as you engage with the content.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Available on AO3

You found yourself tossing and turning, unable to sleep. From the last time you had seen Copia, sleep seemed to be playing hard to get. No matter how many times you tried to shut your eyes, the minutes seemed to stretch out endlessly, refusing to let you off the hook. It was as if time had slowed down. Despite your best efforts, getting some shut-eye was out of the question.

You decided to get up from your bed as you couldn't sleep. Gently sliding out of bed, you left your bedroom and padded softly through the darkened hallway. The floorboards creaked beneath your steps, the only sound breaking the silence of the night.

Reaching the kitchen, you switched on a dim light, pulling a glass from the cupboard and filling it with cool water from the tap. With the glass in your hand, you leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping the water. But before you could finish it, three knocks echoed from your front door.

You placed the cup in the sink and left your kitchen going to your living room. You hadn’t been expecting anyone at this hour, but perhaps it was your friend, and she had possibly lost her keys again. Your hand gripped the doorknob, and you hesitated for a moment before turning it, the door’s creaking opening revealing the figure on the other side.

Your breath caught as you saw him. It was him — Copia. Just as unexpectedly as the first time he appeared at your door, he stood there once again. Surprise and confusion crossed your face; why had he returned?

"C-Copia? What brings you here?" you managed to stammer, your voice revealing your astonishment.

"You, cara," he replied, his gaze intense and unwavering. "I shouldn't have run away," his words carried a weight that left you grappling.

"What?" you whispered, your thoughts a whirlwind of uncertainty.

"Forgive me, cara. I had to come back, I had to come back to you," he stepped closer, his hands cradling your face tenderly. "Please, cara, can I kiss you? I've longed to kiss you."

You nodded, closing your eyes as his lips descended upon yours, capturing your words in a sudden and passionate kiss. Your voice was silenced, your thoughts scattered and your heart raced. His kiss was both tender and fervent as his lips moved with urgency. Your hands instinctively reached up to rest against his chest. His warmth seeped through his clothing, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch. As if seeking reassurance, your fingers curled slightly, drawing him closer as the kiss deepened.

His hand found its way to the small of your back, pulling you nearer until there was hardly any space between you. The taste of him, the press of his lips, and the sweep of his thumb along your jawline sent shivers down your spine.

Copia pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he gazed into your eyes. “I deeply sorry, I was an idiot for leaving you,” he confessed, his voice a soft, husky murmur. "I didn't want to, but I'm here. I'm back and all I could think about was how much I wanted to feel your lips against my lips, to have you in my arms..."

“Copia,” you began, your voice trembling, “I… I don’t understand. You left me hanging, and now you're here saying all of this. We barely know each other, and yet…”

"Sì, I know, cara," he exhaled heavily, his expression filled with sincerity and regret. "Please, let me make things right."

His lips found yours once more, the kiss growing deeper and more intense. Instinctively, your arms encircled his neck, and you drew him further into your house, trying to shut the door behind him. Sensing your actions, Copia broke the kiss, his attention shifting to the door, and he took it upon himself to close it firmly.

His gaze locked onto yours, prompting you to take a step backward, extending your hand toward him. With a grin, he accepted your hand, and you led him towards your bedroom. Upon reaching the room, you playfully threw yourself onto the bed, allowing your robe to fall open slightly. His eyes were fixed on you as he began unbuttoning his black jacket, discarding it onto the floor.

"You're an irresistible temptation," he murmured, his words resonating with a potent desire, as he moved towards you. "And I'm going to claim you as mine."

You bit your lower lip to stifle a soft moan that threatened to escape your lips. Lifting your body, you propped yourself up on your elbows, gazing at him with desire in your eyes.

"Yeah?" you tilted your head, a playful grin on your lips. "And how do you plan on doing that?" you asked, your tone teasing.

He reached for one of your legs, lifting it gently towards him, his fingers trailing over your calf in a tantalizing caress. "It's quite simple, cara," he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of mischief. He knelt in front of you, his eyes locking onto yours. "I'm going make love with you," he declared, his lips parting, his mouth descending towards your thigh in a mock-threatening manner.

Your eyes snapped open, and your heart raced as the familiar melody of your phone's ringtone echoed in the room. Another dream about him, great. With a heavy sigh, you reached out for your phone, situated on the nightstand table next to your bed. You answered the call, your voice tinged with sleepiness.

"Yeah?" you mumbled, your tone still groggy from just waking up.

"Hello, we are calling from—"

You didn't give them a chance to finish their sentence; you swiftly ended the call, frustration building as you cursed the untimely intrusion of telemarketing early in the morning. With an annoyed huff, you tossed your phone onto the bed and closed your eyes again, maybe you would be able to go back to your dream that had been interrupted. But you knew it wouldn't happen; even if you tried hard to keep dreaming about him, just to be in his presence once more, it won't happen.

Some few weeks had slipped by since that day, and there was no sign of Copia. All you had were the memories of his presence, which were beginning to feel like sweet illusions, mirages that had disappeared with the passing days. The weeks turned into a quiet void, and you had allowed yourself to believe that he would really meet you again. But now, as reality settled in, you couldn't help but feel a sense of foolishness, wondering if you had misinterpreted the intensity of that night, if the connection you had felt had been one-sided all along.

And those dreams, those incessant dreams, they were the worst part. You couldn't understand any of it. It was weird how someone you had only met briefly could take over your thoughts like this. After all, it was just a single night, a mere dance, and a brief conversation – not exactly the ingredients for a full-blown infatuation. And yet, there was an undeniable pull, or just something. It wasn't love, passion, or anything conventional, yet it left you wanting more.

Maybe it was simply because you yearned for his presence. You craved his company, but how could you explain such a strong desire? What kind of enchantment had taken hold of you?

The events played out in your mind like a broken record: a dance with a stranger, a fleeting conversation, an interrupted kiss, an unexpected meeting and the fact that he never showed up. Perhaps, curiosity could aptly describe the reason for the way you were feeling.

Each day that passed without a word from him added to the growing ache in your heart. The weight of disappointment settled heavily on your shoulders, a reminder that perhaps, you had been a fool to allow yourself to be captivated by a fleeting encounter.

The questions swirled in your mind like a tempest, the uncertainty and confusion gnawing at your thoughts. The emotional roller coaster left you torn between longing and frustration, an inner turmoil that seemed to grow stronger with each passing day.

Every attempt to find an explanation seemed to lead back to the day he didn't show up. That haunted your mind, leaving you with an insatiable curiosity about what would have happened.

The memories of his touch were equally vivid – how you had melted in his arms as he guided you across the dance floor, the sensation of his warm breath against your skin, the distinctiveness of his sharp accent when he spoke, the alluring fragrance that seemed to cling to him, his mesmerizing eyes, the stories he shared with you, his lips around your finger – all of it, him. Just him.

With a sigh, you pushed aside the tangle of thoughts and emotions that had been occupying your mind. Another day had begun, and you had to continue with your routine. It was time to get up, get ready, and face the day ahead.

You climbed out of bed and made your way to the bathroom, intent on taking a shower. The warm water embraced your body, offering a comforting start to the day. The sensation of the water running down your skin seemed to wash away the lingering traces of your dream and the thoughts associated with it.

After rinsing off, you stepped out of the shower and wrapped yourself in a towel. As you dried yourself, you made a conscious effort to push the dream and its implications to the back of your mind. You couldn't let a dream, no matter how vivid, dictate your emotions.

With a determined exhale, you left the bathroom and returned to your room. You swiftly got dressed, and made your way to the kitchen to grab something to eat for breakfast. You pulled out a few items for breakfast and set them on the counter to prepare it.

As you leaned against the countertop, you couldn't shake off the persistent thoughts about Copia. It was frustrating how he seemed to have taken root in your mind, occupying your thoughts even when you were trying to go about your daily routine.

But no matter how much you rationalized, there was a part of you that couldn't help but hope for another unexpected meeting, another chance to see him, even though you were well aware that, by now, you were wishing for impossible things.

However, those thoughts were swiftly interrupted by the familiar ringtone of your phone emanating from your bedroom. Setting down your mug, you made your way to the bedroom to answer the call. Upon reaching the room, you retrieved your phone from the bed, noticing Benjamin's name illuminating the screen.

After your unexpected encounter with Benjamin on the day Copia didn't show up for your planned meeting, the two of you exchanged contact information. You found comfort in sharing with him the events of the day and how you felt about it. He became a supportive friend, offering a shoulder for you to cry on during that difficult time.

"Hey, Benjamin. What's up?" you answered the call.

"Hey!" he responded with an upbeat tone. "I was wondering if you're free this evening. I know it's a bit sudden, but there's this art exhibition happening downtown, and I thought you might be interested. Would you like to join me?"

"Art exhibition, huh?" you replied, considering the invitation. "Sure, I'd love to join you."

"Great! I'll pick you up at 7pm. Looking forward to it!" Benjamin said cheerfully before bidding you farewell.

As you hung up the call, you returned to the kitchen to finish your breakfast. The remnants of your thoughts about Copia still lingered, but you pushed them aside, focusing on your plans for the evening. It had been a while since you'd gone out with someone, and the idea of attending an art exhibition was quite appealing. Plus, Benjamin seemed like a genuinely nice guy.

The hours seemed to pass slowly, each tick of the clock stretching out as you counted down the time until the evening. You selected an outfit that was both comfortable and stylish, hoping to strike the right balance for the art exhibition. Glancing at the mirror, you adjusted a few loose strands of hair and added a touch of lip gloss.

When 7pm finally arrived, you heard a knock on your door. Opening it, you were greeted by Benjamin, looking sharp and charming in a casual yet refined ensemble.

“Hey there!” he greeted you with a warm smile. “You look fantastic.”

“Thank you,” you replied, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks.

“Shall we?” he extended his arm, and you linked yours with his.

As you walked down the street alongside Benjamin, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for his company. The two of you had developed a comfortable friendship after a few initial attempts from him. While the romantic spark hadn’t ignited, your connection as friends had grown stronger on the last few weeks.

"You look absolutely stunning tonight," Benjamin complimented.

"Well, thank you, kind sir. You're quite dashing yourself," you responded.

"Me? Oh, I'm just the usual, nothing particularly special about me. But you? Everything about you is exceptional!" he said, offering a gentle smile.

You let out a soft giggle. "So, what's on the agenda for our visit there today?"

"Well, it's not anything particularly special," Benjamin chuckled, "I just thought it would be a good spot for us to have a quiet moment."

"We've already had plenty of those, Benjamin!" you exclaimed with a laugh. "Remember when you stayed over at my place last week? We had a 'pajama party' with my friend and her... girlfriend? I'm not even sure what they are."

"Ah, well, I suppose it wasn't exactly an 'alone' moment then. More like a...couple's double date?" he quipped, a playful smirk on his lips.

You smiled, picking up on his playful tone. "Oh, you're quite the master of creative interpretations, aren't you? But you know, we're just friends hanging out."

He shrugged with an exaggerated sigh. "True, true. Just friends navigating a world of 'alone' moments and double dates."

"Benjamin! It wasn't a double date, cut it out! You goof!" you laughed playfully.

He grinned mischievously. "Oh, you're well aware that I'll never give up."

"You can tease me all you want, but I won't change my mind," you laughed. "But you're a good guy, Benjamin. Don't worry, I enjoy your company, and that's all that matters now, right?"

"For now," he replied with a playful wink.

As you and Benjamin were engaged in a pleasant conversation and sharing lighthearted laughs, something caught your attention from the corner of your eye. A glimmer of light, distinct yet mysterious, seemed to emanate from across the street. Your gaze instinctively shifted in that direction, and there he was, standing under the moonlit night sky, in a white attire with a black fedora on a hand and a cane on the other.

The moonlight seemed to dance upon his features, accentuating the enigmatic charm that surrounded him. His unique appearance, highlighted by his striking white eye, captured your gaze and held it. It felt like if his presence was a magnetic pull, drawing your attention with an almost ethereal quality.

Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes met his, a sudden rush of emotions flooding through you. It was as if the entire world had momentarily faded away, leaving only the two of you in that moment.

Unconsciously, your steps began to slow, your pace mirroring the beatings of your racing heart. His gaze was fixed upon you, and it felt as though his eyes were delving deep into the depths of your soul. The world around you seemed to blur, your attention captured entirely by the intensity of his stare. You felt a tumult of emotions surge within you—wanting to run, wanting to scream his name, wanting to curse him, to hate him, to have him near, to just want him.

Benjamin’s voice broke through your reverie, pulling your attention back to the present. “Are you okay?” he asked, concern evident in his tone.

You tore your gaze away from Copia, blinking as you refocused on Benjamin. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, offering him a reassuring smile. “Just got lost in thought for a moment.”

He nodded, his expression still tinged with worry. “Alright, just making sure.”

You continued walking, but you couldn’t help but steal another glance in Copia’s direction. However, he was no longer there, as if he had vanished into the shadows once more. Perhaps it was just your imagination playing tricks on you. Could dreams become so vivid that they started to manifest in real life? Was his image becoming a mirage, a product of your own thoughts running wild?

As you reached the Art Gallery, you felt more relaxed, ready to forget the illusion you have just had. You and Benjamin chatted amiably as you entered, your conversations ranging from art to daily life.

"So, how have you been since that day?"

"What day?" you asked, trying to play it cool.

"You know, the day that man stood you up."

"Oh... I... I haven't really thought about him, not lately. I've been doing fine," you replied, although it was quite the fib, given you'd been having frequent dreams about him almost every night. "I'm not thinking about him anymore, not at all."

"Good to know," Benjamin said, nodding.

"What do you mean?" you asked.

He turned to you, pausing in front of you, holding your chin up to him. "You understand what I'm getting at..."

"Benjamin..."

"I'm just being honest! And I've already told you, that man isn't a good person, believe me, I know."

"How can you be so certain? You don't even know him!"

"I don't need to, he left you waiting," he shrugged. "Now come on, let's check out this section." He motioned for you to follow.

Following him, the next room had art pieces that adorned the walls with a diverse collection, each one telling a unique story through colors, shapes, and textures. You and Benjamin meandered through the gallery, pausing to discuss certain piece that caught your eye; Love and Pain, from Edward Munch.

"So, what do you think about this one?" you asked, curiosity coloring your tone.

"I'm not entirely sure, to be honest. It seems a little too... I don't know," he replied, his expression contemplative.

A chuckle escaped your lips. "You're right, it's definitely not the most straightforward piece. But, you know, it's actually depicting a couple. To me, it's like the man is seeking comfort in her arms."

He tilted his head to the side, considering your interpretation. "Hmm, now that you mention it, I can kind of see it."

"No, you can't," you teased, a playful smile on your face.

He laughed. "Alright, you caught me. I can't."

You patted his back gently. "It's okay. Art is open to interpretation."

He nodded, smiling gently. "Should we keep looking around?"

"Sure."

As you and Benjamin continued to explore the gallery, a peculiar sensation crept over you. It felt as if someone's gaze was intently fixed upon you, a sensation that prickled at the back of your neck. Despite scanning the surroundings discreetly, you couldn't pinpoint anyone looking at you directly. Everyone around you appeared engrossed in the artworks, their attention absorbed by the paintings and sculptures lining the hallways. You attempted to brush off the unease, attributing it to your imagination, yet the persistent shiver down your spine refused to be dismissed.

You exchanged a glance with Benjamin, a silent question passing between you. He gave a quizzical look, likely sensing the change in your demeanor, and you mustered a reassuring smile. However, the disquieting feeling continued to linger, casting an unexplained shadow over you. But you wouldn't let it bother you, not at all.

After spending considerable time exploring the exhibition, you both decided to take a break and head to the small café corner within the gallery. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as you settled into your seats.

"So, what can I grab you?" Benjamin asked.

You chuckled, feeling a bit uncertain. "Hmm, I don't think I want coffee, but maybe..." Your eyes landed on the display of croissants, and you pointed to one. "That croissant there, please."

"Sure thing. I'll go get it for you. Just wait right here," Benjamin replied, heading to the line.

As you waited, an eerie sensation of being watched returned, causing your heart to race. You glanced around, but no one seemed to be fixated on you. You let out a heavy breath, shaking your head in an attempt to shake off the strange feeling.

You turned your attention to Benjamin, who was also casting a quick glance in your direction before giving you a small smile. You mirrored his gesture and waved back, trying to dispel the unease that had settled within you.

However, as you turned your head back, you saw him again – Copia's reflection on the café's glass window. Your heart skipped a beat, and your breath caught in your chest. Yet, when you turned to look, he was nowhere to be found. Closing your eyes, you tried to steady your racing thoughts. It was as if he was deliberately disrupting your evening, his presence infiltrating your thoughts and making it difficult to distinguish between the realms of dreams and reality.

Before you could fully process the odd turn of events, Benjamin returned to the table, placing both his and your orders on the surface. You took a moment to regain your composure, forcing a smile as you thanked him.

Your conversation flowed effortlessly. The café’s soft lighting created an intimate atmosphere, and you found yourself enjoying Benjamin’s company without any pretenses.

"Aren't you going to drink your coffee?" you inquired, glancing at Benjamin, who hadn't made a move toward his cup.

"I just remembered that I have some matters to attend to tomorrow, and if I drink coffee now, I won't be able to sleep," he explained.

"Yeah, that makes sense," you agreed with a giggle. "Coffee can keep us awake for a long time. Maybe it's better to avoid it."

“So, any particular piece that stood out to you?” Benjamin asked, leaning back in his chair.

You thought for a moment before replying, “There was this abstract painting in the corner. It seemed chaotic at first glance, but the more I looked at it, the more I saw a hidden harmony in the chaos.”

A thoughtful smile curved Benjamin’s lips. “You really have a fondness for art, don’t you?”

You chuckled, realizing your enthusiasm might have been evident. “I wouldn’t say I’m a person who knows everything about every artist or that I can identify every piece we saw today. But yes, I do enjoy it. There’s something… calming about being surrounded by it.”

“I'm sorry to talk about it, but, I’ve noticed that you seem somewhat agitated tonight,” Benjamin began, his tone gentle. “I mean, not just tonight, but…”

“Did I? Do I really look agitated?” you inquired, your attempt at feigning nonchalance revealing your nervousness.

His gaze met yours, and he offered a reassuring smile. “You know, you can talk to me about anything, right?” As he spoke, his hand reached out, finding yours and holding it gently.

Your heart skipped a beat at his unexpected gesture, but his sincerity put you at ease. “I… I guess I know that.”

“Then, tell me, what’s been going on?” His voice was soft, encouraging you to open up.

Taking a deep breath, you gathered your thoughts before starting to speak. “It’s a bit complicated. I’ve been having these dreams lately, and they’re not exactly nightmares, but they’re… haunting me.”

His grip on your hand remained steady, his expression attentive. “What kind of dreams are they?”

“There’s this man,” you began. “I’m inexplicably drawn to him in the dreams. He keeps showing up at my front door, saying the same thing over and over: ‘I had to come back, I had to come back to you.’ But he never actually returned,” you chuckled, though it held a tinge of sadness. “He never did.”

"Who is he?"

"I don't think it matters," you responded, a touch of melancholy tugging at your lips.

"Is it the man who didn't show up on that day?"

"Yes, it is..." you murmured, feeling a hint of embarrassment wash over you.

He nodded knowingly. "I had a feeling it might be him. But consider this: aren't you allowing your imagination to run wild? I don't want to be blunt, but have you thought that maybe you were just one of many?"

His words hit you like a wave, disappointment and realization washing over you. While you had never let yourself believe that there was something more between you and the man from the ball, hearing it spoken so plainly made your heart ache. You and he had nothing tangible, no connection beyond that fleeting moment on the balcony. Were you truly nothing more than another woman he had tried to charm at the ball? While you had tried to dismiss any romantic notions, the intensity of your dreams and the vivid memories of that night had painted a different picture.

"I'm sorry if my words hurt you," Benjamin said gently, his tone filled with empathy. "But maybe it's time to let go of this. He was just a man, after all. And he's not here with you right now."

You offered him a small smile. "You're right. I think you're right."

Benjamin's perspective was a much-needed reminder that you held the reins to your own thoughts and feelings. The fleeting encounter with Copia might have ignited curiosity and dreams, but it was up to you to decide how much space he occupied in your life moving forward.

The doubt that had lingered within you resurfaced once more. What if Benjamin’s perspective wasn’t entirely accurate? What if there was more to that encounter, to those dreams, than what met the eye?

You looked at Benjamin, your gaze contemplative. “What if he wasn’t just a man? What if there’s something more that I haven’t fully understood yet?”

Benjamin met your gaze, his expression contemplative. "It's possible," he glanced at his wristwatch. "Well, we should probably go. I have some matters to attend to tomorrow."

You nodded in agreement, rising from your seats alongside Benjamin. Together, you made your way toward the exit of the café. Benjamin courteously held the door open for you, and you stepped outside.

"So, would you like me to accompany you to your house?" Benjamin asked.

"Oh!" you shook your head negatively. "Please, you should head back to your own house and rest for the evening. Mine isn't too far, so I can manage on my own."

"Are you sure?" Benjamin's hand reached out, gently tilting your chin to meet his gaze.

"I... I'm quite sure," you affirmed, offering a nod to emphasize your point.

"Well, I insist on taking you home. I can't let you go back alone at this time, it can be dangerous out there," Benjamin said, reaching for your hand.

The short walk to your house was filled with silence, Benjamin holding your hand all the way. You felt a sense of unease, but you didn't speak up about it. Your mind was preoccupied, thoughts of Copia lingering like a persistent shadow. It was as if his presence had cast a spell over you, making it impossible to think of anything or anyone else. You couldn't shake the feeling of longing that had settled within you. You knew that you wanted it to be Copia by your side, and your mind couldn't leave him alone. His absence had become a constant ache, and you couldn't help but wonder where he was and why he had left you waiting that fateful day.

As you reached your doorstep, he reluctantly let go of your hand. You fished for your keys in your pocket and turned to him.

"Thank you very much for keeping me company," you said with gratitude in your voice.

"You don't have to thank me; I just wanted to make sure you'd be safe," he said, his hand coming to rest on your door as he took a step closer to you.

"Absolutely, don't worry," you reassured him, though your heart raced as you watched him approach.

"So," he took a step closer to you. "Is this the part where we kiss?"

"What?" you exclaimed, caught off guard by his unexpected suggestion.

He grinned playfully. "You know, a kiss to wrap up our little date."

"I... I'm not sure about this, Benjamin."

A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. "Well, I think this might be the perfect moment."

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, causing your back to hit the door. His face approached yours slowly, but instead of kissing you, his lips went straight to your neck. He started to kiss it softly, leaving a trail of warmth on your skin. For a moment, you remained still, your mind racing. Your hands went to his chest, and you tried to say his name, but nothing came out from your mouth until the moment you felt his mouth open and your skin being bitten.

You pulled back from him, pushing him away, your look filled with fear as your hand reached for your neck. “H- Have a good night, Benjamin.”

You quickly inserted your key into the door, opening it, and entering your house. Your heart was pounding, and your mind was in a whirlwind of confusion and shock. You hadn't given him permission for that level of intimacy, and you felt violated by his actions.

Inside, you removed your shoes and went straight to your bathroom. You turned on the light, angling your head in front of the mirror to see the faint imprint of his teeth on your neck. You took a deep breath, then reached for the sink, letting the water flow into your hand. Gently, you cleaned the bruise mark, trying to wash away not only the physical mark but also the memory of the unwanted advance.

Your thoughts a whirlwind of contemplation. The cafe, the gallery, the conversations – the unwanted advance. They all swirled within you, creating a storm of thoughts and feelings that you struggled to make sense of.

With a heavy sigh, you felt the weight of the night settling upon you. Your steps grew heavier, as if each one required an extra effort to leave your bathroom. The world around you seemed to blur, and you felt like you were merely existing in a hazy, disconnected state. The unexpected and unwelcome action from Benjamin had left you shaken and unsure of how to process what had just happened.

Your heart sank at the sound of the doorbell echoing through your house. The mere thought that it could be Benjamin again sent a shiver down your spine.

With cautious steps, you approached your door and took a look through the peephole. There he was – Copia, the man who had invaded your dreams and thoughts. The man who had left you waiting and wondering. Seeing him there, at this very moment, left your mind spinning, overwhelmed by the unexpectedness of his presence.

"No, not now," you whispered to yourself, in frustration. This wasn't the time for your mind to play tricks on you, not today. Could this really be happening? Could he actually be standing there, in the flesh, after all this time? Your mind echoed with a silent plea, a desperate wish that he was indeed real, that he was truly standing before you. "Please, let it be real," you whispered in the depths of your mind, a plea directed at fate or the universe itself.

You quickly opened your door, wanting to ensure he wouldn't have the opportunity to leave once more, tears blurring your vision. For your surprise, he didn't disappear; he remained there. Your arms extended towards him, wrapping around his neck as you pulled him into a tight embrace. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you buried your face in his shoulder. His arms began to rise, poised to encircle you in return, but he stopped before completing the embrace. You could feel the warmth of his presence, his breath against your ear, and the beat of his heart that seemed so real.

"Cosa c'è che non va, piccola?" he asked in a murmur.

His voice, laced with concern, reached your ears, and you lifted your head from his shoulder, your tear-stained face now visible. You met his concerned gaze, shaking your head in disbelief.

"Scusami, piccola," he continued to whisper, he removed one of his gloves, reaching for your face. His touch gentle as he wiped away your tears with the back of his hand.

His touch, though cold against the warmth of your skin, had a soothing effect. As you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, you felt a measure of calmness settling within you.

You mustered the strength to speak, despite the hiccups of your crying that interrupted your words. "C- Co..." you tried, your voice wavering. "Cop- Copia..."

"Sì, cara, sì," he reassured you, his voice gentle and soothing. "Sono io."

"It's you," you repeated, your voice waving between disbelief and relief. "And you are... here."

Opening your eyes, you looked at him, your gaze tracing every contour of his face. It was as if you were trying to memorize and remember every detail, to imprint his presence into your mind to dispel any lingering doubts.

Your fingers trembled slightly as they reached out to touch his cold cheek. The sensation of his skin against your fingertips sent shivers down your spine, but it was also grounding in a strange way. Your touch gradually grew more confident, and you cupped his face with both of your hands, your fingers tracing the lines of his features as if to confirm that he was truly standing before you.

He gently took hold of your hands, his touch grounding and comforting as he held them against his face. Closing his eyes, he let out a sigh, his lips parting slightly as if he was grappling with his own thoughts and emotions.

"A- Are you really here?" you questioned, your voice trembling.

"Sì cara mia, I am here," he murmured, his tone laden with apology.

The familiar scene sent a wave of conflicting emotions crashing over you. It was like a cruel echo of the dreams that had haunted you, the dreams that seemed so real until you woke up alone. As if to escape the cycle, you took a step back, your trembling hands reaching for your doorknob. But they slipped from your grasp.

"Please, leave me alone. I can't do it again, please, I'm so tired I can't do it right now, I can't! I can't go insane right now, just please go away, leave my mind alone, leave me alone," your words rushed out in desperation and frustration, a plea for a reprieve from the torment that seemed to have become entwined with your reality.

Copia stood before you in silence, his expression stamping confusion, concern, and a hint of sadness. His eyes held yours, searching for an understanding of the turmoil that had consumed you. It was clear that he was grappling with your words, trying to piece together the puzzle of your emotions and the reasons behind your distress.

"What is happening, cara?" he asked softly. "Non capisco."

"I'm so tired, Copia, I'm so tired," your voice wavered, carrying the weight of your emotions. "Since that day, I've been feeling like this, and I hate it because I can't understand it."

"I think I need to apologize to you, cara," he admitted, his eyes reflecting a deep sense of introspection. "I believe that what I did may have caused these tormented feelings within you. I want you to know that I didn't plan to leave you, and I wasn't lying when I said I would meet you there." He used his hands to emphasize his words. "I truly wished to go, I genuinely did. But circumstances led me to... an unexpected setback. I should have handled this situation differently, perhaps said something or nothing at all. For that, please, accept my sincerest apologies."

His form seemed to curve slightly before you, his hand lifting his fedora from his head. A soft chuckle escaped your lips as Copia's form seemed to dip before you, his hat elegantly lifted. The image held an air of old-fashioned chivalry, both charming and oddly fitting.

He straightened back up, looking at you. "Why are you laughing?" he inquired, his curiosity piqued.

You couldn't help but smile at his reaction. "This is a part of the dream I've never seen before," you confessed, the chuckles continuing.

"What dream?" he arched an eyebrow.

You quickly corrected yourself, trying to cover your tracks. "No dream," you shook your head, feigning innocence. "Did I say dream? I think you're hearing things now, maybe you are, indeed, too old," you playfully teased, your laughter filling the air.

Copia pretended he was offended as he corrected your interpretation of his words. "Scusami? I'm not old, I just came from a different time," he remarked with a good-natured smile, settling his fedora back onto his head.

"Thank you, Copia," you said, offering a gentle smile.

"Eh? Why?" he replied, a curious look in his eyes.

"For returning," you responded, your gaze shifting to the floor.

"I mean... Well... I..." he nodded in agreement. "I sensed your distress, your turmoil," he continued, his tone apologetic. "I should've known I had to be around you. I'm sorry if my absence caused you pain."

You looked at him, your eyes widening in surprise. "You... felt it? My emotions?"

He nodded. "Sì, eh... I'm truly sorry for any distress it caused you."

"It's... It's okay," you said, your voice softening. "I appreciate that you came back."

He smiled warmly at you. "I didn't want you to feel alone, not anymore."

With a smile, you approached the doorknob, but before taking a step inside, you turned to face him, you took a deep breath, mustering the courage to speak up.

“Err… Copia,” you began, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Would you, I don't know… Would you like to come in?" The words rushed out, and you mentally chided yourself for your nervousness. It was the first time you were seeing him after weeks of tormenting dreams about his absence, and you couldn't pass up the chance to have his presence a little while longer.

His smile remained gentle as he regarded you, his green eye holding a warmth that was hard to ignore. “I… I appreciate your invitation, but I don’t think it would be appropriate,” he replied, his tone soft yet polite.

"Why wouldn't it be appropriate?" you asked, puzzled.

"Oh, you'll have to excuse me, but I saw you were with someone, and I don't think it would be appropriate to enter the house of a woman who seems to be taken," Copia explained.

"Following me again, Copia?" you teased him, tilting your head. "I'm not a woman who is taken, no one took me, Copia."

Copia furrowed his brows, looking intently at your neck. "What is that?" he asked.

You followed his gaze to your neck and quickly placed your hand on the bruise mark. "It's what the 'someone' did to me. He claimed he was kissing me, but the idiot decided it was a good idea to bite me instead," you explained, your voice filled with frustration and disgust.

Copia took a step closer to you, stopping at your doorframe. "Perhaps I can accept your invitation to stay, so we can make sure that the someone will not bother you again tonight?"

"Oh!" you exclaimed. "I didn't think about that, but yeah, I would really appreciate it. Please, come in."

You took a step back, and Copia entered your house. He cast a quick glance around your living room, while you closed and locked the door securely. When you turned to him, you noticed a slight smile on the corner of his lips. You walked towards him, placing a hand on his lower back, and you sensed his body shiver with your touch.

"If you'd like, you can leave your shoes at the door and hang your hat there too," you said gently.

Copia turned his head to you, a faint blush on his cheek. He nodded and walked in silence to your door, removing his shoes and jacket, along with his fedora, and hanging them neatly beside the door. You observed his every move with keen attention, noting each action he took. When he turned back to face you, you quickly averted your gaze, looking in another direction.

"S-So... I was about to change into my nightclothes. Would you please wait here?" you asked.

"Certo, cara," Copia said, walking over to your couch and taking a seat. "I'll be waiting for you to come back."

You nodded and made your way to your bedroom. Inside, you swiftly removed your clothes, a feeling of discomfort and frustration still lingering from the evening's events. You didn't even want to look at those clothes anymore, so you quickly discarded them into your laundry basket. Your bra was left on the floor as you made your way to your wardrobe, opening the small section to retrieve some comfortable clothing. Going to another part of your wardrobe, you retrieved some sheets and a pillow. You returned to the living room with them.

"Copia, I got you these. Maybe, I don't know, if you feel tired because of the hour, you can sleep here. My friend will probably be back soon from her girlfriend's house, so if you don't mind..." you offered.

He got up from the couch, walking in your direction. "You didn't have to, cara. I- I don't need any of those, I would be comfortable on your couch with the pillows you have there."

"No, I insist. You're my guest, and I can't have you feeling uncomfortable at all," you insisted, handing him the pillow and sheets.

Copia accepted them from your hand and made his way back to the couch. You followed him, watching as he arranged the pillow and sheets. You couldn't help but chuckle silently when you thought you saw him briefly press his face against the pillow.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Copia?" you asked, standing in front of him. His gaze trailed up from your legs to your eyes, his lips parting as if he had something to say.

He gradually rose from the couch, his hand's knuckles softly brushing against your exposed thighs, his gaze never breaking away from yours. Your heart raced as he drew closer, and you closed your eyes briefly, feeling your breath quicken. He was so close now, just one step away from you. The anticipation was palpable; your bodies were on the verge of touching, your skins ready to blend, your hearts poised to intertwine.

"Cara..." Copia whispered.

"Yes, Copia?" you whispered back, your voice barely audible.

His forehead touched yours, his face impossibly close. The room was wrapped in silence, and you could swear that the only sound you heard, or perhaps felt, was the synchronized beating of your hearts. His hands seemed to be drawing closer to your body, though he never actually touched you; you felt as though they were tracing your curves from a distance, electrifying your skin with their proximity.

His head shifted, tilting to the side, and his nose brushed against yours. Your hands moved slowly, trembling, as they reached for his chest. Fingers traced the buttons on his shirt, one after the other, until you were close to his belly. A gasp escaped your lips, and you quickly withdrew your hand to his chest, biting your lower lip in hesitation. You felt the urge to open your eyes, just to confirm how near he was, to see his face inches from yours, to convey with your gaze the depth of your desire for him. For some reason, your longing for him was stronger than you had ever realized. Perhaps you could blame it on the dreams you'd been having about him, each one steeped in an intimacy you two had never truly shared but now yearned for desperately.

"I want to ask for your forgiveness. Would you forgive me?" he whispered, his voice so close to your lips.

"O- Of course, I forgive you, Copia," you replied, your breath hitching.

"Do you promise me?" His lips made the slightest contact with yours, a gentle, almost ghostly touch that left a subtle sensation in its wake.

"I promise," you affirmed, fighting the urge to close the gap and capture his lips with yours.

His hand reached for the back of your neck, and his face drew closer to it. His breath sent shivers through your body, almost like he was magically easing the pain of your bruise. His lips gently touched the bruise, planting a soft kiss there. Your entire body relaxed as he continued to kiss the area around the bruise and then again, the bruise itself. The sensation of his lips and breath against your skin made it difficult to concentrate; you felt like you were melting, aching for more of him. The sensation of his lips on your neck, combined with the tickling touch of his mustache, was overwhelming. It was impossible not to feel intoxicated by him.

You rested your arms on his shoulders and encircled his neck, drawing him nearer until your bodies pressed against each other. A growing heat surged within you, and you tilted your head, placing it on your arm to grant him better access to the bruise. He continued with the feather-light kisses, each one sending a shiver of pleasure through you. Despite your efforts, you couldn't stifle your sighs and gasps. You waged an internal battle to keep any sounds from escaping your lips. However, when his other hand reached for your hips, pulling you closer against him, you couldn't help but let out a soft, involuntary moan. One of your hands instinctively found its way to his hair, gripping it firmly, and you could swear you heard a low grunt from him. You bit your lower lip once more, tilting your head to the side. Copia quickly understood your unspoken desire and gently moved your hair away from your neck. He then began to place tender kisses on your neck, trailing to the back of your ear.

You didn't want him to stop; you craved more, needing it to continue. You wondered if he would finally kiss you, but he gradually pulled away, his hand releasing its gentle hold on the back of your neck and hips. Instead, he pressed a tender kiss onto your forehead. For a few moments, your eyes remained closed, and you could still feel the lingering sensation of his lips on your neck. You took a deep breath to compose yourself, then opened your eyes, only to find him in the midst of unbuttoning his black shirt, his gaze fixed on his own movements.

You took a step back from him, and he lifted his head to glance in your direction. You were gasping for air, feeling a bit flustered, while he appeared as if nothing had happened. However, he couldn't quite conceal his reddened cheeks and the small smirk he tried to hide by looking down at his shirt.

"I suppose this is goodnight, then," you said, feeling a touch of disappointment in your voice.

"Sì, è una buona notte per ora," he replied, standing up and removing his black shirt.

Quickly, you averted your gaze, not wanting to intrude on his privacy, and made your way to your bedroom. Your heart was still racing loudly, and you were certain that he could hear it if he tried. You closed your bedroom door behind you, your breathing heavy and labored. You attempted to regain your composure after being in such close proximity to him, feeling desire and frustration. How could he have this effect on you? It was almost as if he could read your thoughts, perhaps they were more audible than you had realized. But the real issue was that it seemed you weren't the only one consumed by desire; otherwise, why would he kiss your neck with such intensity? The question of whether he wanted you as much as you wanted him lingered in the air.

Returning to those questions now seemed like a fruitless endeavor. After all, you had already left him in the living room, and going back there didn't seem like a viable option. What could your excuse even be? "I want you, please take me?" No, you couldn't bring yourself to utter those words to him.

You made your way to your bed, hoping that lying down might help you escape the turmoil of your thoughts and give your mind a break. However, the moment your head touched the pillow, your desire for him intensified. You wished he hadn't stopped, that he had continued, perhaps leading to the sensation of his lips against yours. Maybe you could be with him on the couch right now, or better yet, he could be here with you in your bed. Your gaze remained fixed on the door, and the temptation to rise from your bed and go to him felt like an agonizing fire within you. However, you knew you were better than that, stronger than you had ever realized.

With a deep sigh, you turned your back to the door and closed your eyes, making an effort to calm yourself. Sleep was slowly beginning to wash over you, and you were on the verge of drifting off when a faint noise at your door jolted you awake. The slow creaking of the floorboards filled you with anticipation. Suddenly, you sensed someone or something drawing closer, and you rapidly opened your eyes, only to find Copia standing right beside you. The shock of the unexpected sight caused both of you to let out loud screams.

"Ah! Per l'amor del inferno, sei ancora sveglia!"

You laughed, not understanding a single word he was saying, but his expression was too comical to ignore. "What? What are you doing here, Copia?"

"I thought you were already asleep, so I came to check on you, to see if you were fine, cara," he explained, placing a hand on his chest to steady himself.

You slowly sat up in your bed, studying him. "I am fine; you don't have to worry about it. If something happens, I'll scream for you."

Copia nodded, crossing his arms. "Bene. I just wanted to make sure you were all right, and it seems you're doing better than I expected. Maybe I should leave you to get some sleep now."

"No, please," you said, reaching for his arms. "I'm not that sleepy anyway. You can stay a little longer if you want. After all, you came here to make sure I was safe, didn't you? Although I don't quite understand why," you chuckled. "But you can stay here a while longer until I fall asleep, if you want."

Copia slowly sat on your bed, facing your window. He rested his hands on his thighs, and you moved closer to him. He locked his gaze with yours, and you smiled at him. Reaching for one of his hands, he turned it to hold yours, brushing his thumb on the back of your hand. You brought his hand to your face, closing your eyes. Gently, you stroked his hand across your cheek with your thumb, savoring the sensation of having him so close, touching you.

"Copia..." you whispered his name.

"Sì, mia bellissima piccola?" he whispered back, turning his body towards you.

Even with your eyes closed, you sensed him completely facing you now. You wrestled with your desires, uncertain whether you could let this opportunity slip away. After all, it had been your longing that almost drew you to him in the living room, and now he was right in front of you. Summoning courage with a deep breath, you made your move and pressed your lips to his, delivering a quick, soft, and gentle peck. You slowly opened your eyes, finding him with his eyes closed and flushed cheeks. His hand left your cheek and moved to the back of your head, urging your lips to meet his with more intensity. You closed your eyes again, and for several heart-pounding seconds, your lips remained fused together in a lingering kiss.

"Now, it is a good night," you whispered with your lips brushing against his.

"S-Sì… Now it's a delightful night, cara," he whispered trying to reach your lips again.

You bit your lower lip and pulled back, settling against the headboard of your bed. "Don't worry, Copia. I'll be fine. I just need to sleep, and you need it too, right? I don't want to keep you awake."

"Sì, we should sleep now," he said, getting up from your bed, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"So... Goodnight?" you looked at him, rising from your bed, placing your hands behind your back, and stopping in front of him, tilting your head.

"S- Sì..." his eyes traveled from your body back to your eyes. "Buona... notte..." he replied slowly, walking towards your door and eventually leaving your room, closing the door behind him.

You let out a sigh and stared at your door. You couldn't believe he had left, but more importantly, you couldn't believe you had kissed him. Your heart raced in your chest, and once again, the desire to get up and go after him gnawed at you. But no, that was enough for the night. You had an even greater problem to confront now: trying to fall asleep while ignoring the intense heat that had built up inside of you.

⸻ Grammar

Cara (mia): (My) Dear

Sì: Yes/Right

Cosa c'è che non va, piccola?: What is wrong, little girl?

Scusami, piccola: Excuse me, little girl

Sono io: It's me

Non capisco: I don't understand

Certo: Of course

Sì, è una buona notte per ora: Yes, it's a good night for now

Per l'amor del inferno, sei ancora sveglia: For the love of hell, you're still awake.

Bene: Good

Buonanotte: Goodnight

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mecachrome · 3 months

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what did you study at university if you don't mind me asking... you seem knowledgeable on so many topics it's pretty cool to see

c*mp*t*r sc*ence unfortunately 😔 i don't actually know anything about anything though because i'm a fraud alskfdh i simply have adhd and enjoy obtaining rudimentary surface-level knowledge about useless things!!! but thank u anon you are too kind... T__T 💕

#ask #struggled a lot at uni though because of my health :saluting_face: part of why i'll always stringently defend people's academic choices

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drippingmoon · 3 months

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hi there, jan c! as a fellow moot for sleepy-night-child, i hereby offer virtual soup and cookies. 🍲 🍲 🍲 🍲 🍲 and 🍪 🍪 🍪 🍪 🍪. sending creative energy and grand ☆☆ vibes ☆☆ your way! ^-^ - ✨️ Enc (@enchanted-lightning-aes)

Hi, Enchant! I don't think we ever properly introduced each other, but any friend of our dear nightfriend is more than welcome and appreciated here. Soup and cookies received!! And, have some 💞brownies💞 and 💙ice cream💙 to go, for the summer heat. Thanks a lot for the energy and vibes, and for dropping by, and I'm bouncing them right back!🤩🤭🥰💫🏌‍♀️

#people being sweethearts #have a great day ahead enchant!

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thoughtformchoreographer · 4 months

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a small crack rumbles through the room as a space symbol appears before solidifying into something more*. ???: can you guys through quickly..? im not keen on holding this long. *The portal opens much silenter than it appeared with a gold blood in their god tier holding it open on the other side*. GC: right, hun, we @int tryin to w@ste time here. ??: They DiD say it was urgent! *the gold blood steps back to allow the figures through to the center. A jade with a tidy outfit, a bag, and with puffed out hair steps through with a purple blood in boar-like boots and striped pants with a rust on their back who has tattooed signs down her arms and long hair*. GC: you sure you got this next p@rt? L@st thing we need is another port@l rel@ted injury ??: ive got it… just back up so he can get through..! *with the confirmation the rust gets off the purples back and backs away while the purple steps to the side of the portal. With a heave the gold pushes the portal open further allowing for a blue with overly large horns to get through with some assistance by the purple*. *with everyone else through the gold stops actively holding the portal open, slumping forward slightly from the excursion. The purple crouching down and pulling them through before the portal finally shuts and the rust introduces them*. Ralgun: hope you don’t mind me bringing reinforcements, you’ve @lre@dy t@lked to me but I’m R@lgun, the d@mn l@mppost in the weird boots is T@ull, our sp@cy boy is Selzin, the one in a whole form@l outfit is Jydine, and the eleg@nt one is Tolk@. Hope we didn’t t@ke too long. Ralgun brings a desk up behind DS for better access to his horns* Ralgun: So, Jyd with me. Ralgun : Tolk@ help Vyv control the se@ be@st so things don’t get n@sty. Ralgum: @nd T@ull bring Sel over so he c@n help with the c@st when we need him too, get behind DS enc@se we need to get him under control quickly, and for the love of jegus put something on th@t doesn’t m@ke you look hiveless. Ralgun: perfect, let’s get this done. (I also did a reblog with pictures but I didn’t know if you wanted to keep it here so I did this just in case 👍)

VYVYAN: --<< Th4nk you 4ll 2o much for coming. 4242. DUALSCAR: *grrrrooovvwwwllll* VYVYAN: --<< Hey! 4242. VYVYAN: --<< Eye on me. Focu2 on ME. 4242. VYVYAN: --<< Pretend I'm 2omeone you re4lly c4re 4bout. 4242. VYVYAN: --<< Come on, Du4l2c4r... There H42 to be 2omeone you love. 4242. VYVYAN: --<< Dig through your memory. 4242. VYVYAN: --<< 2omeone you'd protect. 2omeone you'd die for. 4242. VYVYAN: --<< 2omeone you really m♊22. 4242.

[Dualscar is now safe to work on.]

(I hope I drew all your characters right!!! <:) this was super fun to do I really hope I didn't get anything wrong :P pls lmk if I did heehee. )

(This is the ask version of this btw <:) just to make things easier if need be! )

#homestuck #ask blog #homestuck ask blog #hs dualscar #dualscar ampora #orphaner dualscar #roleplay blog #ongoing plotline #trollsona #hs oc

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twisting-roads · 8 months

Text

[PART 8, SECTION 1]

I am going to try and make these longer, I can only take meticulously editing text in html for so long though

(811.312) [LIVE BROADCAST] - PRIVATE Cage Of Membrane, Chain Of Missing Links

COML: Still at it? COML: It has been very lonely without you… COM: large work…load COM: -ots of bio bio biomatter COML: What kind of biomatter? COM: neuron- and variations COM: large qua quantity COML: Have you received anything about SBC yet? COML: A few cycles ago Thirteen Catastrophes’ overseers have begun to spy on me, very obviously too, at that. I’m forbidden from gathering more data at this time. COM: no COM: thirteen catas-- scolded me as well… i am innocentt ~! COML: I recall that Horizon Of Sulfur became involved with this as well. Should I go ask him if he can tell me anything? COM: please, do do not COML: I… understand. I just know how close SBC was to you. I want to make sure it’s okay. COM: do not concern y y yourself so much much with issues you can’t con control… COM: i -not know if sbc will fully r recover or not. i can say with c- fidence though… i could speak to it it…again soon COML: Understood, yes, I apologize. COM: d dont be sorry… i appri… -ate all you try to to to do for me… you care so… ch… COM: its very up upsetting when you you use the professionalism voice… s stay safe… please

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(812.342) [LIVE BROADCAST] - PRIVATE Cage Of Membrane, Chain Of Missing Links

COM: ha have yo… -een doing well the the last cycle? COML: Normal business, I suppose. Why do you ask? COM: …been thinking… COM: boundary… n needs help. nob… -dy has done any anything… COML: But it’s like you said, we would get in trouble wouldn’t we…? I breached their privacy without permission, if I push that further I risk punishment, and dragging you down with me would be terrible. COML: I’m privileged enough to have very loose restrictions on what I’m able to do, and I know you don’t have those same luxuries- COM: n not that, silly! i have asked perm… -on to send… a care package of of sorts. my requ request has… yet to go through COML: …Oh COML: What do you plan on sending though? COM: not my deci… -on COML: I suppose if you had the choice then, what would you send? Perhaps a creature smart enough to understand its purpose, but dull enough to follow it blindly? COM: rude… haha- COML: Well- you know what I meant! You tell me horror stories of purposed organisms too clever to listen to simple commands all the time. I suppose you’d know more about the specifics than I do, though. COM: well i i could send you you the… data containing the- genome sequence-ence… i planned

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(812.784) [LIVE BROADCAST] - PRIVATE Chain Of Missing Links, Oblivion On Quartz Towers

OOQT: I have never been the type to gossip really, but it is incredibly suspicious how involved Thirteen Catastrophes has been. OOQT: I assume you already know. COML: I know more than I should. I’ve been dedicating the last few cycles to attempting to piece together this situation. OOQT: Explains your recent inertness. I don’t know how you’ve kept it up for this long without having any more restrictions placed on you. OOQT: Anyways, if it comforts you, everyone I spoke to essentially came to a similar conclusion about TC as well. COML: I’m better at covering my tracks than you might think. COML: And that is nice to know, I suppose. OOQT: Oh really? Good at covering your tracks? COML: Well, like you said, I’ve gone a while without any of our creators finding out yet, hahaha! OOQT: Well, is it because you’re actually good at this, or because of how dull your administrators are. COML: Oh be nice- they’re lovely individuals, I do like them. COML: Quartz, can I be honest with you? OOQT: You’ve been honest this whole time, haven’t you? COML: No, seriously. I’m not sure if I should say it, but I trust you to know. It might be important. OOQT: Ah. I’ll keep any secrets you disclose to me safe. COML: I… plan on intercepting TC’s broadcasts. I have to if I want to know more about what she plans to do with SBC. COML: Even if I can’t do anything to stop him, I don’t want any of this data to become lost. I see the warning signs now, and I can’t let them be obscured. OOQT: I understand how lax your administrators are, but something like this will certainly get some eyes on you. Are you sure you’d want to follow through a plan like this? COML: I feel a sense of obligation… OOQT: I won’t tell you no, but I’m telling you that there is a reason as to why interceptions are so uncommon. COML: I’ll be doing it anyways. OOQT: Good luck then. I’ll be there for you when you’re apprehended. COML: Wow, thanks. OOQT: I mean it.

#writing #lotg #light on tainted glass

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noisytenant · 9 months

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tips for reducing misspellings of these words that are pulled out of my ass but i personally use

restaurant - in Spanish it's "restaurante". You pronounce all the vowels. Easily

liaison - sound it out slowly. "lee-ay-ee-sawn". the second "i" is in there. alternative mnemonic: the "a" is the liaison between the two "i"'s it is between.

consensus - not actually sure what the common misspelling is. is it concensus? like the census? anyways, its root is con (with) + sense; we share the same sense; then the "us" is just a latin-root word ending

perseverance - there's no overt rule for figuring out whether a word ends in "-ence" or "-ance". my tip is either to exaggerate the sound ("perseverAAANCE") in your head, or to come up with a mnemonic that reinforces the right letter. shitty one i just made: "antsy perseverance grants you an anxious reward"

acknowledgment - if you spell it acknowledgement, you aren't technically wrong--but american english favors without the e, while british english includes it. "judgment" has the same challenge. maybe you can think, "in britain, they lend acknowledgement to the 'e', but in america, they don't", if that helps at all.

apparently - same root, "apparere", as apparition and appear. so it's two 'p's and one 'r'.

maintenance - similar to perseverance. mnemonic consideration: "maintenance ants are coming to fix my crumb machine"

necessary - the only word i can think of where a "cc" creates a soft "c" sound is one pronunciation of "flaccid" (which i am just now finding out can be pronounced "flaksid" as well). but almost always, "cc" is hard "c", single is soft. it only needs the one.

recommendation - root is the same as "commend", as in to praise. after you've commended someone, re-commend them to someone else.

relevant - spanish again helps us with "relevante".

hope this helps

#indexed post #i hesitate even making this rebloggable this is less a helpful post and more me being autistic but like #im trying to ease up on locking my posts and just save it for like. personal blogging yknow

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beingharsh · 1 year

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not enough to count all the jotxs that died for this No structure imme nse enough to do t he job of holding th e legacy the xtrava ganzas left for us We take the challe nge To heart We gi ve ourselves a plac e to mourn Empty graves are still gra ves to tend We hav e no leaders they w ere all killed We ha ve exploitative doc umentaries produc ed by white women with something to prove We have wha t little a google sea rch can restore to u s No way to bring t hem back We can c hant and chant We will will them back & be here to greet Paris is burning & queens are dying st ill I’m afraid of bei ng killed If i’m hon est i’ve been afraid of being killed ever since i realized i ha ve a target on my b ack Do you see it? When i was a little girl i learned to ext inguish the urge to say anything out lo ud for people to he ar This is wrong thi s is wrong so wron g so fucking wrong i’d yell inside my girl head for only me All the jotxs that di ed for this will nev er be here to experi ence it They’re d ead Were killed Th ey, honestly, didn’t even die for this Th ey just died & now there is a this they missed out on All t he jotxs that died f or this, i hope they were able to imagi ne it And i hope we have imagined the m with us as best we can But who kn ows They’re dead & they died Nuestr xs abuelxs don’t ev en know our name s Or that we exist I imagine one day w will meet, say mira …….. lo que nos dejaste fue magia o la sciencia o el poder de los jotxs pero si, aqui estas puedes dormír en paz

"xtravaganza cenotaph", Roda Avelar

#roda avelar #poetry #poem #graphic design #art #trans #words #my posts

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agent-eight-the-octoling · 3 months

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₩hen i føund ¥øur univer§e ¤nd re¤lized ₩h¤t it held, i ₩¤§... curiøu§. like ¤ mi§pl¤ced §et piece th¤t didn't re¤ll¥ feel øut øf pl¤ce, it intrigued me;

₩h¤tever i cøuld le¤rn ₩¤§ øbfu§c¤ted in truth§ - hidden, ¥et knø₩n;

i ₩¤nted tø §ee hø₩ it ¤ll fit in;

i ₩¤§n't ¤l₩¤¥§ like thi§, free øf §ø much time. i've §ent §øme me§§¤ge§ tø øther§, re¤ching øut ¤nd ¥et, there'§ §øme degree øf §ilence;

i c¤nnøt prømi§e m¥ pre§ence ₩øn't §t¤in thi§ pl¤ce, but... ₩øuld ¥øu be cert¤in tø h¤ve me here?

(h-huh??)

(m-my universe? w-what do you mean)

(whoever you you are, l-leave "my universe" alone)

*she seems frightened and confused*

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ellssbellss · 6 months

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Lavender Roses - Kyoya Ootori x Reader

pairing ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader

here it is! so sorry it took so long, but unfortunately updates will be slow. but i will not abandon this story! i have too many plans :)

-> summary: Nodding, you pull your purse onto your shoulder, and Kyoya barely has time to react before you’re furiously brushing past him.

“Let me make it less complicated for you, then. Since everything else is.” Your voice is cold as you push open the exit, still avoiding eye-contact. “You won’t have to save me anymore.”

-> tw! descriptions of drowning.

-> word count: (whole episode): 20k

-> legend:

(f/h/d) - favorite hot drink

(s/c) - suit color

see masterlist! masterlist

A Challenge for Lobelia Girl's Academy!

Your lungs have flattened as you float, and your heart rate has ceased its erratic beating, but somehow your brain is still conscious. The comfort of breathing has been robbed from you, and yet you're still awake, still suffering as the freezing water breaks into your skin and rips through your muscles, chilling your bones with a pursuit that had to be admired.

Your eyes are open, (e/c) irises staring blankly up through ripples of water, your eyelids only being held open by the force of the current. Cold water rushes past your skin and pushes you deeper into a black abyss, away from the sunbeams that pierce through the watery veil.

It’s as if they're laughing at you, teasing your skin with their bright warmth.

A crash comes from above you, and a body falls from the horizon that you so desperately longed for. The form is small and muscled, rounded into a ball as they plummet towards your limp form.

Your eyelids widen, only from the force of the splash, as you see Honey’s body tumble towards you, his eyes wide with fear and confusion.

Your consciousness cries as you will your body to catch him, to move, to do anything. Honey whizzes past you, locking eyes with you as you outwardly stare into space. His mouth opens to make sound, but nothing comes out but bubbles of his precious oxygen. A sudden rush of a concentrated current pushes him down out of your view, out of your peripheral vision, and out of any hope you had of saving him. A sense of feeling comes back to you as you scream, unable to move as you feel his presence disappear, the red light of a tiki statue flashing behind you.

And when your mouth opens, more water files in, hungry and selfish as it not only surrounds your body, but suffocates your insides. Your lungs inflate with the chilling liquid, making your body weightless in the pools of terror, and you start to rise.

The surface tension of the water breaks as you lift out of the ocean. Water spills out of your mouth and nose as you are pulled up and up. Over the vast sea, over the jarring cliff that wasn’t in clear view before.

But now it taunts you, its sharp edges barely missing you as you rise.

As you ascend into the lighter blue of the sky, it begins to morph around you. The cerulean begins to darken into black, the crisp air becoming muddy and warped as the scene changes around you. For a moment, everything seems to pause and you are suspended in black. Then, gravity reminds you of your fragility, and you are sent slamming a firm surface.

The landing makes the wind rush out of your lungs, and white sheets billow around you. A comforter sculpts your back, and a large window shines into the room. You choke.

This is Kyoya’s bedroom at the beach home.

Panic floods into your system. Why were you in his room? Where was he? You couldn’t see him, not now, not after everything that happened today. Cursing in your mind, you move to leave this godforsaken mattress, get out of here and curl in on yourself till your broken heart heals, but your arms feel heavy.

Looking at your wrists, you see that they are pinned on either side of your head by an invisible force. Fighting against it, the force lifts for a second before your wrists are pushed down again, deeper into the mattress as it squeaks and wrinkles. And a red shirt appears in your vision.

Gnarly, curled fingers grip your skin, and you bury yourself into the bed. Ren’s eyes flare back at you, closer than he ever was. His sneer is prominent as his long hair is in shambles over his shoulders, and it only grows wider as you thrash below him.

His voice echoes in the shadowed chamber, wrapping around your throat and squeezing. “Nowhere to jump now, sweetheart.”

Your words are lost on you as fear strikes your heart, making it beat to a wilder rhythm as your body writhes. But he continues.

“You could’ve died on that cliff, you know that, girl? Thrown into raging waters? Very dangerous.”

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed.” Ren’s voice mixes with one that breaks through the shock, through the terror, and sends more panic into your veins.

In slow motion, gracefully long fingers dissolve into view. Your eyes follow as particles of pale skin form an arm that locks your wrist to the bed, and then a lithe torso comes into view as you look towards the ceiling.

The smug face of your crush, your director, your best friend appears before you, smirking with a calculating glint in his eyes that used to feel warm.

But as Kyoya pins you to the sheets, its like ice as he meets your gaze.

The floor below the bed frame isn’t stable, the mattress below you rippling like evil water as you stare up at him. Shock and dizziness make everything around you hazy except for his distasteful gaze on yours.

“Do you know that? Please tell me you’re smart enough to see it, you idiot.” There’s somehow a sense of desperate anger as Kyoya keeps you underneath him. “You were wrong. You could’ve died, and you were wrong, and now look at what you did, (Y/n).”

Your nerves say your legs are kicking, but his own pin your knees, rendering them useless. Your arms feel like they’re thrashing, but you still feel the sting of cotton surrounding your skin. Apology after apology rushes through your mind, and you open your mouth to plead with him, to cry for him, to say anything.

But you’re choking again, and a floral scent fills your lungs, causing you to freeze.

Kyoya’s cold eyes flick to your lips, and his raven brows furrow as he releases one of your wrists letting it fall heavily against the mattress. You willed it to move, but like you are drifting in the current of the ocean, you are not in control.

Coughing, something works up your throat and lands on your tongue. Kyoya’s fingers reach past your parted lips and pluck it out, bringing it into your line of sight.

A rose petal. A single, purple rose petal.

Kyoya looks at it confused, his teeth barring. “What is this? What are you doing?” Distrust engulfs his tone.

But his eyes widen as your coughing turns into wheezing, and your body is jolting as he holds you to his mattress, more petals coming up and filling your mouth, your lungs.

You're drowning, and Kyoya lets you go fully as he sits back in horror.

“Stop it. Stop it, (Y/n). Don’t do this to me.” He yells, the moonlight cascading over his sharp features that have twisted in betrayal and anger. “Don’t do this to me!”

Sitting up, you heave, the flower petals triggering an onslaught of spasming lungs as they bloom out of your mouth. Your eyes tear up, apologetic and sincere as you move to look at Kyoya again, only to scramble away in horror.

The back of your skull hits the headboard as Kyoya’s face rapidly changes. Images of his gray eyes morph into the intimidating brown of Ren’s, then the lighter ones of Haruhi’s. Tamaki, the twins, Arai, your mother, all flash on Kyoya’s neck and torso at a destabilizing pace, screaming at you to stop, to think about what you did. Looking away, you force your body to convulse, reaching a hand up to your neck to soothe the burning of thorns and petals poking into your esophagus so that you could just say sorry.

And that’s how you wake up.

Your hand around your throat, lungs burning, and Kyoya’s anger resonating through your chest.

The doors of Ouran Academy burst open, your shoes squeaking against the polished tiles and scuffing them much to the cleaning crew��s dismay.

Sending an apologetic smile their way, you stuff paper upon paper into your backpack as you dodge students left and right, weaving through the crowd of the rich and the beautiful. However, with the addition of your hurried figure, you’ve created an ink spot on a white page.

You would not describe yourself as the spitting image of beauty as you raced up the tall stairs and long, carpeted hallways of your school. You could see your peers’ eyes linger on the small shadows of purple underneath your eyes, and the untucked fabric of your uniform. Some of them bent down to pick up a few sheets of your assignments as they flew from your grasp, noting your heaving breath and panicked eyes.

Unusually, you were late.

You gave them a quick nod of gratitude before practically sprinting down the last hallway that led to Music Room #3. Your footsteps sank into the soft red carpet as you rounded a corner, but when you actually saw the sign hanging above the club room, you slowed. Stopping to rest on a pillar, you caught your breath, staring at the double doors as you heard bustling activity inside.

Every day for a week, you’ve been stopping outside the room, tracing the painted wood grain and the pink designs with your eyes for what felt like forever. For a week, your heart has constricted into knots while your fingers dug into the stone of the pillar, debating in your mind if you should even walk in.

And every day, for a week, you stepped in time with your anxious heart as a pair of purple eyes flashed behind your eyelids, begging you to just come in. And who could blame you when an image of devastating gray accompanied them.

Swallowing, you pressed your palm against the door, opening it as unceremoniously as you can, before a petite body slams into you.

“Oh, god, sorry, I just-,” Haruhi fumbles over her words as she meets your gaze before trailing off, the worry in her gaze followed by a little bit of awkwardness.

You sucked your cheek into your teeth as you made an effort to look anywhere but her, and settled on a vase of flowers poised near the entrance.

“It’s okay.” You mumble, scratching the back of your head before moving to push past her. “No worries.”

You hear a small, sharp sigh behind you, and a hand wraps around your wrist, much gentler than your nightmares. “(Y/n), wait.”

Haruhi’s calm voice makes your tingling anxiety bloom to your throat as you come to a halt. Turning over your shoulder, your smile is practiced and pristine, the muscles stretching over your lips. “Yeah?”

Her brows furrow at your soft, bright tone, your voice contrasting with your rounded shoulders. “I just…I don’t understand what’s going on.”

Your eyes freeze on hers, and your heart cracks even more.

Since you saw Haruhi lying underneath Kyoya, emotions rattled inside you like a tennis ball ricocheting off the walls of your ribs. Your anger was a bright, fleeting blip. You laid in your bed and frankly abused your pillows. You punched them, screamed into them, or threw them across the room as you tried to process Haruhi’s betrayal. You two had grown so close in such a short amount of time, and she knew you were falling for Kyoya, only to keep it a secret that she had been secretly crushing on him.

In the middle of another swing at your pillow, that thought in your mind, you froze.

She kept it a secret.

Why did she keep it a secret?

Shoulders shuddering with sandpaper breath, you sat back on your knees and faced the window looking out into the ocean.

Haruhi must’ve been harboring her own feelings, keeping them locked away while you flirted and made eyes at the boy she wanted, and she did it so easily. You watch through her eyes as you play off of Kyoya’s banter, work with him late into the night, keep him for yourself as Haruhi is pushed onto the sidelines.

A soft gust of air leaves your lips with a quiet whine, and your face curls into your palms as your spine bows. You're crying again, but for a different reason.

You cry for the friendship you two had. You cry for what it must’ve felt like for her to see you steal all of Kyoya’s time and attention and say nothing. To keep it locked away. Tears rolled for what must’ve felt like the most one-sided sisterhood of the century, and all because of a stupid boy.

Speaking of the boy.

Your anger had then reignited, and your cries turned frustrated. Digging your fingers into your next feathered victim, your punches resumed.

Now, guilt dripped into your chest, mixing with the anxiety and hurt as you stared back at her, but your smile remained true. “What do you mean?”

“Are you avoiding me?” Her voice is blunt, and you cringe internally. You loved Haruhi for being straightforward, it was refreshing from the usual antics of rich people to passively aggressively beat around a bush. But to be on the other end of it was jarring.

Clearing your throat, you look to that same vase again, a lie locked and loaded behind your teeth. “No, no, I just saw that you were leaving, and wanted to get out of your way.”

Haruhi’s eyes deadpan. “If that’s the case, you’ve been getting out of my way all week.” She put air quotes around the words. “Did I do something, Senpai? I know you might be a little…shaken by what happened on the beach, but I feel like you’ve practically tripped over yourself to get away from me lately.”

When you look back at her, you can see the concern whirling through her irises, and the faucet of guilt breaks into a steady stream.

You’ve kept her in the dark, you’ve had too. There was no way you were going to out her relationship with Kyoya without her being ready, and you couldn’t bear the embarrassment of telling her that you saw them together. Empathy floats up in your sternum at her clear confusion, and you fight to make your smile a little more real.

Sighing, you relax your arm, signaling that you weren’t going anywhere, and she releases you. “I’m not ignoring you.” You say gently. “And don’t call me Senpai, it’s weird.”

Her confusion fades into relief as you turn to her, fixing your overflowing backpack onto your shoulders. “Sorry, it’s just when you look at me like you don’t even know me, it’s hard to resist formalities.”

A lump forms in your throat when you realize that it was true. Since she has been hiding so much from you, you didn’t know her. Not as well as you thought you did.

“I’m just tired, no big deal.” Desperate to change the topic, you gesture to her outerwear, the light spring breeze forcing students to wear their light jackets. “Where are you off too?”

“Hikaru and Kaoru asked me to get more instant coffee from the store.” She grumbled, and you almost laughed at the disdain that passed over her face. “I still don’t understand why they can’t go get it themselves.”

“Well, it’s nice of you to help them out.” Turning over your shoulder, you see the two red-haired boys talking jovially with some other guests, chests shaking with gentle laughter. “They seem to be having a good time, thanks to you.”

Haruhi curls an eyebrow. “Thanks to me?”

Sighing, you turn back to her, trying to force yourself through the conversation so that it doesn’t look like you’re avoiding her even though you are, and it’s very complicated and annoying and you hate it.

But a softness comes to your face as you speak. “I haven’t known the twins for as long as some of the others, but I know that they weren’t always this warm and friendly.” A flashback of the boys in a corner reading the same book comes to your mind before you push it away.

“They were quiet, withdrawn, and didn’t have many friends. I worked for a long time to build the trust that we have together, but it was instant between the three of you. It really pulled them out of their shell, little by little.”

You watch Haruhi’s eyes pass behind you as she watches the twins, a thoughtful look on her face. A shot of adoration for her spikes through you instinctually at the fact that she truly didn’t know how much she has impacted the host club in the time she has been here. It makes you want to hug her with all your strength. Tamaki must be rubbing off on you.

But then the image of her looking up at Kyoya as he straddles her replaces that warmth with chilling dread.

“I never really noticed.” She said plainly, shrugging her shoulders.

A reluctant smile formed on your features. “They can sneak up on you.”

Silence falls between you as the rumble of host club chatter fills the space, and the awkwardness rears its ugly head.

“Are you sure we’re okay?” Sincerity spills through her, and it’s all you can do not to cry again.

“We’re fine. And if it seems like we’re not, it’s not you, it’s me.” Partly true, in a way. You jab a thumb over your shoulder, needing to leave the tense air. “I’ll see you in there.”

Turning over your shoulder, your eyes immediately fall onto a lithe waist dressed in a lavender jacket. Arms fold protectively around his blackbook as Kyoya’s attention floods into his calculations, but it’s as if you can feel your eyes on you as he meets your gaze out of the corner of his glasses.

A whole switchboard of emotions alights in your body at the indifference in his eyes as he quickly retreats into his writing again. Blowing out a breath, you spin and walk right past Haruhi. “You know what? I’ll grab the coffee. Be right back.”

This time when you walk across your campus, it’s a slow, deliberate stroll. A paper grocery bag is pressed against your chest as you get lost in your thoughts.

You and Kyoya hadn’t spoken since that day on the beach. Anytime you were around each other, it was terrible and tense. You used to fidget, pacing back and forth in your mind on whether you should say something, anything to him to tell him how you feel, but eventually you didn’t have the energy to be anxious.

The betrayal you felt from Haruhi immediately changed into guilt when you realized what it must’ve been like to keep her true feelings from you. With him, your anger and heartbreak slightly dulled into a constant pressure, always reminding you that at the first sign of trouble between the two of you, Kyoya turned to someone else.

Kyoya had once called you a child for ignoring him after the whole incident with Renge, and yet he has justified himself enough to do the same thing. He’s been quiet, cold, turned off from anything that you had to say that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

But he never made himself scarce. Kyoya wasn’t avoiding you by any means. In fact, he seemed to be anywhere you turned, always giving you ample opportunity to get on your knees and grovel for his forgiveness, as if he was above all this.

As if he hadn’t done anything to rip your heart in two.

Now fuming internally, you decided to wait it out. The two of you were exceptionally stubborn people who were skilled at compacting your emotions into a tight star, ready to burst at any moment.

You decided to see which one of you would be the first to set off a supernova.

The whole situation felt off, and you had no idea why. You never pegged Kyoya as the kind of guy to be so physical with someone he had relatively just met. The glancing touches and the near-kiss instances that you two shared felt special to you, as if you had gained his trust enough to reach a level with him that almost no one else has.

You sighed, blinking back the image of him straddling her waist. Guess it was just another testament to how hard they had fallen for one another.

In your pity party, you didn’t see a rogue banana peel being thrown into your path, and soon the ground is yanked out from under you as you fall backwards.

Limber, strong arms wrap around your shoulders as you tip backwards, and after closing your eyes expecting an impact, you open them to see green eyes staring back at you.

Chest heaving in surprise, you freeze in the strangers arms. Their presence is familiar in a way.

The stranger gets closer, and you realize that despite her more masculine facial structure, it’s a girl that has saved you from falling on your ass.

She poses, dipping you more into her embrace as her smooth, timber voice rolls over your ears. “It’d be a shame for any harm to come to that cute face of yours young lady.”

The startled look in your eye plateaus as you bite your cheek, and you groan internally. This new student steadies you and offers gallantly to walk you back to your glass, and you realize why her energy was so recognizable.

She’s exactly like Tamaki.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Benibara says, keeping her arm firm around your shoulders as she escorts you through the halls of your school.

Wiggling in her hold, your jaw ticked as you tried to force a polite smile. “Really, I am. You don’t have to walk me to class, I’m sure your school is dying to get set up for the cultural exposition.”

Benibara, who confidently introduced herself as the president of the Zuka Club as Lobelia Girls’ Academy, tsks and looks at you with a sultry gleam. “Don’t be silly, (Y/n). Let me make sure you get there safely.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, but follow her anyway. If Kyoya didn’t already want to kill you, he certainly would if you were rude to a student from another school. Not to mention you were in uniform, so they would know exactly where the rude girl belonged.

Her red skirt and white blouse flowed gently around the corner, and you unintentionally froze again as Music Room #3 came into view. Tall, gorgeous Benio turned over her shoulder, her gaze becoming sharp.

“You know, (Y/n), when I asked if you were alright, I wasn’t necessarily talking about your fall.”

You suck in a sharp breath and flick your gaze right back to hers, her eyes looking at you with a deep understanding that almost knocks you off your feet.

And then it annoys you. “I’m fine.” The words are practiced. This is what you’ve been telling yourself on repeat, after all.

“Are you, now? Think you’re above a hard day here and there?” Benio chuckles deeply in her chest before reaching a hand out to graze your cheekbones. “Come now, little sakura, tell me.”

But you pull your face away from her touch, rolling your eyes again as your irritation motivates you to push past her. You almost make it to the club’s door, hearing voices from inside.

“...a little harsh? Fine then, what do you think women want to hear?” Tamaki’s muffled voice floats out into the hallway. Another sigh rolls through you as the topic of their current conversation already feels too intense for your emotional state.

But you don’t have time to open the door yourself as Benibara pulls you back against her from your waist. You feel a bony chest at your back as she seems to levitate towards the club door, her arm firmly wrapped around you as she bursts through it.

Her feminine baritone fills the air of the Music Room. “Maybe something like…” You squeak as you feel her breath on your ear. “I would never leave my lover alone.”

“What the f–?” Your confusion is cut off but also flamed when the arm around your waist pulls, spinning your 360 degrees before you're caught in a dip by her toned arms.

Benio’s lips curl into a smirk as her voice holds a fantastical tone that causes your mind to fog a little. “If we fight, it will be together. If we fail, we fail together.”

Again, you’re whisked to another position. This time your arm is stretched out and Benio is on one knee before you, your palm in hers as she brings it to touch her lips. “Even if I were to die, I promise you that I will never leave your side, my love.”

Your eyebrow twitches for a moment, a blush deepening on your cheeks. Looking to the side, you see your host club dressed as knights, armor shining dramatically in the natural light from the windows, and you sigh, eyeing their protective costumes.

You could’ve been wearing armor against this girl too if you hadn’t left to go run errands.

The idiotic trio’s mouths fall open as you are spun and held against another student, and Tamaki’s eyes seem to bloom to twice their size. You see two other girls in uniforms similar to Benibara’s run up to her with large, adoring smiles on their faces.

“Benibara! We thought you’d never show!” One of them says, her short hair bouncing with her movements.

Another taller girl with a deeper voice and longer hair strides to Benio’s otherside, giving you a long look. “What’re we going to do with you? So, tell us where you found this lovely lady.”

All three women are looking at you with an interest that you’ve only seen from your guests, and you feel a headache coming on. Not just because they were staring at you with a protective interest that you’ve only seen from your guests, but also because they were so goddamn beautiful.

What kind of blood oath did you have to make to get their bone structure?

Benio’s chuckle rang close to your ears as she stood, still holding your hand. “I just met her outside of the school. She may look plain, but I knew the truth to her beauty. She has such gorgeous eyes.” The taller woman leans in, her lithe finger gracing your cheekbones as she stares deeply into your irises.

Wincing, you turn your face away from her as you back up, only to run into the shorter, peppier one.

Her high voice exclaims an excited gasp as her fingers dip under your sleeve, forcing the fabric of your lavender coat up to feel the soft skin underneath.

Your jaw clenches as she forcefully takes your hand, your annoyance building. “Wow, her skin is incredibly soft!”

“Could you not?” You ask softly yet firmly, but it’s overshadowed as the third student kneels in front of you, running her hand over your bare thigh and calf with amazement.

Her hand runs over your healing cut, the band aid with hearts still attached to your skin. “Isn’t it though?” She marvels as her fingers prod over your leg. “I think we found a diamond in the rough!”

Seeing her hand pass over your cut ignites a sharp reaction from you, and you push all three women off, ripping your limbs away from their grasp. “Would you all stop? God, ever heard of personal space?”

Your shoulders heave in the middle of the club room as the women stare you down, their eyes wide in amazement. Looking past them, you see the boys watching you tentatively, knowing where your outburst is coming from.

But then Benio’s mouth curves down, not from disappointment, but in sympathy. Her long legs make their way over to you slowly, and her hand reaches towards you, an olive branch.

“You’ve been hurt, yes?”

Her words spill over you like ice water, and a shot of embarrassment pierces through your chest. Was it that obvious?

“What?”

“Someone hasn’t treated you well. Someone hurt you.” That same understanding from before shades into her pupils, and it takes everything in you not to retreat from her form. She studies the way that you roll your shoulders with a conjured formidability that had to have been practiced and reconsiders her words. “Or maybe, people hurt you.”

Her bluntness is laced with caramel-like kindness that completely blows the wind out of you. You just stare at her for a long minute, not knowing what to say as she comes closer and closer, cautiously stepping towards the deer in the headlights.

This time when her hand finds your face, you don’t pull away. She hums in pity, tapping her finger under your chin. “Ladies, this princess is suffering. Trapped in a place where she is underappreciated and lost.”

Their eyes swim with tears with the grace of a celebrity on screen, gorgeous eyes glistening with the moisture. They whine to you as they immediately embrace you again, two pairs of arms coming around your waist.

“It’s such a shame!” Leaning their heads into your shoulder, their cries dampen the intensity of the moment, and your annoyance rises again to a dull buzz.

Your face falls flat as they fret over you, but you let them. If it’ll get them to leave faster, so be it.

But Tamaki couldn’t stand it for another second.

The host club has stood back long enough and watched you run yourself into the ground. Most of them have done all they could think of. Hikaru and Kaoru try to make you laugh, and sometimes it works. Sometimes you’re doubled over, clutching your sides while trying to catch your breath and the twins think that the storm has finally passed. But the next day, you’ll kindly shake your head and walk away, leaving them lost on what to do next.

Mori and Honey have been feeding you, making sure that you’ve eaten lunch when you are scheduled too, and sending you with plenty of sweet treats and things they know you enjoy before you leave school for the day. Even after Mori had offered their dojo to you, you still had yet to show up, and that was worrying. The cousins thought it was because it was hard to bring yourself out of bed in the morning.

Tamaki and Haruhi showered you with attention when you allowed it. You did sometimes, but mostly from Tamaki. His heart sputtered in confusion when you would turn your gaze away from his brunette honor student, but he figured it was just because she reminded you of that day on the cliff. The blonde was constantly at your side. During class, club hours, any time you didn’t completely shove him off gave him an opportunity to show him that he was there for you.

As his purple eyes watched your blank expression while foreign hands touched you, his eyes shot to Kyoya, a dramatic glare in his gaze. Kyoya felt his best friend’s eyes on him and met his stare before rolling his eyes behind his glasses.

The blonde saw Kyoya’s Adam's apple bob for a second, and he knew that the Ootori son was holding himself back. Tamaki groaned internally as Kyoya kept up the same facade he’s been portraying for the past week. The facade of disinterest.

And frankly, Tamaki had had enough.

Another flare of irritation fired into the prince’s chest as Kyoya simply shook his head slightly, stubbornly folding his arms across his waist. But when Tamaki studied him closely, he caught the sharp way Kyoya’s eyes narrowed at the way this tall woman was cradling your face.

Tamaki huffed when he realized Kyoya still wasn’t going to do anything and immediately rushed forward, wanting to save you like he always does.

“Don’t you go touching mon ami without asking my permission!” He yelled, reaching towards your form with a protective urge.

But you watched as a fist connected to Tamaki’s pristine features, and your jaw dropped as Benio sent him flying, the other two women wrapping their arms tighter around you. Your prince’s blonde hair whips with the force as he is sent flying back towards the other hosts.

He lands on his butt with a whine, and his hand comes up to his cheek. “She punched me! So violent!”

Honey-senpai scolds him as Tamaki sprawls on the ground, holding Usa-chan in his grasp. “Pull yourself together!”

Finally, the female trio lets go of you as they put themselves between you and the host club. A sigh rolled out of your lungs, and you watched two dramatic forces clash together like swords. Beni stands, her long form towering over Tamaki after knocking him to his feet.

“Guess the rumors we heard are true.” She speaks, utter confidence lacing her tone. “You guys are just a bunch of weak little punks with no sense between you.”

A distinct sigh passes over the host club, one that topples another rock onto the stone pile in your stomach.

“These uniforms.” Kyoya’s voice is cold, precise as he pushes his glasses onto his nose. “I assume you ladies are from Lobelia Girls’ Academy?”

Benibara’s hair swishes as she twirls, her attention completely lost to you. Another smug grin traces her lips as she strikes another pose, her hand poised just so. “That’s correct.”

Flashes of color and cloth pass by your vision as the three girls rip off their uniforms, revealing extravagant costumes underneath. Bouncy skirts fall to the pink tiles from the waist of the taller girl, the shorter one sporting something pink that went to mid-thigh. Beni rises in a tux, perfectly tailored to her slim figure. It seems like spotlights shine down on them as they pop up from their poses one by one, glitter in their irises.

“Lobelia~” Benibara stands, a baritone note rising from her lips.

“Lobelia~” An alto sound follows as the middle-height blonde rises, her toes pointed and chin lifted in the air.

“Lobelia~” Soprano fills your ears as the last one sings, her arms stretched out as she picks one leg up.

You stared at them incredulously, confusion and a little bit of admiration in your thoughts as they harmonized. How many times had they rehearsed this? When did they rehearse this?

…Did the host club need a theme song too?

Your thoughts were interrupted when Benibara pulled out a flower and you realized, Oh…it wasn’t over.

“St. Lobelia Academy, high school 2nd year, Benio Amakuska.” She said as she passed in front of you, placing a lily in your hands before posing again. “Lady of the Crimson Rose, A.K.A Benibara.”

You stopped the rude scoff bubbling into your throat. God, they even had nicknames? The blonde steered toward you, her walk graceful as the blue dress flowed at her ankles. “2nd year student, Chizuru Maihara.” Chizuru’s right hand unfurls a small fan as her left places another lily in your hands.

Lastly, the shortest one twirls, placing the last lilly into your hand before posing next to her friends. “1st year student, Hinako Tsuwabuki!”

“We are the members of the St. Lobelia Academy’s White Lilly League.” Beni said, posing her top hat in front of her face with a flirtatious grace. “Also known as…!” Sending her hat into the air with pizazz, the three girls twirl, the arms opening so wide that you have to make your way over next to Hikaru and Kaoru to give them more room.

They spin with so much force that the petals on their lilies fall off the flower and are sent around the room, twisting in a flurry as they cover the girls. When the flowers dissipate, the Lobelia students have somehow changed outfits again, poofy dresses and intricate fanned headdresses adorning their heads. Their hands are outstretched, large smiles on their faces as they fall into a final pose.

“The Zuka Club!”

Blinking slowly, you close your agape mouth. The silence in the club room lengthens, before you and your twins could no longer hold it in anymore.

Deep chuckles expel from your chest as you wheeze, tears quickly filling your eyes as you drop to the floor. Hikaru and Kaoru are quick behind you, their backs arching as Hikaru slaps the floor with each bellow of his laughter, trying to catch his breath.

“The Zuka Club?! Oh man, what a stupid name! My stomach hurts!”

Kaoru can barely agree with his brother, his voice cracking with an effort to breathe. “The Zuka Club?! That’s priceless!”

“They-They had those get ups under their uniforms!” You shout, clutching your side as you lean on Kaoru’s shoulder.

You three continue to bellow, and it feels like old times for a moment. The ease of being around the host club returns into your bones like muscle memory, and it felt like nothing had changed for you.

But then the ground begins to tremble, machine’s whirring in a dark, unknown place. Your laughter halts, and as your gaze follows the tiered platform as it rises from the polished tiles of Music Room #3, you sigh, your mood rotting the peacefulness you felt.

“You shouldn’t underestimate the Zuka Club!”

A certain brunette sits atop this tier, a tea cup perfectly placed in her hand, her fingers bringing it to her lips. She seemed almost serene atop a patio chair and table, an umbrella shading her from the artificial ceiling light.

And then she spoke.

“I may not know much about instant coffee, but I am fascinated with girls’ schools.” Renge’s voice fills the club room, and you pinch the bridge of your nose. You wonder who else will come into this room and play with the frayed edges of your patience?

She takes a sip out of her cup before spitting it out immediately, instant coffee splattering down onto the second tier of her platform. “St. Lobelia Academy! It is truly a woman’s world there!” Renge stands, and she gets that distant, dreamy look in her eye you’ve seen too many times before. Despite the perfectly good table in front of her, Renge discards her tea cup and saucer to the floor, the porcelain crashing with an annoying clang.

“The Zuka Club is a group of young maidens who consider women to be superior in every way! The club prides itself on it’s 30 year history. It’s a society of maidens, by maidens, for maidens! Their activities include maiden tea parties, debate forums, and the musical reviews performed by their top members.”

Glancing over to Benibara, you see a satisfied smile on her face, pride gleaming in her green irises as she watches Renge recount her successes. You can see how people follow her so easily. She makes you want to be apart of that feeling of comfort, of accomplishment.

“Well.” A clang of armor sounds against a desk, and you tense your shoulders. Slowly following the gaze of the crowd, you watch as Kyoya fixes his tie onto his button down. During Renge’s speech, the men had switched out of the knight costumes with a speed that is only achieved through years of practice. Or in this case, weeks.

You let your eyes catch a glimpse of his sharp jawline before you direct them to the floor again. It was too hard.

Kyoya cleared his throat, his voice resonating. “You sure have a vast world of knowledge, Renge.”

The brunette laughs, flicking a hand at the director. “Well, I’ve always admired Lobelia Academy. I just couldn’t go to school there, though.” She put her hands on her cheeks as if she was facing her worst nightmare. “Just what would I do without any boys?”

With that, she descended into the floor, waiting like a jack in the box under the tile; to spring up when least expected.

Chizuru places her hands together, the tips of her delicate fingers tracing her lips. “A maiden’s beauty.” Her voice was soft but determined, as if passing on a valuable piece of information. “It means possessing a spirit pure enough to not give in to power or to lust.”

Hinako’s bobbed hair bounces up to the side of her friend as they face the host club together. “As a girl, you…for a girl, you…! We’ve had quite enough of all your oppressive male contempt for womenkind.

“And our pride,” Beni’s baritone floats through the room, vibrating lightly against the host’s club’s windows. “It comes from having meaningful relationships based on equality.” Beni holds her hands out to the two other girls, and they cuddle into her side. It would’ve been sweet if there wasn’t a migraine blossoming it’s way to the front of your skull.

“Because we are the same sex, and yes, that means relationships of love.” A mischievous sparkle floats in her eye that confuses you. Does this woman think she invented lesbianism?

Shrugging, you sigh, turning your back and stepping away from the chaos, mumbling a small ‘whatever floats your boat’ as you cross the ever spacious club room.

You catch a glimpse of blonde hair and a hunched lavender form at one of the windowsills, and you make your appearance at Tamaki’s side.

“Tamaki?” You ask, reaching your hand out to touch his shoulder, only to find it shaking. “What’s going on with you?”

He looks to you, eyes wide, his purple pupils shrunken to violet dots. “Th-these girls! They’re talking nonsense!”

You laugh slightly, putting both of your hands on his shoulders and massaging them. “I think they are just trying to scare you.”

“Well, it’s working!” His voice carries, but you turn to find that the host club is too preoccupied with the Zuka Club to notice. “Who does this girl think she is anyway, huh? Touching you like that? Saying these…these…words that I can’t bear to hear!”

“Tamaki, Tamaki…” You say softly, a fond amusement warming your smile. “Just chill for a second, okay? I think you might be having a bit of a culture shock.”

“Culture shock?!” His wide-eyed attention locks on you, and he brings his voice down to a hiss. “What’s that?”

“How about we just lay down, yeah?” You suggest through a giggle. Putting his arm through yours, you lead him to the bed that Honey-senpai uses for his naps. Pulling back the baby blue comforter, you sit him on the edge of the bed. You flip the pillow over onto it’s cool side, and Tamaki immediately realizes how much his outburst took out of him. Sleepy, violet gems become hooded as he looks up at you from his restful cloud.

“This is not how it’s supposed to go.”

Still humored, you tilt your head, playing along. “And how is it supposed to go, exactly?”

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around.”

Your heart drops, your chest heaving with a sigh. Flashes of Tamaki greeting you at the door of the music room, a little bit too eager and standing a little too close play in your mind.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you pat him on the head, turning on your heel to leave him to rest. “We can take care of each other.”

Rejoining the rest of the club, you sink into the red couch as the Zuka Club continues to brag about their progressive ways, making you swallow another scoff.

The host club wasn’t listening to them either. Honey and Usa-chan watched Mori practice his sword skills, while Kaoru fiddles with the groceries you had brought back. Your eyes travel over Hikaru’s shoulder as he plays on his DS, Mario bouncing across the screen.

A shadow casts on the other side of the couch, Kyoya’s spine curled around his book. Your curiosity catches a page that was filled with writing, but blank in the edges. No spirals.

Hikaru interrupts the Zuka Club’s ramblings, his bored tone piercing their flirty air. “Whatever. Honestly, we are so over it.” He leans back, his shoulder brushing with yours as he props his feet up on the table, his gaze never leaving the game.

Kaoru examines another thing of instant coffee from the brown paper bag, his tone, like most of his mannerisms, mirroring his brother’s. “What don’t you gals just scram?”

The Zuka Club stands there stuttering at their rudeness, and your gaze flicks to Benibara’s, her eyes suspiciously watching the six of you.

But Hinako huffs, a haughty tone lacing her words. “I find it hard to believe that you silly boys have nothing to say about our sublime female love.”

But Hikaru just leaned towards you, speaking out of the side of his mouth without breaking his attention from his game. “What the hell is she even talking about?”

A giggle caught behind your lips, and Kaoru continued to show disinterest, facing towards you and showing you the label. “I’ve never seen this brand before, it’s clear (Y/n) bought the groceries this time around.”

This time, a scoff left your lips, and you picked up a throw pillow and chucked it at his head.

The blonde Zuka member rolled her eyes, pitifully sighing as she caressed Beni’s cheek. “You should feel sorry for them, Benio. Now they are all flustered, and they don’t know what to do with themselves!”

Benibara just nodded gravely before another smirk lit up her lips. “True, though I must say that I’m glad we decided to perform here. It was fun to sneak a peek at the notorious host club.”

Honey perked up at that, swinging his legs off the edge of the couch as he looked at his cousin. “Hey, are we really notorious?”

Mori swings his sword before gracefully setting it onto his shoulder. “Yeah.”

Someone yawned.

Benibara huffed, the lack of attention drawing irritation from her gut as she quickly scooped forward, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards her again. She holds your arm up around her shoulders, her other hand lightly cradling her chin. Your jaw sets.

“And to think, they’re dragging this sweet, young girl down with them.”

“I told you, I’m fine.” You argued, your voice steely and taut.

But she ignores you, pushing you away. As you stumble out of her grasp, you straighten your uniform, watching as she basks at the hosts’ attention once again now that she had grabbed you. You were only a means to an end.

“Well, the host club’s president may be a pretty little halfer, but he shouldn’t be using his looks to create a fictitious romance!”

Another flare of annoyance sparks at her words, and you take a step toward her. “Don’t call him that.”

But she ignores you, relishing in the rising of emotion. Much better than the clear, piercing boredom. “Oh, attempting to fool the heart of a poor maiden is demeaning! Your so-called club activities are nothing more than debasing macho fantasies! I promise you, we will bring you guys down, the Ouran Host club will be abolished!”

You stopped in your tracks, the tiles on the floor almost seeming like glue traps, your black dress shoes wanting to sink and never budge.

Abolish the host club? For what, creating fun little scenes?

You had never thought that your club was playing with the hearts of the boys and girls at this school. You thought they relished in the attention, the fantasy. But your mind rushed to the sweet girl who had kissed your cheek, hope in her eyes.

And now you were one of the maidens, your foolish heart in the hands of a raven-haired puppeteer.

Is this what you made your guests feel like?

“I see.” As if someone had whispered your thoughts in his ear, Kyoya closed his book, the leather-bound pages snapping closed as he pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose. His voice fell into a practiced politeness, but his eyes flared. “I understand your concern. But do you think that maybe we could finish this later?”

Beni’s chest puffed, her voice challenging the words of the megane, twisting them. “Are you saying that you’re not going to face us?”

The edge of Kyoya’s lips twitched, and he met her gaze. “Not at all.”

His pale hand gestures to where Tamaki still slept, his face exhausted and weary as he mumbles in his dreams.

“It’s just that our president is still bed-ridden from his initial culture-shock.”

You wanted to ask him how he knew that, but you knew the answer. Kyoya was always observing.

Honey giggles, having no problem with his nap spot being used. “You see, Tama-chan is having his nappy right now.”

Benibara clenches her fist at her sides. “Then wake him up!” She yells, and you fume. No matter how much she has shaken your day today, no one needed to interfere with Tamaki.

Your feet unstuck themselves, but before you could give her a piece of your mind, Haruhi appeared in front of you, a full tray in her hands. The honor student shot a glance back at you, a look telling you she could handle this, and placed a sweet smile on her lips.

“‘Scuse me, I just made some coffee.” She offers, her face calming and nurturing. “Would you ladies like to have some?”

The tall, handsome girl looked like she was about to faint with gratitude, and her sour mood lightened immediately. “Why yes, aren’t you the sweetest thing?”

The three of them smile at Haruhi as they take their respective tea cups, complimenting her whole-heartedly.

“You know, coffee made by a maiden always has a more fragrant aroma.”

Haruhi’s hands tighten on the tray, her surprise mirroring the rest of the host club’s when Benibara confirms Haruhi’s sex.

“What? Wait a minute…” You begin to stutter, the other hosts frozen instantly without knowing what to say.

The flirty Lobelia student just scoffs, soaking in the scent of the coffee as she dismisses you immediately. “Oh please, don’t try to hide it. She may be dressed as one of these boys, but I knew the truth. What kind of lover would I be if I didn’t appreciate and recognize the beauty of my own sex? And the way they make their coffee.” She serenades, winking at Haruhi over the edge of her tea cup.

“But, uh…” Haruhi starts, her brain reconnecting its wires. “This stuff’s just instant.”

Hinako just coos, walking towards Haruhi and twirling her hair. “How about we all have a tea party?” She asks, smiling your way.

“You’ve got it all wrong!” The entire room jolts when Tamaki bursts out of his bed, his teeth baring as his eyes zero in on Hinako’s finger tangled in Haruhi’s locks. “Don’t you see that our host club isn’t what you think it is? We give them hope! Love! Fantasy from their daily routine!” He stomped over, almost running as he crossed the pink floor.

“If we really were stooping as low as you believe, then why do people keep coming back?!” He cries, his arm jutting out to rip Hinako away from his precious honor student, but his momentum didn’t carry him that far. Instead, somehow, with impressive accuracy, his bare finger lands smack dab in the center of Hinako’s tea cup, dipping into the boiling coffee.

“Hot! Hot, hot, hot!” Tamaki staggers backwards, wagging his finger before he trips over himself and falls, ungracefully, to the floor.

Haruhi’s eyes widen, and she quickly hands the tray over to you before crossing the room. Before you can blink, Haruhi is kneeling in front of Tamaki, rummaging through her school jacket before she is taking a thing of bandages from her coat.

“You have to be more careful, Senpai.” She sighs, her eyebrow creasing slightly as she holds out her hand for his.

Tamaki blinks slightly, a slight blush rising to his cheeks. Slowly, he places his hands in hers. Her fingers work gently, spiraling the bandage around his finger, her brown eyes concentrated on healing the burn.

So she may not notice, but you do when Tamaki’s gaze trails over her soft features for a millisecond longer than you might expect him too.

You swallow, focusing on the shining porcelain on your tray, your reflection warped against the tea kettle. There was a time when you looked at someone like that, and had thought they had seen you similarly.

“Thanks, Haruhi.” Tamaki says, his voice soft. You look up to see him staring at his finger, the pair kneeling next to each other. “Do you always carry bandages around with you?”

Haruhi just shakes her head, simpering at him with a smile that makes his eyes drop to her lips before flicking back to her gaze. “Nah, the supermarket gives them out for free with the purchase of instant coffee. I got them when I went yesterday.” She tilts her head just so, and you watch the blush darken on Tamaki’s cheeks. “You always get free stuff at the supermarket.”

“Free stuff?” His voice is drifting, clearly lost in some other thought that didn’t include any bandages.

A deeper voice ruins their moment, and your hands grasp tightly on the tray. “Well, this conversation isn’t going anywhere.”

With gusto, Beni raises Haruhi to her feet, making Tamaki gasp and almost reach out for her.

Almost.

Two arms encircle your waist as another pair relieves the tray from your grasp, and you are tugged into a group hug with the Lobelia girls and Haruhi. Their arms drape over your shoulders as you're pressed into the blonde’s chest, Hinako leaning against your arm.

“Now that we know what is going on,” Beni announces, her hand wrapped neatly over Haruhi’s waist as she presses the honor student to her chest, “We can’t allow these maidens to stay here! We will prepare their paperwork and have them transferred to Lobelia at once! And, we’ll welcome them to the Zuka Club!”

You gasp against Chizuru’s chest, before breaking away from the group. Stumbling, you shake your head.

Keeping your composure was trying, your voice shaking as you reminded yourself to keep up appearances. Your wits were already worn, your headache growing exponentially at these girls’ antics. But you swallowed, shaking your head and willing the social training you had experienced your entire life.

“Listen, I understand that you are trying to help here, I do. But the way you are going about it is abrasive, assuming, and quite frankly, ignorant.” The three girls tensed at your tone, Beni folding her arms. Your anger from the past few days simmers into an urge to put yourself on a pedestal, to stand as if you’re better than them in every way.

Your posture straightens, but right before you are about to give them a piece of your mind, Haruhi interrupts, standing in front of you.

“Just, everyone wait a second, okay?” Haruhi reconciles, her hands waving in a peaceful gesture. “I think there may be some misunderstandings here. I mean, first of all, you called Senpai a halfer!” She says, giggling.

You step forward, peeking out from behind her shoulder. “Cause he is. Even though the term is outdated,” You spit, sharply looking at Benibara, “Tamaki is half-french and half-japanese.”

Haruhi stutters, trying to correct herself. “Well, uh, I don’t think it’s fair to pick on the host club just because they might not have the same history as you!” She claims innocently, and you deadpan.

“Actually,” You wince. “We barely have any history, we were just founded two years ago when Tamaki started the club when he started high school.”

The honor student’s shoulder’s slump, and her head lolls to the side. “Be that as it may, saying their club activities are just held to satisfy their appetites is wrong. I mean, we don’t even charge them.”

You plant your face in your hands. “Oh no, Haruhi…”

“While I wouldn’t call it a charge, we do have a point system.” You all turn to see Kyoya leaning casually against one of the tables of the Music Room, his laptop sat on top as he pulls up a website.

Haruhi’s eyebrow creases, and you lead her to the laptop. “We offer a kind of priority service,” you explain, moving to the other side of the laptop and presenting it. “They are based on the winning bids of auctions held on our website.”

Kyoya hums. “Check this out, Haruhi. Your mechanical pencil just sold for a winning bid of 30,000 yen.” He smiles back at her, the fake one that stretches his thin lips. “Good for you.”

You nod curtly, trying to read Haruhi’s shocked expression as you move to close out of the window on the laptop, but Kyoya had the same plan. Your fingers brush his on the same button, and both of your gazes sharply meet, snapping like a rubber band.

And suddenly, you’re back.

Back to when you were Kyoya’s right-hand man, back to the study sessions in your room, the moments on moonlit piano benches. The dances, the cherry blossom trees, late-night phone calls, and the sunset-colored glances and grazes. It takes everything in you to swallow the ball of sunshine that engulfs your sternum, and remind yourself of the darkness you had seen. And the shapes in that darkness.

He’s the one that breaks eye contact first, and that’s when that darkness turns to ice, settling deep into your stomach.

Before you could take your own hand off the keyboard, Haruhi rushed forward, rattling off complaints.

“I thought I had lost that pencil!” She whines as she scrolls through the items up for sale. She looks up at you. “Why didn’t you tell me this before? I didn’t know you were collecting money.”

“To be fair”, You shrug, putting on your best ‘I-swear-I’m-more-innocent-than-you-think-I-am’ face, “I don’t choose what goes on the site. That is the director’s job.”

Kyoya scoffs, fixing his glasses with a sharper shove than normal when Haruhi’s accusing gaze lands on him. “What, you expect us all to work as volunteers?”

More gently, you try to explain. “While it’s not much, our club makes a small profit off of these auctions.”

“Oh, really? You’re okay with this?” Haruhi asks, huffing as she continues scrolling.

“Okay with it is a stretch, but it isn’t the worst thing-”

“Then look at this.” Her finger freezes on the mouse pad and flips it around, shoving the computer in your direction before folding her arms across her chest.

Leaning in, you gasp, the pixelated image forming the last thing you thought you would see on that site.

Four pictures were being sold as a bundle, two you had unfortunately seen before, and two others that shoved your heart into your throat.

Two of them were the pictures that had been offered as the prize for the Scare Challenge on the beach, your drool and your middle-school Ice Bucket fail had been put up for the world to see.

But the other two were more intimate. A sparkling blue dress dressed your figure as the twins hurried around you, sparkles in their eyes. And another where you had lifted the camera with a cheesy smile, catching Kyoya off guard after being enlisted as the club’s private photographer.

Only one person had access to these photos anymore, since you had wiped them from all other accounts.

“Kyoya…” Your voice was chilled and rough, this was the first time you had said his name in days. “What…why are these on here?”

There was silence on his end, causing you to flick your eyelids up to see him completely ignoring you and writing something in his notebook.

“Kyoya.” You try again, more firmly. Spinning the computer his way, you enhance the image. “What the hell are these doing here?”

Still no response. He instead flips a page and begins walking around the table the computer is perched on and out of your path.

But you stop him.

Your frustration flames and you’re in front of him in minutes, ripping his book from his fingers. That gets his attention.

His eyes meet yours for the first time in what feels like centuries, and apparently that time had erased any warmth those eyes once held for you. Now, his gaze is piercing, the gray that used to represent a calm fog sculpted into a thunderstorm.

“Give it back, (Y/n).” Even the way he said your name was strained, every syllable stretched and unnatural.

“Not until I get an answer.” With his journal tucked neatly to your side, you harshly point to the computer screen. “Why are those pictures on there? You know those are not meant to be public. They were just for you.”

“They’re optimal items to sell. Anything that can humanize our hosts is extremely valuable to our guests, which I shouldn’t have to explain to you.” The muscles in jaw pulses, and you heave a breath at the superiority in his voice.

“You were the only person with those copies, and I asked you to never share those with anyone. You knew how embarrassing, how personal my life can be, and you said you would keep them to yourself. You promised-”

“I never promised anything.”

“Please.” You rolled your eyes. “You were so proud to have those pictures, and you just gave them away like that? What were you thinking?”

“I no longer have a reason to keep those pictures in my possession. They were taking up space in my books, and I needed to make room.”

You scoffed, emotion blocking your larynx. “For what?”

“For more important matters.”

The room was so quiet, you were sure everyone heard your heart break.

Your grip on the leather material of his black booklet tightened, and your chest stuttered. But you held your ground. Once again, you knew that if you let your emotions take over, they would never stop, and you just had to get yourself together. Yanking the booklet from under your arm, you slammed it so hard into his chest as you walked past him, you heard him grunt as he caught his balance.

“Hope it was worth it.” You breathed, willing your voice not to crack.

You stormed towards the entrance, only to be blocked by glowing blonde hair.

“Oh, you poor thing. I can’t believe they’ve been deceiving you.” Chizuru whines, sympathy potent in her voice as she wraps her form around you.

Before you can snap at her, Beniobara comes around and pulls her off of you, her strong hands on the younger one’s shoulders. “Give her a moment, Chizuru, both of these young maidens have had quite a day.”

Benio leads the three of her girls towards the doors, which blow open dramatically on their own somehow. “We will give you both some time to think about it, and will be back tomorrow for your answer. Adieu, Host Club.” Waving with the grace of a queen, the Zuka Club disappears around the corner, leaving the aftermath of their intrusion unattended.

The safety of the hallway is too tempting this time, and your feet make their way towards your exit before you can even think twice.

“Wait, (N/n)-chan-” Honey’s voice calls for you, but you just call over your shoulder.

“I have to go. I have some thinking to do.” You say, voice low but reinforced as it echoes across the pink walls of the host club.

The host's watch with concerned gazes as your figure disappears, Haruhi’s lips settling into a line.

“Yeah, I better head out too.” She says, but Tamaki’s hand shoots out to grab her shoulder.

“Wait, Haruhi, we’re sorry! It’s not like we were hiding it from you, you can have my pencil!” He whines, and he holds out his own mechanical pencil, a small teddy bear taking the place of the eraser.

“I don’t want your pencil, Senpai. You boys can’t just go doing whatever you want, whenever you feel like it.” She says, turning around and taking a turn out of the Music Room.

Suddenly, Tamaki’s sad whimper turned into a growl as he whipped around, his gaze targeting a certain megane.

“What have you done, you stupid man! You just added fuel to the fire!”

“Facts are the facts, Tamaki.” Kyoya breathes, boredom flowing into his tone as he perches his glasses on his nose. “If they can’t handle a few inconveniences, then they’ll have to deal with it themselves. They’re smart.”

“But they’re not made of steel.” Hikaru said, folding his arms as he went to Tamaki’s side. “How could you do that to (Y/n)?”

“Please, she’s fine. She just needs to blow off some steam-”

“She is not fine.” Kaoru explains, less aggressive than his brother but still fiery. “She hasn’t been for days.”

“And Haruhi is already indifferent, but we know she tends to favor men’s clothing, and she said that getting fussed over by a bunch of girls might not be that bad.” Honey said, worry etching into his features.

“And we know (Y/n) loves us, but how long is she supposed to deal with Kyoya icing her out?” Tamaki expresses, jabbing a finger into his best friend’s chest.

“I am not icing her out. We are simply not speaking until she apologizes for what happened on the beach. She knows this.”

“She already apologized, you dimwit! She came crying to me with a cut on her leg about how bad she was feeling!”

“Yeah!” The twins agreed. “At dinner, she said she felt bad…”

“I haven’t heard any of this from her.” Kyoya stated, feeling a pit grow in his chest. You had apologized to everyone but him? That thought shouldn’t have stung as much as it did.

“No, no, I pushed her out of the room and she was definitely on her way to you.” Tamaki insisted, his anger diffusing into hot confusion. “She didn’t talk to you?”

“No, she didn’t.” His words were a lot shorter than he had meant them to be, but Kyoya was done hearing about how little you thought of your relationship with him. How you had put him so low on your list of priorities, pushed him aside like everyone else in his life.

“You should talk to her.” Mori’s voice added a base to the confused mumbles that rumbled through the club room.

“I will not.” Kyoya almost scoffed. “She is the one who needs to apologize, as she is the one in the wrong.”

“You both are!” Hikaru emphasized, getting into Kyoya’s face. “You’re both so fucking stubborn, neither of you see how much you’re affecting the other.”

“Her behavior has not affected me in the slightest-”

“Oh, give us a break!” Hikaru was about to give Kyoya a piece of his mind before Kaoru took over, pulling his brother back to his side and shushing him.

“Give it up, Hikaru, he won’t listen to us.”

Tamaki leveled his gaze with the Ootori son. “Do you want Haruhi to leave the club, Kyoya?”

“She can’t. Her debt is too substantial to pay back within such a small time frame-”

“Lobelia academy could easily pay her debt off, Kyoya-senpai.” Kaoru said, both brothers seething at him.

“Well, it would be…unfortunate, if she was to go, but if that was what she wanted-”

“What about (Y/n), then?” Tamaki interrupted him. “Do you want her to leave this club? This school?”

Kyoya paused, his gaze snapping to Tamaki. “She isn’t going to leave over something as little as this. She loves the Host Club.”

“She loves this club because of us. Because of you.” Hikaru says, his voice grumbly.

“What happens if that goes away?” Kaoru adds. “Does (Y/n) think so little of herself that she would just take the rude comments and invasions of privacy?”

“That is not what I-”

“Stop being mean, Kyo-chan.” Honey warns, his face crumpled into a scary pout. “It’s hurting her feelings.”

“She’s thinking of leaving the club, Kyoya. I can tell.” Tamaki’s mouth twists, as if he is so uncomfortable with that fact, that it makes him squirm inside his own skin.

The megane stops talking, and the boys can tell that he is registering their words. Slowly, he takes off his glasses and wipes them with the tail of his shirt, taking a deep breath.

“I won’t be apologizing. This kind of thing needs to be worked out between the two of us, without any interference from any of you. It will be resolved within its own time.” The hosts deflate as Kyoya works on a stubborn smudge within his lens, and Hikaru is about to step forward and give him another piece of his mind before Kyoya speaks up again.

“However, you’re right. (Y/n)’s services have brought in a great number of guests, and therefore income, to this club, and it would be a loss to let her leave without some effort.”

Kyoya picks up his glasses and gently places them back on the ridge of his nose, the light catching onto the frames. “What can I do to help?”

Tamaki just sighs, rolling his violet eyes. “It’s not enough, but I’ll take it.” Clapping his palms, he brings his friends into a huddle, his leadership skills beginning to shine.

“Listen up gentlemen, we will keep our ladies no matter what! It will be alright. If you listen to me, I have come up with a plan!”

Bunkyo’s city streets bustled with noise. Footsteps falling on the sidewalk, voices calling over car horns and barking dogs. But nothing was louder than your thoughts. You had long dried your tears, and after sitting in the rose maze for a little while, you were able to collect your thoughts.

You picked yourself from that gazebo, feeling lonely in the absence of someone beside you, and decided to treat yourself to a pastry from a favorite cafe. You need support from yourself now more than ever.

Everything had become clear at that moment. You didn’t mean anything to Kyoya anymore. You were simply one of his acquaintances that he kept arm’s length, offering them fake smiles and short words. And how were you supposed to work in the club like that? Without the warm glances and small touches? Without the words of encouragement, the quiet nights of working in each other’s space?

How could you sit back and watch as Haruhi took your place?

You cursed your lip as it trembled, and you looked up at the sky to keep your tears at bay. You didn’t want to cry anymore, you just wanted it to be over.

But just as you were about to walk into the cafe, you collided with a torso longer than your entire body, and you gasped as hot, hot coffee drenched your school uniform. Flinging back, you peeled the wet fabric off your torso, cringing at how the brown color stained the pristine, white cotton. Dropping your shoulders, you were about to confront this long torso, or at least whine at them while you suppress your second breakdown of the day, before you see the head attached to it.

“Oh my god, oh no, (L/n)? God, I am so sorry!” Brown eyes scan over your form in worry, and before you can protest, Arai is shoving his long brown jacket off his shoulders and shoving it into your arms. “Clean it with this! They’re the same color anyway. Dab the stain, don’t rub it in, it will just make it worse.”

He tries to do it himself as he scrambles out more apologies, but then he realizes that he is dabbing too close to your chest and immediately throws the jacket at you. “Oh god, sorry! I didn’t mean-I mean, I was just trying to help, because I didn’t see you! So I thought-”

“Dear god, Arai, calm down.” You clutch the jacket with one hand, the other extending to rest on his shoulder. And then you’re seeing his wild expression, worry and horror clear as day on his freckled face, and you’re laughing.

The noise lifts into the air, above the commotion of the city, and it feels good. You try to remember the last time you laughed like this, but it’s been too long, so you just decide to relish in the moment. And it feels even better when you hear a lower, quirky laugh join yours, and you see Arai’s shoulder’s bouncing in your peripheral vision.

“You’re okay.” You say, giggles still shuffling out of you as you grab the coat to wrap around your torso. “Although I don’t think the shirt can say the same.”

“I’m sorry, those shirts are so expensive.” Arai says, another wince rolling through his body. “You can keep the jacket until you get home. I know how bad your father can get with stains.”

“Oh my god, remember that time you came over when we were little? You tracked mud all over our floor and-”

“-and your dad nearly cussed out an eleven year-old? Yes, I remember. Unfortunately.” He smiles, and it’s big and wide and a little crooked, and his image solidifies a little more into the friend you had made way back when.

You both chuckle again before a silence falls over the two of you. Arai raises his eyes to yours, and suddenly you’re reminded that you’ve been crying all afternoon when his brown irises flood with concern.

You try to stop him from asking. “Oh no, I’m fi-”

“Are you alright? You look like you’ve been…” His arm reaches out for you, but you meet his hand half way and put it back by his side.

“I’m okay. I’ve had some time to think, so I’m alright now.” You reassure him, and he nods, thankfully dropping it.

“Okay, I’m glad.” There’s that smile again. “Were you heading inside?” The farmer asks, pointing a thumb at the door to the cafe.

“Yeah, actually. This place is my favorite.”

“Mine, too.” His whole face almost lights up, and he opens the door, waving you inside. “Wanna grab that cup of coffee you promised me earlier?” He raises his empty coffee cup. “Mine is empty for some reason.”

Another laugh bubbles out of you, and even if you are drenched, Arai’s energy is refreshing, and you don’t want to leave it just yet. “Sure. My treat.”

He shakes his head. “No can do. Not only will I pay for your dry-cleaning, but also your coffee- I mean, tea. Or something else. Whatever you want, because you just like the atmosphere.” He playfully mocks, and you roll your eyes, surprised he remembered that part of your conversation from a week ago.

Brushing past him, you walk into the cafe, Arai close on your heels. The door closes, muffling the chaotic rumblings of the outside world as whiffs of coffee grounds meet you. Warm, sparkling fairy lights swathed the ceilings, reflecting the natural sunlight streaming through the windows.

Soon, you both have ordered, your (f/h/d) in front of you as Arai’s lavender latte steams in front of him.

“Thank you for paying, you really didn’t have too.” You say, relishing the hot liquid that warms your throat.

“I really did, though. Your poor shirt.” Arai whines, his fingers running through his brown hair anxiously.

You laugh again, shaking your head to calm his nerves.

“It’s fine, god knows we have the money to replace it.”

“Especially if this deal goes through.” Arai says. “How have you been adjusting to the whole idea?”

You shrug, tracing the rim of your mug with your finger. “Fine. My parents have roped me into business deals before, but this is the first time they want me to be so…involved. No offense, but I think they might be using our friendship to get a better deal.”

The delivery boy just laughs. “I absolutely agree. But I’m not surprised. It seems to be my father’s tactic to get into business with my rich friend’s parents.”

“Really?” You scoff. “He’s done this before?”

“Mhmm. Twice actually. Your mom hasn’t pulled this act before?”

“Never forcefully. But I was always encouraged.”

“You know, that’s what I always liked about our friendship, way back when.” Arai noted, a sincere look in his eye. “Nothing forced us together, we just were.”

“Yeah.” Your breath catches in your throat when you think of the contrasting relationship you had with a certain Ootori. How it had all started with the proposal that merged Ootori Hospitals and (L/n) Tech. Would he even have talked to you if the proposal hadn’t been accepted? Would he have noticed you at all?

Something must’ve shown on your face, because you felt a slight pressure on your palm as Arai grasped your hand from across the table, that sweet look of worry creasing his brow.

“I, uh…” He pauses, the farmer sifting through his mind to find the right words. “I know you said that you were okay, but you don’t seem okay. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, no.” You squeeze his hand before pulling it away, choosing to warm your fingers with your drink. “I’m okay, really.”

“Sure.” He says, but you can tell that he isn’t going to give up because his brown eyes are still piercing through yours. “But, hypothetically, if there was something bothering you, you could talk to me. If you want to.”

You simper at him, sighing deeply. “Yeah, I appreciate that. I will if something comes up.”

But he wasn’t satisfied. “Because I know, hypothetically, if there was something bothering me-, I would definitely feel better talkin–”

“Arai.” You say, cutting him off a little harshly. Taking a breath, you lean forward a little, placing your cheek in your hand. “I’m good, I swear.”

“Right. Sorry, I just–” His hands wave around before they settle back onto his coffee cup. “I want to make sure you’re actually good.”

And that warms your heart to levels that your (f/h/d) couldn’t reach, and you tilt your head, studying the sincerity of his gaze. Maybe you could open up a little bit, just so he wouldn’t have that wounded puppy dog look on his face.

“Well, I guess there is one thing.” You say, picking at your fingernails. “I have a big presentation tomorrow that I’ve been working towards for a while.”

“Yeah? For what class?”

“Foundations of Marketing.” A nervous sigh escapes you as you realize just how close your deadline is. “We have to present an original product to a panel of mock-investors, and it’s an idea that I’ve had from the start of my highschool career.”

“If all goes well,” You continue, swallowing the butterflies in your throat. “These fake investors could take it to real investors. Which could mean the start of my own product launch.”

“Which would be…good, right?” Arai asks. “Why does it not sound good?”

“I’ve…been working on it with a partner.” You say, looking out the window to catch a couple holding hands strolling by. “We were on good terms at first, and we even worked well together. But, now, it’s not working out so well.”

“We’ve been in a fight recently, and, I don’t know. It’s making me question things.”

“What kind of things?”

You shrug, playing with the end of a sugar packet. You want to tell him, but you’re just not ready to be that open with someone you’ve just met. Instead, you skirt around it a little.

“Was it hard? Moving schools?”

Arai quirks an eyebrow up, but takes your change of subject in stride. He just leans back in his chair and blows out a breath.

“Yeah, I’d say it was rough at first. But it worked out in the end. Things always do.”

Taking a sip of his coffee, he met your gaze again. “Why? You want to change schools?”

“I don’t know what I want.” You groan, exasperated at the war going on in your head. “I’m just conflicted, I guess. So conflicted that…” A sigh breezes past your lips. “I talked to my mother earlier today, about finding a transfer application to Lobelia.”

An image runs across your mind of you in a Lobelia uniform, performing for the Zuka Club.

“Maybe I just need a fresh start.”

“(L/n).” You don’t look at him, but you show him your listening. “You’re happy at Ouran, aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but things feel…different now. Ouran is the best high school in the area, but this project has just shown me that people who I thought cared about me might not anymore.”

You hear Arai tap his fingers on the table before he draws a breath. “You’re not going to let that stop you, though. Right?”

Your gaze whips back to him as he looks at you with so much apparent trust in your abilities, that it almost makes you double over.

“What do you mean?”

“(L/n), you have to be one of the most capable people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I mean, even when we were kids, you still had more raw, immeasurable talent in your eyelashes than most people do in their whole body.”

You shake your head. “That’s sweet, but–”

“But nothing. Anyone who is worth their salt will see that you are the true passion behind your project, no matter what this dimwit of a partner does.”

“Thank you, Arai. But you’ve only known me for a short amount of time, so-“

“Then it makes it even more obvious when I can already see that you deserve to feel happy in the high school you fought to be in.”

Shaking your head, you do your best to fight your smile, but you can’t. Instead, you’re almost glowing at him, and you bite the inside of your lip, trying to shove your blush down from your cheeks. Looking out the window, you try to think of something to say that could possibly match that, but Arai interrupts your thoughts again.

“You’re still doing that?”

Blinking, you turn back to look at him. “Doing what?”

“You used to bite your lip when you were anxious in school.” He says, taking a sip of his latte. “Looks like you didn’t grow out of it.”

Your lip falls from your teeth on instinct, a small blush running to your cheeks at being caught. “I’m surprised you noticed that, I barely even notice it myself half the time.” You chuckle sheepishly, looking into your mug. “I should probably break it, but-”

“No, don’t.” He says, shaking his head with that crooked smile of his. “It’s cute.”

Your lashes flick up to meet his, surprise evident on your features, and Arai blubbers when he realizes what he said.

“No, not like cute cute, you know? I mean, you-you are-wait, I meant, it’s not like you’re not–god! What I meant was that it’s sweet, and nothing’s wrong with it, and I should shut up before I say shit I regret.”

Arai groaned, letting his forehead fall onto the table. But your giggles made him pick his head back up.

“You think it’s funny?”

“I do.” You say, silencing your laughter with a sip of your drink. “I really do.”

“I’m glad my embarrassment is funny to you.”

“I promise, I have my fair share of embarrassing stories to share, if you stick around long enough.”

He gave you a long look then, his smirk growing wider. “I think I will.”

go on ahead to part 2 :)

this isn't proof read btw, haha

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