Title. Holly Berries
Author. Mech
Project Start. 8/16/09
Applicable Genres. Romance, angst
Rating. K+
Warnings. Manga spoilers and character/canon usage; inappropriate age differences; the audacity to write as if this speaks the truth behind the manga and character actions, a presumption at which I usually scoff
Parings. Tamaki/Kousaka
Summary. When she asked for him to be transferred to the main mansion, she carefully left out that her decision was influenced by how she, too, had undeniably fallen to his charms.
Inspiration. Okay, so maybe I'm weird, but I thought they'd be cute together. Of course, this is coming from the major Ryoji/Kyouya shipper...
Although I prefer to refer to characters by their first name, I know her as Kousaka, and so I'm making an exception.
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When she first met the boy, Kousaka silently cursed the father for having a son arguably even more handsome and charming than himself. It was only a short time later that she began to wonder whether or not it occurred to Yuzuru that having a woman lawyer in such a position of power might have been a bad decision on his part, given Tamaki's universal talent of sweeping the ladies off their feet. Then again, the elder Suoh had expressed great faith in her perspicacity and professionalism from the very beginning.
It was exactly this supposed professionalism that failed her as she peered through the lenses of her glasses at a certain blonde boy from across the zoo parking lot. Even the soft remains of his laughter traveling across the pavement convinced her lips to turn upwards at the corners. His laughter, his smile, his so very apparent joy in the moment all had gained as much power over her as they had over the girls in his class. Her profession was far too depressing; it had been a long time since she had met someone with a disposition of just the opposite.
And like the girls in his class, she had no chance of winning his affections. Not that she would dare move into such a position of inappropriate conduct; a woman and a boy, an employee and a boss. The best for which she could hope was to cherish each moment spent in discussion in the quiet solace of her office, and to keep that smile on his face by granting him what he wanted: residence in the main mansion to be with his father. If only she had the audacity, the ambition, the power to bring him his beloved mother.
Even when the so-called discussion was consumed by the topic of one Fujioka Haruhi, she would gladly sit still and listen to his melodic voice for hours on end as if she were his psychiatrist. That she could manage personal time with him along with her impressive workload served only to impress the Suoh leaders.
"Thank you, Kousaka-san," the boy offered at the end of one such appointment, though the exact reference of the sentiment was left unclear. As he stood in preparation for exit, she too headed towards the door in a subconscious attempt to keep her prize closer for as long as possible.
"Anytime, Tamaki-bocchama," she replied honestly, regardless of her true distaste for the current topic of conversation. Mentally she outweighed the pros and cons of her superior social status versus Haruhi's age appropriateness; that girl did not belong at Ouran, did not belong with Yuzuru's son. When her hand drifted over to pat the top of his blond head, she let it linger there for a moment longer than necessary.
"For listening, I mean," he specified, smiling in his charming way that could light up the whole room. "And always watching over me. You're like... a mother to me." She didn't let the anchor drop from the deck of her heart; that one word meant far more to him than anyone could tell at first glance.
She laughed. "For such a glorious compliment, I should be the one thanking you, Tamaki-bocchama." Hearting thumping in her chest at their close, physical proximity – a distance over which his fan girls would swoon – Kousaka tried the boundaries further by leaning forward to place a gentle, maybe motherly kiss on his forehead, light enough for her lipstick not to come off yet assured enough for confusion to flash across Tamaki's face. Not giving him too much time with which to ponder the action, she stepped back into the room in order to – regrettably – allow him to exit. "I'll see you soon."
On his way out, she let her hand drift down over his neck and shoulder and across the path of his arm until he disappeared beyond her reach. If he noticed – if he ever noticed – he didn't comment. Even though she had him closer than most girls could ever dream, it would never be enough for someone who had fallen to his irresistible charm. She convinced herself it was that to blame and not herself; nothing unique about her situation. She was just a woman in the presence of a handsome man.
And yet, every situation that summoned that presence sent her into a fit of repressed staring. Every business meeting that required her full attention, Kousaka had to purposely set herself across the table as to be not particularly prone to distraction; every session in which she was only an observer, she indulged herself in the next seat over, from where they might brush hands as he passed down the agenda with a smile especially for her. When they were closed within the safety of her office, she restrained herself from behind the desk, logically hoping yet sentimentally not that he would stay on the other side of it. Maybe he didn't realize the effect it had when he leaned over the mahogany, curious as to her answer for the question he had just proposed, cerulean eyes boring into hers from only a foot away.
Whatever response she gave, she was far more focused on the soft skin beneath her manicured fingers and the way he watched them in interest, in anticipation, in concern. She had him in her hands; maybe she had unknowingly taken advantage of her more advanced age in order to subdue him into such a rare position. As she slid closer in her chair, their noses touched.
"Kousaka-san," he whispered, whatever the emotions lacing the sentiment of a definite negativity, but confusion being the primary influence. Instantly, her hands dropped from his face.
If only the light of those eyes could shine for her.