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Hey guys, it's a new fic! The title is a work in progress though. I know I should not be starting a new fic. I won't be able to keep up, but whatever. Hope you like it!
PROLOGUE
It's a routine.
The doors of the music room open, and I am greeted with nods. They know I'm not here for them. The quiet chatterings of the other girls flows through the room, melting into white noise. Taking my seat in front of him, I take out a pen and a sketchbook, and I draw.
He never acknowledges me, but there's a sense of appreciation. Even though he is part of the Host Club, he is barely ever requested, mainly there as an accountant, a salesman, a businessman.
I watch him, some days, typing away on his computer, other days, scribbling away in his notebook.
Laughter drifts from one of the less solitary corners of the room, and I cock my head, listening for a second before continuing sketching. Recording the way the light glints of his glasses, and how the sun flashes off his dark hair.
And by the end of every day, silently, I hand him the drawing without a word and walk away.