First fic! Please R & R. I'm really excited about this one. It's going to be a two, maybe three chapter story but it's fairly condensed. This story was actually written while I was going through the songs off my old ipod and a song I actually don't really care for all too much anymore brought me a plotbunny. So Paramore fans, rejoice. Stop This Song (Lovesick Melody).
Beneath closed lids and lashes, the raven-haired boy's eyes flickered lightly as his mind displayed a memory from the past.
Tamaki's fingertip lazily traced the rim of his glass, touching smooth porcelain. He looked up at Kyoya as if he wanted to speak, but then lowered back again into the fabric of the seat. Glancing back at the other, it took all of the Ootori son's will not to roll his eyes over how the blond's face looked whenever he was deep in thought.
"What is it now," he murmured coolly, eyes reverting back to his laptop. His cold, pale hands never ceased movement on the keyboard.
"I was just wondering," Tamaki started slowly, leaning back in his place on the ornate red seats normally reserved for their guests, "what it's like to actually fall in love with someone."
This was something the host prince had been thinking about a lot lately. Kyoya could see it too, the way his expression changed from relaxed club president to deep in thought. Kyoya stopped his typing and swiveled his desk chair to face the blond. Adjusting his glasses to fit the bridge of his nose, he inquired. "What brought this on all of a sudden?" A white glare hit off his lenses like a small flash.
"Well, the guests seem to fall in love with us all the time. But that's different, since we're approaching them as hosts. But truly loving someone... is something else."
The Ootori boy only nodded at that, going along with his prose. "Your thinking about love and relationships is far too abstract, Tamaki. Take this club for example. You as a host have the taste of flirting and mingling with girls as much as you'd like, but the only downside is that so long as you're in this club, a true relationship may not ensue."
Tamaki's eyes fell back on his half-empty cup.
"To put it simply," Kyoya continued, "one day the host club will end." He paused for a moment, taking slight amusement in his friend's idiotic grimace at the mere thought of dispersing his family. "The club will end someday, either by one of two means. You'll fall in love with someone, or we will graduate. By then you'd have met all the girls in this school through the host club or otherwise. One of them is bound to catch your attention somehow, am I not correct?"
The blond bit his lip and did a single nod though his mess of blond curls, eagerly taking in his best friend's words.
"Or at least, that's my theory," the black-haired teen stated rather politically. "But when the time comes, your future with that woman will be uncertain. You can't assume that she'll have the same feelings for you. Love's a gamble, Tamaki."
Kyoya smirked as if he just gave away his best-kept secret.
"Which is why I refuse to partake in it. I refuse to have things like relationships, a distraction that would not hold any relevancy for me until later in life, hinder me from my studies and work. Surprisingly, putting on a facade here at the club is much easier. Girls are put down more gently since I have the excuse of being a host. In addition, I profit from every client I attract."
The prince gave him a bewildered look, which didn't bother the shadow king at all.
"What I'm saying is you have the right idea. Just now isn't the time to think about such things."
Now isn't the time.
"I... understand. When the time comes, then," the blond grinned broadly, rising from his seat. "But when I find her, I won't have any intention of letting her go," Tamaki sighed, holding himself as he stared up in the air, head in the clouds. "At the same time... I don't have any intention of leaving the host club anytime soon. So hopefully she'll come later on, after we make many good memories here! You know, Kyoya?"
The boy shook his head but smiled nonetheless. "You're an idiot."
He was taken from his dreaming as the alarm clock's shrill sound met his ears. In his half-awake form, a long limb stretched out with fingers fumbling unintelligently as they reached for the top of the night stand. Kyoya cursed under his breath before clicking the snooze button located on the side of the device. Withdrawing his arm to the warmth of his bed, he exhaled before drifting off again. Sleep was one of his few pleasures in life; he deserved just a few minutes more.
Just as soon as his breathing slowed into a sleep-like pattern, like magic his cell phone rang out and melodic piano music filled the air. Never in his life had Kyoya wanted to rip out the strings of a baby piano so badly. He tossed in his sheets, forcing his eyes open as he hastily snatched the phone blaring beside him. Sitting up he flipped the cellular open, and with fatigue still evident in his voice, he answered.
"What, Tamaki! What could possibly be so important that you had to call me so early in the goddamn morning?"
A pause. "... Ah, good morning Mommy," a light voice answered sheepishly yet happy to hear the other nonetheless.
Kyoya ran a hand down his face in frustration. Tamaki could hear his angry let out of breath and didn't know whether to chuckle or frown. He found it a bit endearing. "It's not that early," the blond said on the other end. "It's only seven thirty."
"Yes Tamaki, but for normal people seven thirty on the weekend is early," he spat, rising from his bed. The cold air hit him as soon as he removed his comforter.
"You promised you'd be here at seven, remember? To help set up for the party," The prince whined. "It's me and Haruhi's 6-month anniversary, and I'm still not very good at the dance I'm doing with her," he sighed, looking off to the side.
"I promised nothing," Kyoya retorted, taking his glasses from the stand and putting them on. A gleam shot across his lenses. "Why would you pick a dance you can't perform well with?" Sometimes the blond's stupid ideas were the ones that consumed him the most. He meant well, but he's too dense to be realistic when applying his own whims.
"Because it's Haruhi's favorite," Tamaki said, perking up. "She loves everytime I play it for her." A sickening feeling rose up from Kyoya's stomach at the sound of the other's happiness whenever he spoke about his girlfriend.
Damn it, not again.
"Okay, so have you an instructor who can help you with it?"
Another pause. "... That's kind of why I called you. She's sick..."
Kyoya sat back down at the edge of the bed. "Well, what do you want me to do about it?"
"She left the music and the steps for me to go over... and I can't trust the twins to help me with it, and Mori and Honey are in charge of other things, and Haruhi will be coming over in only a few hours and I can't-"
"Alright already," the dark-haired teen cut him off, adjusting his glasses. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes." Before Tamaki was able to respond, he snapped his phone shut. This is humiliating.
His girlfriend... it's been six months already? Six long months. Tamaki had been fawning over this girl far longer than that. Ever since she stumbled upon Music Room Three. Even before he noticed she was a girl. Kyoya could see it, the immediate longing for her in his eyes. Yet it took so long for them to get together. And here they are, about to graduate high school and they've been dating for six months and the future is uncertain.
Now's the time to think about it.
Kyoya felt sick again. He rushed to the bathroom and turned on the sink, splashing cold water on his face. Images of Tamaki laughing, his best friend. The void he filled. He's an annoyance.
He's someone I can't bear to live without.
He slammed a fist hard down on the marble counter of his bathroom sink. This has been getting out of hand. Six months, and I can't help but feel sickened whenever the mere mention of them comes up. Not that he hated Haruhi. He admired her for standing out from the crowd. Her hard work and good judgment were things he respected. Her ability to put up with all the nonsense the other hosts had put her through. But those were the things that also stole Tamaki's heart.
The dark-haired teen swallowed and let out a forced breath. Quickly he changed clothing to a dress shirt and black slacks with leather shoes. He didn't care what he looked like right now, he just needed to go over there and get it over with. Kyoya knew if he could get through this, he could get through another six months, and then another.
He could get over those light, optimistic eyes and charming grin, blond, wavy hair that stood out from the rest of them. The way he reached out to Kyoya in ways other people couldn't. The way Kyoya was close to transparent in his eyes. He couldn't let him leave so easily.
But Kyoya was better than this, to be wallowing over a mere crush, on a male, too. He felt disgusted with himself. He had to break off those ties before they became more. It was decided. As soon as they graduated and went their separate ways, he would cut off all relations with the Suoh boy. Out of sight, out of mind...
The teen went back into the washroom to brush his teeth and fix his disheveled black hair. After that he grabbed his cell phone and took the stairs down to the main hall, where a housemaid offered him breakfast. He turned it down, his appetite turned off for this morning. Instead he called for the car to pull up front.
As it drove away, Kyoya stared out the dark tinted glass of his car window. He sighed and glanced back at his phone, remembering the melody that played whenever Tamaki called. He could trace the notes; feel the keys underneath the tips of his fingers.
Six months, and he'll forget the song completely.
