Title: Flaws
Rating: PG-13 (due to some suggestive themes at one point)
Pairing: One sided Tamaki/Kyoya, one sided Kyoya/haruhi
# of Words: 1202
Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High school host club, and i don't really wish to because I would just ruin the greatness that it is.
time taken to write: 31 minutes
The marker on the screen flashed in a monotonous rhythm, the glare of the screen reflecting from fine plastic held in place by thin silver frames. Names, dates, points, all listed on this screen but the shadow king wasn't paying attention to it at all. His eyes were focused on the crowd surrounding a plush couch which cradled the slight form of one Haruhi, her eyes focused on a simple piece of colored paper. Delicate fingers deftly folded the corners over corners until it revealed a small paper crane, the color of leaves. The ensuing noise from the customers and his fellow host club members caused him to wince, but he wasn't the only one to. Haruhi's stunned reaction caused the 'king' to respond as he normally would, to try and smother the life out of the poor girl. Hikaru's growls and kaoru's jests were noted, but Kyoya's eyes were focused on the cause of the chaos. Namely Tamaki's dewy eyed expression and Haruhi's barely contained shock/anger.
Tamaki, his first real friend, rival (though barely), the gravity which pulled the group close. Kyoya couldn't help himself but stop and admire the young man, with his fair colored hair, finely structured face, and his eyes. Eyes which showed every single emotion contained within the soul. However Tamaki was not without his flaws. HE was overly emotional at times and was innocent of many ways of the real world, seemingly drifting in and out of a fantasy world full of assumptions and fairy tales (or tv movies), but perhaps that is what made him so endearing. His lips were perhaps best used to kiss senseless, and in the past, Kyoya sometimes felt jealous of the girls who received the attention of that perfect mouth. They couldn't appreciate the overly sweet words Tamaki fed them. They couldn't see the pain and need for acceptance behind the false joy. They had no right to touch him or Tamaki, but he couldn't stop Tamaki from touching them. Kyoya kept a distance from his own admirers, keeping up his mask so that they could continue to fawn over the man they believed him to be. A few years back, if you were to tell him of the outrageous outfits he would wear, the harebrained ideas which he would take part in, that he was questioning his current relationship with his best friend/potential lover, and Kyoya would of laughed and thought you an idiot. Tamaki had that effect on people, even ones as serious as Mori, as unpredictable as the twins, and especially people like himself, those who wore a painted mask. Only for Tamaki would he be willing to do such things, as absurd as they were. He would tolerate it, but only for Tamaki's sake, and yet now he found it harder to keep that mask up in the presence of this mere slip of a girl.
One look at Haruhi would never be enough to tell what this girl was like. She was innocent, and yet worldly, intelligent, and perhaps rarest of all, not materialistic at all (unlike many girls who spent all their earnings on seemingly useless things such as clothes and vile perfumes). When it came to men and feelings of love, she was as innocence as a newborn foal, even with five men, even Mori, in his quiet doting on the girl, intruding in her life. Yet she was not dull, if anything she was the opposite. Her eyes seemed to take in everything around her with a shrewed sort of sense, but her mannerism was different to each and every one. To Hunny, she was the gentle sister, while to Hunny's protector she was a sort of kindred spirit, both content in solitude and the calm (before the storm anyways). She treated the Twins like two over-curious cats or friends, with a sort of attitude one would give a kitten. They were annoying at times yes, but it seems that they could not help it. Tamaki was treated perhaps the most unusually, either she was the patient mother figure which Tamaki sometimes sought out due to the lack of such a figure in his early life, or the flustered and overly tired friend. Always wary, Kyoya made sure not to allow his mask to slip too far nor allow it to be so far away that should he be caught off guard, he would not be able to slip it back on. The reason was simply that he felt comfortable around this slip of a girl. Most other examples of the female race did not interest him, either being too overly sensitive and emotional, too 'loose', or far too immature. No, Haruhi was none of these, she was calm and intelligent, and far too mature for her own age. Like Tamaki, she carefully hid the hurt behind kind eyes, but the sadness and need for someone was as clear as day to those who actively looked for flaws. Kyoya was that type of person.
Kyoya couldn't pinpoint the moment when his defenses first fell, but if one was to closely observe, they would see him straying closer to the young girl, standing right beside her at times, his far more relaxed posture when talking with the girl. In response, Haruhi seemed to seek him out for a bit of sanity in their insane little world, or perhaps just a straight forward answer from someone who's normal intentions was not to torment her. Certainly she could ask the same of Mori, but getting a response from that man (he could not certainly not be considered a boy due to his attitude, appearance, and height in his opinion anyways) was a feat in itself. If one was to watch the calm moments, they would notice Kyoya's eyes straying toward the little waif, as if trying to peer into her soul, to see if she was just as real as Tamaki, who seemed to be one of a kind. Perhaps her resemblance to the man so close to his own heart was why Kyoya found himself dreaming at nights of the moments with the two. He could feel Tamaki's lips on his back, he could feel the warm form of Haruhi pressed against his own, warm skin against skin. He could hear the soft breathing as he caged her with his own body while deep blue eyes watched. He could imagine a time with them both, and a time with none at all, for he also knew that Tamaki would hold her close to his body and whisper small sayings of love in her ear. Then Haruhi would move away, not caring for such things.
Kyoya was not a greedy man, he was merely intelligent. He was not cruel, only calculating, he was not needy to the eyes of the world. But to his own, he yearned for the caresses of two souls so alike, it burned him. "Kyoya-san?" A cool voice broke his thoughts and he found himself face to face with one of the two objects of his obsession. His eyes strayed to where Haruhi once sat and found a gaggle of girls laughing as they watched Tamaki fiddle with a piece of paper, trying to fold it into a matching crane. His face turned once again, and he smiled at the girl, making sure that this time, the mask stayed on, lest he reveal his flaws.