When My Ex-Wife Started Dating My Best Friend
BY: MYLiFE'SBOAT
This is a disclaimer.
Summary: He could order people around like he's some god, but she can rest on the couch and tell him to slow down and let the maiden breathe or let Tachibana have his life. He was crazy about this girl, and he would do anything it takes just to get her back.
o-o-o-o-o
The bar along the busy district of Tokyo seemed almost empty when the businessman settled for something to drink. It was one of his favorite hangouts since not much people know the place.
He used to be a light drinker until after his divorce four years ago. It could be depression; it was always difficult to tell. Often he would take a shot or two, sometimes with Tachibana, sometimes with rich girls his father drops off to restaurants for a faint attempt of matchmaking, sometimes alone. He preferred drinking alone. It provided him more solace.
He would rather be in vacant bars like this one. He personally knew the owner of the place and it was easier to dodge the nosy press from sticking their noses to his business so, what the hell.
Ootori Kyouya just got out his million-dollar work in the office. He needed some time for himself, and alcohol would be the best partner in crime. His Porsche was parked illegally by the sidewalk and he wouldn't give a damn about receiving another ticket for about the fourth time in three months. He was used to it by now.
He flagged the bartender for another shot of Bloody Mary and waited. They hired a new staff, Kyouya just noticed since the face isn't at all familiar. The boy seemed a lot younger than the previous one, perhaps on his late-twenties. He liked the previous bartender better. The new one seemed quite inexperienced and antisocial.
He came back a minute later with a large bottle of a familiar liquid. Ah, how he missed the strength of this alcohol to his system. He could enjoy the headache in the morning if he can even get the muscle to kick his shoes off and jump into bed.
Haruhi used to drink Bloody Mary with him on Wednesday nights. They would sit on the porch all night and try to catch up with each other. She would swing her legs on his lap and he would lounge back to enjoy the late night breeze. They'll wait 'til the sun dawns up until they finally decide to retire to their quarters.
They started dating back in the university. Haruhi was taking her pre-law degree in economics and at that time he was a year ahead. They attended a class or two together on general education courses, and Kyouya took the advantage to ask her out. They were seen on fancy restaurants together sipping expensive champagne and nibbling chicken ravioli and mushrooms.
They dated seven months until Haruhi broke it off because she needed to prioritize her major. University demanded more time and they were both busy meeting their requirements. But they were good friends.
When Kyouya finished business school and Haruhi stayed back for her last year, he knelt down in front of her and asked if he could be the man she could live with for the rest of her life. He was twenty-three. She was twenty-two. They were young and Fujioka Haruhi said yes. As soon as she finished her degree, they got married.
They spent five months traveling the world while sipping tea and coffee on the Ootori's private yacht. They stayed a week or two in the Caribbean while digging their feet on the white sand and watching the sunset together.
They returned to Tokyo very much in love.
And then, Haruhi started saving money for law school. She found a job on one of the Ootori's businesses and she was placed in the higher office. Kyouya told her he could provide the necessary bucks to help her financially and she need not work--but she insisted on doing it her way. She didn't marry him just for the money, she said. Afterward, Kyouya's business on the medical field flourished and he started attending conferences overseas. Suddenly, they were too busy pursuing their own careers.
They tried to start and build a family to keep their relationship stay around for some more time. He was losing her and he didn't like the idea of losing someone like Haruhi. She fully understood the situation of their marriage and she could see how hard they were falling apart. Haruhi too, hated the idea of losing someone like Kyouya, despite his lewdness.
Their marriage struggled for a couple of months until it completely died down.
It lasted two years before Haruhi filed the divorce papers. A week later, she moved back to her apartment downtown. She traveled to Boston for a refreshing start in law school. She was twenty-five. They kept in touch, but he hadn't seen her since then.
o-o-o-o-o
Kyouya chugged his last glass down and stood up while tossing the bill to the bartender behind the bar. He pulled his coat back on and made his way out.
He inhaled the fresh late-night air. The coldness of the nearing winter season hit his exposed skin and he shivered slightly with the wind. A gravely familiar blonde girl with stylishly tousled hair came up to him with a smile. Her leather bodice tightly snuggled her prominent curves, a part of her cleavage was slightly exposed, and her skirt was just enough to cover enough skin of her thighs. A thick fur coat hugged her shoulders carefully. This must have been the only clothing that kept her from the cold.
"Ootori Kyouya, it's been quite a while!" she greeted with thick French accent and she smiled again. She pecked both of his face and Kyouya compelled with a half smile. He was taller for only a few inches. "How's Haruhi?"
The blonde missed the frown when Kyouya held out four ring-less fingers. "Divorced four years ago."
"Oh, I'm sorry." She didn't sound at all sympathetic. A strong wind blew and Kyouya shivered.
"It's cold out here," he noted while gritting his teeth to keep himself from chattering. "My apartment's only a couple of blocks away. Do you mind?"
"No, not at all," she waved her hand in front of her dismissively. "We have a lot of catching up to do."
o-o-o-o-o
Juliet Nasberg was one of his friends back in business school. They were seen going out for a couple of times before but they never really admitted their relationship. Kyouya has been in love with Haruhi. And the Nasberg Corp. is just one of the largest suppliers of medical equipments in almost all over Europe.
Everything was simply just for profit.
Kyouya shivered as his bare back hit the cold air of his own room. He pulled over a shirt and a clean pair of boxers from his drawer while drawing up the curtains that covered his large windows.
The moonlight broke its way through the glass, illuminating his whole room with a faint glow of light. Juliet stirred slightly from her sleep while pulling the blanket up over her shoulders. She needed some warmth.
Kyouya swore he wouldn't touch her. He won't get too drunk and be attracted to those long bare legs. He won't get too drunk and be mesmerized with those blue eyes. Long eyelashes. Juliet had flung her feet on his lap to entice him. Red toenails. He knew it was on purpose.
After a couple of more glasses and exchanges of stories, alcohol had taken its toll. Their minds were too much clouded with alcohol and their hormones took over. It was a pleasure he sought for and it was something she obliged herself to give anyway.
A steady beeping roused him back to his senses and Kyouya turned to search for the source of the noise. It was his mobile, flashing a familiar number on the screen. He flipped it open and aimed the receiver up to his ear.
"It's in the middle of the night. Can't you be any more annoying?"
The voice from the other line chuckled in amusement and dismissed Kyouya's statement right away. "My little brother's so indifferent in the morning!"
Kyouya checked his watch, trying to make sure if he was mistake. It was half past three o'clock. "Fuyumi-neesan, what do you want?"
This is going to be one of her black-mailing tactics again. He was sure of it.
"Can you drive me to the airport?" She used that tone Kyouya always found hard to refuse. It sounded sickly sweet yet commanding with a hint of mischief behind. He had to admit that Fuyumi is a better manipulator than he is.
"I'll ask Tachibana to accompany you." He didn't throw the towel. Not yet. Then again, sending someone else is still a weak argument. "Are you going somewhere?"
"Oh no," she chided playfully. "I'm picking Haruhi-chan up. She's arriving this morning from Boston, you know?"
"Look, just find someone else--" Wait, what? Haruhi's arriving from Boston?
God, it's been over four years.
Fuyumi basically loved Haruhi. She was her little play doll. Well, he had to say that his ex-wife's pretty cute and maybe even prettier if she just learned to groom herself up.
Fuyumi would drop by to let his wife try new collections from her wardrobe and paint Haruhi some make-up. She acted like the twins--irritating and frustrating--but ever since he was five, he'd gotten used to it. God knows how many times she played with him and forced him to cross-dress when they were children. She was a doting sister and he would get sick of her raining him kisses after she finished putting his make up on. It lasted for two tormenting years until he was seven. She stopped and hit the books in high school. Thank god.
During the course of the marriage, Fuyumi and Haruhi were in perfect terms. They were like best friends.
In a way, it helped having her as a sister. Whenever she would finish grooming Haruhi up, she would fish him for comments and he would simply pull his wife into a hug and kiss her on the lips until Fuyumi gets sick of the sight and leaves.
Ah, how he missed that.
"Kyouya-kun?" Fuyumi asked if he was still there.
"Give me a favor and don't use Haruhi as an excuse for blackmailing me." He wasn't angry and Fuyumi smiled on the other end of the line. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
o-o-o-o-o
Juliet woke up with the almighty hang-over. Of course, what else would you expect on a couple of glasses of dark martini the night before? She tugged the blankets up to her chest and leaned on the headboard for support. Kyouya wasn't there and she wondered where he had gone. She looked around for some clue to tell her where he was and found a tiny piece of sticky note on the bedside table with a quite familiar handwriting.
'I've had your clothes dry cleaned. They're on the couch. There's aspirin on the med cabinet. Left for something important. Thanks for last night. Kyouya.'
That was all the note said.
Sighing, the blonde pushed the blankets away. She slightly shuddered from the cold air as she finally made her way to the bathroom. Last night was wonderful.
o-o-o-o-o
Fuyumi was fidgeting excitedly on her seat and it irritated him. He had to get away from her. He stood up and checked his watch. It was half past six and he hasn't yet gotten any sleep since last night. He had been busy.
The city remained dead to the world. In a matter of hours, the sun will peek through where the ground touched the sky and the city will shake its cobwebs and wake up. Usually, the streets would be busy around nine or ten when the office workers would struggle their way for work and the early street vendors would put up their stalls for another long day.
It was still too early.
The host club suddenly flooded the lobby and caused havoc, like the usual. Kyouya pinched the bridge of his nose to calm himself down. He had anticipated it but this is definitely not going to be clean.
Tamaki spotted him at once. The blonde waved a hand and ran over to where he stood. The twins, Mori and Hani followed with their teeth exposed. Kyouya prepared for the crash.
o-o-o-o-o
Boston changed her a lot. The same large, hazel eyes were still there, the bubbly face and cheerful smile remains the same--but there was something that made her look quite different than the Haruhi etched on his memory.
Her hair was longer now, with the hint of slight curls and it seemed quite lighter that the usual color. It must be the sun. Is it even sunny in Boston? She seemed a lot taller than before. It must be the heels, Kyouya thought as he returned a warm smile. She wore no make-up but the natural tinge of pink on her cheeks made her look younger. She was thirty. He was thirty one.
He hated to admit it but he missed her. Some part of him wanted to pull her to an embrace and squeeze her painfully like what Fuyumi had just done. It would be comforting to feel her warmth again. He missed the faint odor of her shampoo and cologne on his pillows, he missed seeing her drinking coffee in the morning with his robe on telling him how much she liked the smell of his perfume. He missed painting her toenails after a whole day's work on the office. She would paint his too on matching colors and they would walk around the house with bare feet to show them off. On weekends, he would demand her to jump into the tub and he would shampoo her short hair. When he would towel it dry, he could ask her how her week was and they would chat until late noon and catch a bite at a family restaurant.
He regrets the days that were suddenly gone.
Haruhi had finished dealing with Fuyumi and the host club when she reached Kyouya. He stood by a large palm plant with his arms crossed and his shoes slick black. He looked like a typical businessman waiting for some proposal to sign on.
She extended her arms and pulled him to a close hug. Before he could hug her back, she pulled away just as quickly. "It has been a while."
"You didn't tell me you were coming back." It was stalling tactic. He wanted her to linger a little bit longer. Only, it sounded like an accusation and it took her aback.
"I assumed you already know." Well, it was something an Ootori Kyouya would normally do. Current news never escapes him.
"But I didn't. You asked me not to." It was the truth. As soon as their marriage broke off, Haruhi begged him not to dig into her personal life unless she speaks it out loud. He did it with respect and only a little bit of dishonesty.
Tamaki's voice resounded. "Haruhi!"
Haruhi shrugged. "If that's the case then I'm sorry." It suddenly became awkward. Tamaki called her again and Kyouya watched as the girl hop her way to his best friend. They haven't spoken since last month and this must be his first meeting with the whole host club in four years.
Tamaki's threw his arms for another hug and Haruhi almost jumped into it. He pulled away and planted a peck on her lips. She smiled serenely and the twins rained him loud pats on the back he almost lurched forward.
Kyouya blinked once and turned away. He'll wait on the Porsche until--wait a second--He craned his neck back and blinked twice. Fuyumi instantly appeared on his side.
"What just happened?" he asked stupidly.
Fuyumi supressed a smirk. "Your best friend is dating your ex-wife."
"Dating?" he asked instantly.
"You know," she locked an arm around his neck and led him to the car park. The whole host club will have a welcoming party on the top floor of the Suou mansion. "The casual flirting, dining in fancy restaurants and sipping pink champagne, getting drunk and talking about Big Bang Theory or the constitutional law. And then going to bed."
Kyouya was astounded. "Why am I unaware of all this?"
"Seriously, you didn't know?"
"I wouldn't be surprised if I did." He grimaced. How would he know if he promised her not to dig out her private life after the divorce? Well, Tamaki didn't even bother to tell him, "Hey buddy, I'm dating your ex-wife and she's driving me insane."
Fuyumi opened the door of the driver's seat and grabbed the keys from her brother's clenched fist. She wouldn't want a million-dollar worth of shit be blown up into pieces because of some anger management approach. And she still wanted to live a few more years. She could drive him to the Suou second mansion and leave him off with the car.
o-o-o-o-o
The room on the top floor of the Suou second mansion is often used for parties. Tamaki Suou held most of his important gatherings in that room, and prominent people gladly attend a night of lying low from back-snapping office work. This time, the great hall, as what the servants are used to call it, is adorned with Elizabethan furniture but more of the French style that it looked almost sophisticated. In fact, it is sophisticated - not that type you'd see elsewhere.
This morning, the host club will gather in the hall for some welcoming party of a previous member of their club. It would be a small get-together, and only a couple of friends will be attending. But Tamaki is a friendly man. He had known people form Pfizer to IBM to Macintosh. And because of that, words spread and many businessmen and women will attend a late-breakfast gathering.
Haruhi didn't like too much attention. The party went on like a boring congregation and no offense to Tamaki but she never liked attending such parties.
She stepped into the veranda and was surprised to see Kyouya standing by the railing. His suit was off and was draped on the balustrade. He looked up, his eyes closed. The almighty Ootori is basking on free sunlight.
After two years of marriage and almost thirteen years of knowing him, Haruhi had learnt by heart every inch of the Shadow King. "You knew I would come here."
Kyouya almost yawned. He was fourteen hours behind sleep. "You didn't tell me about Tamaki."
Again, it was an accusation. Ah, so this is about to turn to a conference now? Nice try, Ootori.
"You didn't tell me about Juliet Nasberg. Patricia Kirkpatrick. Minami Suzuki. Torakibuto Azusa."
Where on earth did she get her sources? Fuyumi didn't even know about the last one.
"Don't drift off. You're on the hot seat." Kyouya had prepared for a counter attack.
"Give me one good reason that provides you the right to grill me today."
"You're my wife and he is my best friend." Kyouya kept his eyes closed, still enjoying the warmth of the sun despite the crisp air.
"Was your wife," she reminded him though he needed no more reminding.
He stayed unperturbed. "Well you could have told me you were going out. At least I wouldn't be that shocked that hey, you're sleeping with my best friend for two months and me, your ex-husband had no clue."
Haruhi sighed and shook her head in frustration. This is not leading anywhere. "You're being childish."
She gave up with the argument and shrugged. It was pointless. "I'm going back in." She turned to her heel and before she could haul the door open, Kyouya had stopped her.
He gripped her wrist and leaned forward so their faces were merely inches apart. "I'm going to tell you one thing, Haruhi: I will have you back."
He didn't miss a beat. He said it loud and clear enough for her ears. Haruhi scoffed him away. "The bluff isn't working, Kyouya so quit it."
He does it every time he's losing an argument.
Haruhi jerked her arm away and headed back to the party. Kyouya smirked. He would head back momentarily; catch a couple of hours in bed, maybe ask Tamaki to lend him a room, and head to the office. He still had a lot of things to do. Kyouya is a busy man.
o-o-o-o-o
She preferred being called Garcia. It wasn't actually her name but since she's half Hispanic and she hated her actual name, she asked her friends and co-workers to call her Garcia. Simply Garcia. Kyouya didn't mind. It was easier that way.
The secretarial post was empty for almost half a year until Garcia came with her résumé. It was shoved under Kyouya's nose and he hired her instantly. He was desperate for a secretary to take care of his appointments, make alibis for missed meetings, and cook up excuses for postponed conferences, so what the hell. It became a surprise that she actually lasted for over a year. Normally, applicants and trainees would back out after a couple of months and the post will be vacant for long periods until he gives up and asks his general manager to find him his staff. Garcia had made a record. She must be really devoted.
The phone on her desk beeped and she pushed a button with her thumb.
"Garcia, what's in?" It was her boss. Somehow, he seemed a little cheerful today, considering it's still early morning.
She pulled out an electronic notepad that listed his schedules. "Board meeting at nine, Lunch date with Mr. Chen. He's bringing his five-year old daughter along so you might as well ask your sister to lend Ikuto-kun."
"Call her by ten. I'll pick my nephew up by eleven."
"Copy." Garcia put the device down and stretched her legs under the desk. "A certain Juliet Nasberg dropped a message."
"What did she say?"
"Piss off Kyouya-san. You're going to add another name on your list of people who sends you death threats every hour." By the time she finished talking, they must have accumulated up to a hundred.
Kyouya chuckled at this and spoke. "You shouldn't have addressed me 'san' if you're going to tell me to piss off."
Garcia sighed in defeat. "She said she'd call. Don't let her hopes up too much."
"I can't help it. I'm a young man."
Kyouya kicked his shoes off and turned his laptop on. He was about to start with business. Garcia ignored him and spoke. "Anything else?"
"Coffee." Kyouya almost smiled. "And expect someone marching furiously to your office demanding a bounty for my head."
"This part is what I hate about you," she pulled a pencil out of the holder and scribbled some notes on a pad. "You always put my neck on the line."
"It's part of the job."
Kyouya finally cut the line. Garcia pushed herself up and made her way to the coffee room. She could probably make one for herself too and prepare for who is just about to welcome her.
o-o-o-o-o
Haruhi punched the top button of the elevator and waited. A manila folder with about a six-page document was clutched tightly on her hand. It was almost crumpled against her grasp.
The metal doors opened after a few moments and she stepped out instantly. She banged the heels of her shoes brashly against the tiles. They were cheap and her father bought them on a bargain so she didn't mind that much.
"Excuse me, but where's your boss?" she asked the lady on the desk beside the executive's office and she winced. The heels hurt.
"It's Garcia," the lady spoke with a weak smile as if it read; 'I seriously don't want to be in this place right now.' Haruhi understood. The secretary pushed a button on the phone.
"The maiden who needs your head off is on twelve o'clock."
The maiden on twelve o'clock rolled her eyes.
"Let her in."
Haruhi hauled the door open and immediately dropped the manila folder on the clutter spread on his desk. She didn't care if he's busy or in the middle of something important. She would have this conversation now.
"What do you want, Ootori?"
Kyouya leaned back on his office chair and faced her casually. A fountain pen was pinned between his fingers.
"I gave you a copy of my divorce statement."
"I'm the lawyer here so I know the whole shebang. You don't need to tell me. What the hell do you want?"
"I already told you I want you back. I will have you back."
He's bringing this up so suddenly. Haruhi blinked once and closed her eyes. This isn't going to work. Not with him running around circles and making her play the pawn on his little game. He's acting like a manipulating bastard again. She's sick of this.
She just got back from Boston. Give her a break.
Haruhi snatched the manila folder from his desk and flipped it open. Now furious, she turned to page four, picked an annoying line and read it out loud.
"'I love her, but I had to let her go.'" She looked up to him and demanded an answer. "What is this?"
"It's the truth," Kyouya pushed himself up and strolled to the windows. The blinds were drawn and for a moment, he admired the running cars on the busy street below. "You filed the divorce. I had nothing to say."
"You could have just told me you didn't want the divorce."
Oops.
Kyouya smirked and turned back to Haruhi. He didn't hide it away. It irritated her.
"So, you were expecting me to break it off?"
Aside from being a rich bastard, Kyouya is an absolute smartass. Having big-time corporations and large companies, smartassness is a requirement to beat off other large businesses. Haruhi may have liked that about him before they got married. It was out of the question after.
He's using it again and she begged him to stop. She told him she's happy with Tamaki now and he can't barge in and just tell her he wanted her back. She has happily moved on and she had no intentions of getting together with him again. They were over exactly four years ago.
"You're dating my best friend and you think I'll easily let you off the hook?" He's acting like five-year-old who just had a toy broken and he's demanding for a replacement.
Haruhi, baby, life is unfair and it's just like that.
She's sick of this. She's sick of him and his dirty tricks. She's sick of his childishness. Haruhi grabbed her things and pushed the shoes off. Her feet hurt. She can't make it down forty floors without wounding her feet if she didn't take them off and that would be the last thing she would ever want to happen. She'll flag a taxi and take the short ride home.
Haruhi snapped him a last look. "Kyouya, we're not getting back together. Just grow up and accept it!"
She stormed out of his office and slammed the door behind. Garcia jumped in surprise and dropped her pen on the table. The appointment of her boss with the lady who needed the bounty for his head has just been over with. Haruhi treaded her way to the elevators and punched the button for the first floor. She would probably just call someone to pick her up. The tears perked, and suddenly, she broke down.
Kyouya sat on his office chair while scrutinizing the lone painting on one side of the wall. He pulled his tie off and looped it back in place. He did it two times in a row. He pulled it off again.
A knock made him look up to the door and Garcia popped her head inside. "You'll be five minutes late if you don't pick your nephew up in a minute."
"I'll be there." Kyouya secured his tie back, grabbed his things and headed for the door. He jumped to his Porsche and drove off. The car had survived.
o-o-o-o-o
It was never the question about love. They were too much in love.
It was never the question about money. Haruhi didn't go for the buck when she said yes.
Perhaps, it was about time, space and pride.
They understood each other perfectly. When she pouts, he knew exactly what he should get or where he should bring her. When he bitches, she knew exactly what to do. People saw them as the perfect couple; no matter how much they would argue and bicker about Haruhi refusing to attend the anniversary party of some important asset of the Ootori's business, or how Kyouya would check out some girl with long bare legs. Intense eyes. He doesn't stare that long though--just a glance. Twice.
Fuyumi envied her younger brother. He had found a girl, who could see him very differently and who could understand him very differently. It's not everyday you can meet someone so lovely and captivating as Haruhi is.
He could wake up with low blood pressure and a look that could kill, but she can sit upright and kiss him on the forehead. Good morning, Kyouya.
He could order people around like he's some god, but she can rest on the couch and tell him to slow down and let the maiden breathe or let Tachibana have his life.
He could read documents and policies for the whole weekend, but she can prop a large album of their wedding on her lap. He'd throw the legal papers on the coffee table and join her on the divan while sipping tea and laughing together as they recount the memories.
It was beautiful.
All of a sudden, both of them gave up on it. They caused a shock to their friends. Haruhi moved out of the mansion. They fell apart.
Kyouya made no way to stop her from leaving for law school. It was Haruhi's dream to be a lawyer and he would never do anything to interfere with it. He pushed himself with the business and it developed further than he expected.
In a way, they found something to distract themselves from a broken promise, a broken marriage, and two broken hearts. They loved each other very much, but she knew he would be happy if his business would grow larger. He knew she would be happy if she became a successful civil attorney. They thought very wrong.
Haruhi is dating another guy and it was time for Kyouya to be selfish again. He had learned long ago how to be patient and forgiving and (a little bit) altruistic. He wouldn't be that man anymore. He could never allow Haruhi be taken away from him again. He had lost her once because of his own mistakes. He will never lose her again. Not even to his best friend. Especially not to Tamaki.
o-o-o-o-o
The lights were dim and both men settled on the bar inside Kyouya's apartment. He had moved out of the house right after the divorce and he had paid the mortgage of his unit from his own bank account. Tamaki took a long sip from his glass and waited for his best friend to speak.
"I still love her."
They have been sitting there for over an hour talking about one girl. Tamaki gripped the glass tighter and stayed quiet for a long time, contemplating.
He had not realized it before but Tamaki had entirely fallen for her. He was simply too dense to realize his feelings. Perhaps because of the substitute family he had established with the host club before. He was blinded by that bond and had kept with the barriers of their friendship. He had only realized that mistake when he lost her to Kyouya.
And now that he just had her back, he couldn't give her up just as easy.
"You hurt her before." Tamaki wouldn't allow him to hurt her again.
"Tamaki, let her go." Kyouya had regretted that he had let her go.
"I won't let you play with her anymore."
"Play?" Kyouya almost banged the glass against the counter. "You think this is a game?"
"It's all a game to you, Kyouya."
The stool squeaked against the marble when he stood up and Kyouya pushed his glass away. With his jaws tightly clenched, he pinched the bridge of his nose to calm himself down. Suddenly, he was angry. Maybe because Tamaki had told him he had played on Haruhi. That she was merely a toy and once he had gotten sick of it, it would be merely trashed away. Tamaki didn't understand a single thing about it. Kyouya had let her go, not because he had gotten bored with his little plaything. He had let her go because it was what he thought was the right thing to do.
"Haruhi was never a toy for me, Tamaki." Kyouya's eyes stayed closed. He breathed deeply and continued. "I need to catch some sleep. Lock the door before you go."
He left Tamaki without another word. The blonde emptied the bottle in several gulps before he slumped against the counter.
o-o-o-o-o
He had been there for hours, contemplating. A bottle of wine carefully corked lay half-empty on the passenger seat. His fingers rubbed the rough embedding on the ring of his left finger and he sighed. The other pair was tucked in delicately inside his breast pocket and for the last three hours he'd been burning the gas of his Porsche, he was yet wondering if he should just step out, knock on her front door and ask for her back.
Of course, he was certain Haruhi would never give a damn about him after everything that had happened between them. He had known her too much to be so sure. They were over since four years ago and he can't possibly change that fact. But Kyouya needed Haruhi. He needed every bit of her to live. Thinking her heart is slowly belonging to someone else hurts him. He feels sucked in inside a hole of loneliness and he can't even get up to fight it away. It was intolerable. And for the first time in his whole life, Ootori Kyouya had found himself losing control over one woman--he had been ever since he met Haruhi. He had learned how to lose control.
Haruhi sat on the kitchen table since the desk in her room was cluttered in what was known to be her baby pictures and her high school graduation photographs. Ranka had strewn everything in her room when she was away. He whined about missing her, about her not calling, and everything else he found important to whine about. It was rather irritating and before Haruhi can even tell him to tidy everything up and for him to shut his mouth, she had already given up. She grabbed her things and settled on the kitchen to peruse on her case files. They had been begging her attention for days now.
She had pushed her reading glasses away and rubbed her eyes when the buzzer rang twice. The legs squeaked noisily against the floor when she stood up and walked to the door. When she pulled it open, Kyouya stood by the doorway looking extremely dangerous. Haruhi backed a step away.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"Let's compromise," he said. Haruhi spotted the ring on his left finger and she instantly knew where he was leading this conversation. She crossed her legs and cocked an eyebrow.
Kyouya continued. "You remember the Haruhi who used to sit with me on the porch every Wednesday night? Or the Haruhi who used to sip coffee with my robe on each morning of everyday?"
"What about that Haruhi?"
"I want her back."
The Haruhi who used to rest her head on his shoulder as the movie dragged on, the Haruhi who used to make him cheese and mushroom omelet in the morning before he goes to work, the Haruhi who can understand how obsessed he is on cars and the Haruhi who used to help him clean the Chevy or the Porsche or the Mercedes. He missed that girl he long fell in love with.
Her forehead wrinkled and she bit her lip. She looked away from him because she knew that the moment she turns to look on those dark eyes, she might easily give away.
Four years had effortlessly run past and for Haruhi, those four years she spent without Kyouya were the longest and most solitary years she had ever gone through with.
The Kyouya who used to walk around the whole house looking like the usual Low Blood Pressure Demon to scare the servants, the Kyouya who used to wrap his arms around her to pull her close and kiss her on the lips, the Kyouya who would rather choose a business meeting than a candlelight dinner with her, the Kyouya who used to pretend to be asleep and catch her off guard when he drags her to the couch and inhale the scent of her shampoo. She missed that man he long fell in love with.
She thought she can give him up. She thought she can make her believe that she was falling for another man and Kyouya is just another pigment of the past that was easier to forget if she falls in love with someone else. She was only fooling Tamaki. She was merely fooling herself.
Kyouya reached up to his breast pocket. His fingers brushed on the surface and it felt like eternity.
"What if she says no?" Haruhi spoke, her voice wavering.
Would you rather suppress yourself and break down?
His hand stopped and he looked at her. Her eyes were hazel brown, still captivating yet forlorn. He dropped the ring back on his pocket.
"If she says no, I'll step back, pull this ring off my finger and leave you alone."
"She says no." Kyouya closed his eyes. He had anticipated it, but as the words finally sank it, it hurt more. Much, much more.
He stepped back and opened his eyes to look up to her. He barely bowed in farewell before he smiled meekly and trudged on the first step of the staircase.
. . . Or would you rather be selfish for your own happiness?
"But--" Kyouya stopped and his heart skipped a beat. "She says she'll consider it."
He turned his head back and she stood there, looking back at him with the same captivating, hazel brown eyes. He smiled.
"Can you tell her that I'll wait for her to reflect on it?"
"I'll pass it on," she said.
With a last smile, Kyouya waved her goodbye and strode back to the Porsche. The wine bottle was carefully corked in the passenger seat, still half empty. The engine jumped to life and Haruhi watched as the car disappeared behind the curb over the darkness of the night.
o-o-o-o-o
Garcia was busy filing the documents her boss asked her to file when the large doors of the elevators opened and a woman with blond hair, blue eyes and long legs almost slithered to her desk. The woman tapped her desk and spoke in a rich French accent. "Where's Kyouya?"
Garcia grimaced while punching the button on the phone. "Juliet Nasberg on twelve o'clock."
"Let her in."
"The door's open, lady." She snapped impatiently and Juliet Nasberg raised an eyebrow. She opened her mouth to complain about this foul-spoken secretary but thought otherwise. She turned to her heel and disappeared behind Kyouya's office door.
"Hey," she spoke, her voice velvety and Western as she made her way to the divan across his desk. Juliet flung her legs on against the pillows and smiled. "You didn't call."
The tight jeans and red toenails are pretty tempting. Kyouya closed his eyes and rubbed the ring on his finger. The other pair was stuffed carefully inside the breast pocket of a different dress shirt.
"I'm sorry," he said.
She spotted the glint of platinum on his hand and she suddenly sat upright.
"Trying to get her back?" she asked.
Kyouya pushed himself up and strode to the windows. The blinds were drawn and the sun crept its way behind a large cloud. "I'm trying to win her back."
She knew it from the start. She chuckled at her own stupidity and Kyouya turned. Juliet smoothened the top of her hair in embarrassment. "I'll have to say best luck on that."
"I'm sorry," he said. She stood up. Kyouya had forgotten the tight jeans and the toenails. She kissed him on both cheeks.
"That's fine. I should not have expected too much." She backed away and opened the door.
"Juliet." He called her attention. She saw him over her shoulder. "Thanks."
She waved a hand in acknowledgement and closed the door behind. Kyouya sat back on his office chair and heaved a sigh in ease.
o-o-o-o-o
It was a fancy restaurant on the side of town and Haruhi was obliged to wear a grey dress that exposed her legs. Kyouya liked it.
They both settled in a private corner of the restaurant. It was a small round table with a gang of sax and violin players, roses and candles. She had to admit it felt quite romantic considering it was Ootori Kyouya.
They sat across each other as he watched her sip pink champagne. They were quiet for a moment before the maître d' arrived to place their orders. She ordered chicken ravioli and fatty tuna. He ordered fillet mignon and mushrooms. Hm, old habits die hard, Haruhi.
After a while, she set the glass flute down and turned to face him. The orders arrived and Haruhi forked on her food while Kyouya waited.
She looked up and chewed the food slowly before she spoke. "I have deliberated."
Kyouya poured champagne on his flute. He didn't touch it. "Might I know then the result of your purposeful deliberation?"
She cocked her head thoughtfully; it almost looked childish. Kyouya simply enjoyed watching her so animated. "It's probably a yes."
He lifted the glass and sniffed the champagne. He took a sip and smiled. "As what I have expected."
"You cheat."
Their legs under the table were almost entangled. Kyouya put the glass down and turned his attention to his food. Haruhi waited.
"Are you not going to give me the ring? I can wear it to match yours," she had suggested.
The food's great, he thought. He chewed on the mushrooms before he found his words. "Perhaps tomorrow. I left it on my breast pocket."
He left it on the breast pocket of his dress shirt yesterday.
Haruhi lounged on her chair and stretched her legs under the table. She pushed the stilettos and her bare feet rested on top of Kyouya's slick black leather shoes. She closed her eyes and listened to the soft music of the sax and violin play around their private corner. She enjoyed the moment.
Kyouya can finally look forward to the Haruhi who used to fling her legs on his lap as they sip Bloody Mary on the porch on Wednesday nights. They can finally catch up with each other; and probably laugh about the silly things they've been through with those four years. And when the sun finally emerges over the horizon, they can finally settle to rest beside each other. Ah, indeed that would be great.
o-o-o-o-o
END
Reviews, please. :)