Disclaimer: I don't own OHSHC, or the song Need You Now, by Lady Antebelleum (which is totally the basis of this fanfic)

So this takes place a few years after the manga. Haruhi and Tamaki decided to stay for a while longer. Haruhi is studying law (of course!) but she plans to transfer eventually. Tamaki's finishing up his fourth year of business school.

Haruhi stared out the window of their shared apartment. A single tear rolled down her face. "I was a fool," she said as she taped up the last of her boxes.

Her blonde ex-boyfriend was nowhere to be seen, and that suited Haruhi just fine.

There was a knock on the door, but Haruhi didn't bother answering it. If it was him, he had a key. And she didn't want the rest of the club to be visiting right now. They lived next door, so they had to have heard the fight at two in the morning. And she wanted to avoid all the questions she could.

A small voice called out. "Haru-chan? Can I come in? I brought cake!"

She sighed, but refused to let the oldest, and the cutest, of the hosts into the apartment. More often than not, Honey just made things so much worse. Especially if he'd brought cake. Then things would get much, much worse.

Eventually she heard soft footsteps walk away, and a small, "Sorry, Tama-chan. I tried."

A while later there was another knock, and the twins called out, "Haruhi, we know you're in there." Again, she ignored her friends and felt only a slight pang of guilt.

"I don't care. And tell that blonde idiot that he can stay out there and sulk for all I care. He deserves it." If she was hoping to get a reaction from the host king himself, she would have been sadly disappointed. But she didn't care about him. He was just an annoyance, an obstacle to overcome before becoming a lawyer.

Or so she told herself.

Tamaki sat curled up outside their apartment. He still had his key and could've gotten in, but he would give her space, if it was what she truly wanted. "She doesn't love me anymore, does she?" The twins sat on either side of Tamaki, but neither said a word. Mori, across from the trio, silently shook his head.

"Did she ever?" Kyoya asked, typing away at his laptop. "You're the heir to one of the largest corporations in the world. She's a mere commoner. What's there to say that she wasn't just another girl after your fortune?"

Tamaki shot to his feet, anger rolling off him in waves. "Don't you dare, Kyoya! Haruhi isn't like that. She would never date someone just for money. She did love me, at some point!" There was a soft click as the apartment door shut behind an exhausted Haruhi. "Haruhi!"

She didn't acknowledge Tamaki besides a slight shake of her head as she carried a taped up box down the hall.

He fell back against the wall and slid between the twins again. "I've really screwed things up, haven't I?" He pulled out a small box and tossed it between his hands.

Kaoru nodded, but Hikaru spoke for both of them. "C'mon Boss, not everything's wrong. At least she still looked at you." It hurt him to say the words that could bring back Tamaki's fighting spirit, but he said them nonetheless. Haruhi was obviously hurting, and nothing he could do could make her feel better, even if he was still in love with her. Only Tamaki could do that.

"It's no use, Hika-chan. Tama-chan has to do this by himself. It won't mean anything if he doesn't." Honey hugged Usa-chan to his chest and watched Haruhi as she struggled to keep the box in her arms. He wanted to go help her, like he knew they all did, but only Tamaki could heal her.

By the time Haruhi had come back for her next box, the Host Club was asleep outside the apartment. She smiled slightly, but her heart wasn't in it. The one who worried her most was Tamaki. He had dark circles under his eyes – matching hers, she was sure – and he was slumped awkwardly to the side, his head resting on Hikaru's shoulder.

She might hate him, but that didn't mean she didn't still love him.

A piece of blonde hair had fallen into his face, and Haruhi bent down to push it out of his face. It was a dangerous move, and she knew it, but still couldn't help herself. "You're such an idiot, Tamaki."

She stood up and brushed her pants off, but a hand grabbed her wrist before she could turn away. "Haruhi. Please. Don't go. I need you."

Shock ran through her veins as she sat beside him once again, but let out the breath she was holding when she realized he was still asleep. "There's nothing you can say to make me stay. It's something we both need, and you know it. Now let me go Tamaki. Even if you're asleep, I know you'll listen to me."

Tamaki whimpered and rolled off Hikaru to curl into a ball on the hallway floor, still grasping her hand.

"I'm sorry, Tamaki. I think I do love you, somewhere in my heart. But you betrayed me, and I can't erase that. So, at least for now, let me find my own way. I can't do that if you and your emotions are holding me back."

He finally let his fingers relax their grip, and she pulled her hand from his. The kiss she placed on his lips would have tasted of tears, had he been awake.

But he wasn't, and she wasn't about to stay.

He'd hurt her one too many times.

The Host Club woke the following morning with stiff necks and cramped legs from an entire night on the floor. Even Kyoya had stayed to support his best friend. Though he would've claimed otherwise.

Kyoya placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. She's gone."

It was the first time in years that he let himself cry.

Haruhi stood in the airport, staring at the ticket in her hand. There was something that made her want to stay, something that urged her to run back to Tamaki and apologize for leaving.

But she didn't – she was stronger than that.

With a sigh, she boarded her flight home.

Tamaki sat on the floor of their once-shared apartment, surrounded by the photographs of their time together. He picked one up, one from when the Host Club dressed up as women to make Haruhi stay.

A soft chuckle made its way through is throat as he tore the picture to shreds and threw himself backwards. "It wouldn't have worked anyway." A tear rolled down his face as he picked up another picture.

This one was just of the two of them. Haruhi was reading a book, and Tamaki was hugging her from behind, reading over her shoulder. The twins had stalked them that day, and Tamaki had been grateful, after trying to tear off their heads. But it was in pieces now, just like all the others.

Torn shreds of their memories were scattered, some having flown out the open window. But he didn't care. Not in the least.

But he did.

He still loved her.

One Year Later

Haruhi stood at the edge of a cliff, looking down to see the violent waves crash against the shore. The sigh she let out was visible in the late night air, telling her that being out after one in the morning wasn't just stupid – it was suicidal too.

It had been a year since she'd seen him, and her fingers itched to pull out her phone to call him, to hear his voice one last time. It would help her to let go at last. But chances were he wouldn't even answer.

She sighed again and sat down on the edge of the cliff, pulling her hair out of its ponytail. The constant pressure was irritating her, and out here she was alone. There was no need to keep up appearances.

The wind whipped her hair around her face, but the stinging pain helped her come to her senses. There was no need to call him. He wouldn't care anyway. Not after their fight.

She shook her head. She might've been the one to leave him, but he was the one whose actions caused their fight. It wouldn't do either of them any good to talk. Not with how things were left between them.

Taking one last look at the ocean below her, Haruhi stood and walked back to her apartment. Alone.

Tamaki sat at a bar in Boston, drinking with some of his friends from school. They were laughing and joking, swapping stories, but his heart just wasn't in it. Every couple minutes, he took another sip of his whiskey and watched the door. He was waiting for someone, but his friends didn't know who.

He did.

He was waiting for her.

Ever since that night, he couldn't even think her name without flinching. Tamaki knew that she wasn't coming that night, that she would never come again, not since she'd left him. For good reason, though. The club had told him that, again and again and again. He knew he messed up, but he also knew that it wasn't just his pride that kept him from going after her – she had plans, ones he knew he wasn't a part of.

And so he let her go.

That night was the biggest mistake he ever made, and they both knew it. But no matter how much he wished he hadn't stayed out with that girl, he had. And he was still paying for it with every second that passed.

Tamaki sat on a bench in the center of the historical district of Chicago. It was mid-Autumn, and the reds and oranges of the leaves blurred together as they fell. His head was bent, and a small box was being passed between his restless hands.

Long blonde hair swung in front of his face as a young girl leaned over him. "Tamaki? Is that you?" She asked in French.

He stood up and hugged the slightly younger girl and looked into her ocean-blue eyes. "Emilie? I can't believe it! What are you doing here, in Boston?"

The girl, Emilie, grinned at the taller man. "My family's visiting for the week. And what about you? I thought you said you were going to Japan to stay with your dad."

He nodded, releasing her from his embrace. "I'm studying abroad for a year. It's beautiful here, isn't it?" She agreed, a small smile still on her face.

Emilie grabbed his hand and pulled him so they were sitting on the bench. "We haven't seen each other in so long! It's been what, five years?"

He nodded. "It doesn't seem that long though. What've you been up to?"

"Not much. I'm surprised, though." He tilted his head to the side, a piece of hair falling to cover part of his face. "You still speak French. Without an accent. I thought that after this long you would start sounding Japanese!"

His laughter echoed around the park, and she joined him soon after. "I practice, mostly while playing piano."

She clapped her hands together in joy. "Oh! You still play, then? I would really love it if you would play a piece for me. There's a piano in the hotel I'm staying at."

"I'd love to. I don't have one in my apartment, and I've really missed playing. Lead the way!" She laughed once more and grabbed his hand, dragging him behind her.

He looked away from the door and placed his glass on the bar, pulling out the little box at the same time. With a sigh, he got up, told his friends he was leaving – not that they noticed anyway – and pushed open the door.

Tamaki talked and laughed as he played the piano, reminiscing with the girl from his past. It was the first time in a while that he'd talked with someone from France, and it made his heart a little lighter. He'd been so stressed lately, between school and homework and his friends living right next door that he'd forgotten what it felt like to just sit and forget everything.

The amount of alcohol he'd had only helped.

The sun began to set, casting shadows into the lounge, but Tamaki barely noticed. Emilie had taken all his attention. It had been years since he'd seen her, and they hadn't parted on friendly terms. Not when he'd chosen to be with his mother over her while they dated. And when he left… well, there were a lot of things said that neither of them meant.

A crowd had formed after the first measures of his music, but it began to thin as couples went to dinner. Eventually only the two of them were left, but Tamaki kept playing. The music was a drug to him, and having Emilie brought back memories of his time in France.

Tamaki looked down at his watch, feeling as if he was forgetting something, but shrugged when he didn't remember. It was nearly midnight – he'd been playing for hours. He smiled and stretched his arms in front of him.

"It was a pleasure playing for you, Princess," he said as he kissed her hand. He released it and left the hotel.

A hand grabbed his jacket and held him back. "It was really nice seeing you again. Can we meet for lunch tomorrow?"

He nodded. "Sure. Let's meet in the park again."

A large grin broke out across her face as she threw her arms around him and kissed him soundly on the mouth. "Then it's a date!" She called as she turned from him and skipped back into the hotel.

Tamaki stood there shocked for a minute before shaking his head. It amazed him how he felt after the kiss, but shrugged it off. It didn't mean anything in France. He'd just been in Japan for too long.

Whistling under his breath, he began the long walk back to his apartment. The air was cold, one of the coldest yet, so he put his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders to keep in the warmth.

His fingers brushed the little box, and he remembered what he'd forgotten.

Dinner with Haruhi.

So, as usual, read, and review and I'll consider letting Tamaki and Haruhi have their happily ever after. Eventually.