Disclaimer: I don't own Ouran, or Kyoya, or Tamaki. Because if I did, things would have ended a lot differently… Also, I don't speak a word of French, so don't shoot me for having used a translation site. Oh, and also, this isn't the first OHSHC fic I've written, it's just the first I've decided to post. I know you cared about everything I just said so much.

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It's easy to pretend not to care when you really don't. But when you're heart throbs for someone, it's damn near impossible to give an air of unconcern.

This is proven once again as I watch Tamaki approaching me from across the room. He's got a very effeminate way of walking; with soft, light steps, and the slightest sway of his hips. Not that I watch this…

"Kyoya!" he calls merrily to me, flashing a brilliant smile that I only wish wasn't so genuine. I feel myself melt a little.

"Yes?" I ask, feigning, as usual, that I'm much more interested in the accounts before me than the pout he's now wearing. So damn expressive. So damn cute.

"Why don't we spend time together anymore? I miss my best friend," he whines, stepping up before me. I bite my tongue to keep from whimpering as he then proceeds to slink his arms around my neck, and bring our faces close. "I miss my boyfriend."

"We've never officially been dating," I remind him, catching myself before I let my voice crack. It's true; while we've gone out on a couple dates together, and even gone so far as to kiss (would make-out be a better term? I think so.) there has been no official declaration of our courtship. I don't know how long we plan to keep it that way, but I suppose it's my job to insist "as long as possible."

"That doesn't mean I can't call you my boyfriend," he insists, tickling my lips with breath far too warm and sweet to keep me at bay. I'll kick myself for it later, but I lean forward to kiss him fleetingly. He gives a soft moan which makes me wish I could take more of him right now. But that's impossible; I'm supposed to be uninterested.

"No, I suppose it doesn't," I agree, stepping away, "But it does mean that you shouldn't act like such a flirt while there are other people around."

In fact, there is hardly anyone left in the library- our current location for study-hall- and certainly no one paying attention to two scholarly boys in the back of the expansive reference section. But I felt like I needed to make a point.

He obviously doesn't agree, though, as he takes me up in his arms once again. This time, the urge to pretend to resist is waning at a rate so fast, I have no desire to even chase it.

"Don't you like it, mon amour?" he asks, voice low, and breath even steamier than before. Damn him for doing this on purpose. He knows I cannot resist his sweet French. They're right to call it a romance language, I suppose. That and Italian, which he's also tried on me.

"You're a tease," I tell him, without moving one way or another.

"It's part of my charm," he says; just like himself to act so vain. Though I suppose he's got a right to it…

"Remind me again why I've hopelessly fallen for you?" I ask in a sigh.

He chuckles- a sound far too pleasant- before kissing me in a much less than chaste way. Feeling my cause completely lost, I surrender to the kiss. As we're at it, I'm quite sure I detect the librarian walking by, and probably stopping with a bewildered expression. Although, in this instance, I don't really care.

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TEH END. Harhar. Cheeeeeeeesy…. Review? No? Whatever.