AN: Wow. This was supposed to be a short oneshot. But...wow. Not so short anymore. I'm considering continuing it a chapter, if you all would like that.

I really like this. It all just flowed out. You might be able to point out where it actually did flow out considerably. As other people have thought, they may be slightly OOC (Such as Haruhi getting drunk…. –cough-), but since this is college, I'm believing they matured some. Especially Tamaki (Thank Heavens. Love the kid to death and back, but sometimes…I really want to choke him). The quote later on is from the manga, by the way. Short sentences and repetitive words are there for a reason. Inspired by Here In Your Arms by Hellogoodbye.

It's got humor, fluff, romance, angst (But not an overload of it)…The good stuff.

So enjoy. :D

By the way, Devil's Matchmaker…um…I'm sorry. I've been busy with various projects so, I haven't had time. I do know how it will end, and I started the fifth chapter. Updates may be sooner than you think. It will be soon. Both the update and the end. I'm sorry. ;--;

Haruhi Fujioka.

Age: 21.

Sex: Female.

Haruhi remembered these basics of her personal information, as she lay on her back in a foreign household. With her shaking hand to her sweating forehead, she attempted to roll on her side. …Ah! Not good. Not good at all.

"Mmm…" Haruhi groaned. Her head hurt like...well, her head hurt like hell, really. …What happened? Why, she of all people, cursed with such a brutal headache? …And why, the question hadn't come to her yet, was she in someone else's house?

She tried to remember the causes of last night that might have led to this pain. But everything was a blur. She lay there, eyes closed, thinking back a far as she could…

"Haruhi!" A girl called, trotting down the street. Her long warm brown hair bounced, as with her pink bow, which flopped. The pink, as well, dress restricted the girl from running faster, but the dress was no match for her. With what we will call her "Otaku Superpowers", she could do anything in any costume.

"Ah, Renge. Long time, no see." Haruhi greeted. The girl, who had slowed to a stop, grinned widely. Renge still was unknown to the fact that her current fandom (of 5 or 6 years) was actually female. Luckily, Haruhi had been wearing something not so girly, not so manly, something which could be interpreted as, perhaps, unisex clothing. Also, her hair was still kept short, only for it's "ease of use." She was about the same since the high school graduation, the last time Renge saw her. Haruhi was now a college student and living her dream of becoming a lawyer.

"It's been too long! Do you have the time, Haruhi? It seems I'm running late to a party!" she gasped through hurried breaths.

"Y-Yes." She glanced down at her wrist, wondering why she hadn't taken a car, or even a bus. Rich people don't use them, I suppose. "It's 6:18 in the evening."

"Oh dear. The party started at 6. This is worse than I had imagined." Renge raised a hand to her chin, thinking considerably. Maybe of ways to arrive at the party faster? Slowly, her eyes brightened and her lips bloomed into a smile as a slight rosy blush blossomed over her cheeks. "Well, it's never a bad thing to be fashionably late!" Renge clasped Haruhi's hands in her own, much like an incident back in high school, and took some steps forward. "And how could I pull off being late superbly without a handsome date? You'll come won't you, Haruhi?"

"Eh? Renge, I—"

"No need to thank me! You'll enjoy it!" she cheered, quickening her pace.

An hour later, Haruhi sat at the bar, downing shots and occasional daiquiris. Anything. Anything to let her escape from this rambunctious college party. At least there was alcohol. Haruhi, herself, was most definitely not an alcoholic. But sometimes, in some places, it was needed. An absolutely necessity when you're bored out of your mind and tired of men mistaking you as a woman. (When in fact, you actually were. And for once, in four years, you weren't trying to be a male.) This did not ease the burden on the party or on Haruhi's bored, and getting even drunker, mind.

She stumbled away from the stool at the bar, and into the bustling crowd. The loud music, with an even louder bass boost, racked through Haruhi's ears, and her mind was made even fuzzier, if that was possible. The party got louder, and for some reason, the world went dizzy. And…

Thump.

"Woah, watch out! …HAHA! This guy's out! What a wuss!"

"Yeah!"

Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, until she could no longer possibly keep them out. So, combined with her drunken comfort, she closed them. Yet, not before seeing someone push his way through the crowd. He looked happy to see her…that was weird. He looked familiar. She tried to stay awake just a little longer, only to see his expression change to one of shock and concern. Why would he be shocked and concerned? Haruhi definitely knew this man. Did he go to her college? High school? Elementary? She couldn't place his name; it was on the tip of her tongue…How annoying. She shut her eyes, irritated and tired.

"…Ah! Haruhi…!"

And sleep came.

Haruhi's eyes snapped open and she bolted upright. Her knees arched, she threw off the sheet that was obviously gently laid over her.

Oh…well…at least she was still dressed. …And she still had a hangover.

She leaned onto the back of the couch.

So...who was that guy?

…She leaned back. And saw a foot. With a white sock. Right next to hers.

"Um…" her voice wavered. In a strange house after a strange night with a stranger on the floor. Hmm…

Haruhi traced the foot to the legs, up to the stomach, torso, and finally his face. He was lying on the floor with his foot propped up on the couch. Blonde hair. Handsome. …It was clearly the man from last night. Even though she was drunk when she saw him. That didn't matter now, anyway. Why was he on the floor?

"Hey…wake up. Who are you?" Haruhi asked, very plainly and straight to the point as she poked the man's side. She had a very large hangover and was extremely grumpy. She was never one to waste words or time.

He stirred.

Blue eyes.

Blonde hair.

Handsome.

Concerned.

Slowly but surely, the pieces fell into place.

"T-Tamaki?"

"Huh?"

"Tamaki Suoh?"

The both came to their senses at around the same time.

"I see you've awoken, Haruhi." Tamaki smiled.

"Why am I in your house." She asked flatly. A little aggravated. A little relieved. At least it wasn't a strange man, or possibly a pervert. Though he mostly fit those titles. She hadn't seen him since high school, but he still looked the same, aside from maturing some.

"Umm…" he yawned. "You passed out, so I took you here. It was closer than your dormitory. You were--"

"How do you know where my dorm is?"

"Kyoya told me. Kyoya knows everything."

She stared at him for a very long time, obviously not pleased.

"...Before you reach anymore conclusions, you were asleep the entire time and I didn't try anything. Would I, a true gentleman, honestly do that?" he asked, raising a brow.

"I was drunk and out cold, you could have done anything and wouldn't have been aware of it."

Tamaki sighed and sat up stretched his arms, yawned again, and offered her coffee, which she kindly declined with the excuse of "You could have drugged it." Always practical and quick to the point, she was.

He once again sighed, giving up. "I'm about to make myself some since I prefer it that way, so if you'd like anything, come to the kitchen. It's down the hall on the right, then to the left. There's no door, so you'll be able to see it."

"Alright." She nodded, ending their friendly (annoyed) banter after an emotional (nerve-wracking) reunion.

She laid back down, hopefully to get rest from her dizzy, hurting head, which had only begun to get worse.

This was--is…weird.

In fact, the entire series of events was quite odd.

Renge dragged Haruhi to the same party that Tamaki was sent to, only to pick up a young, irresponsible business partner of Kyoya's. For whatever reason, the business partner could not be found, even after a call and a text message was sent (As it turned out, Tamaki would later learn, the partner's message had arrived late on his cell phone due to connection problems, and had left immediately. Their two cars had incidentally passed each other in the driveway).

Tamaki, beginning to enjoy the music and crowd, had headed towards the bar area, simply for a soft drink. Or at least, that's what he'd say.

Music plus college students at a party, with the added presence of alcohol, will always equal dancing and drinking. And, as always, the students around the bar are mostly likely drunk. Shifting his way through the crowd, he happened to notice a short brunette (Boy?) fall off a stool. It was quite funny to watch him waver then…plop. Right off the side. He stifled a laugh, for he was now a wealthy, budding businessman, and laughing out loud heartily would be improper. That is, he stifled until he saw a dazed, not-quite-there-anymore feminine face staring back at him.

Before any party-goers could, perhaps draw on her face with markers, or be amused by setting her on a couch which would be carefully placed in the middle of the street, or worse, Tamaki continued to move through the crowd hurriedly, until he reached her. By then, she had already passed out. He took Haruhi home, safe and sound.

Tamaki watched her, leaning on the doorframe of the hall. His hands wrapped around a mug of warm coffee (Instant. It was a horrible habit to try and break) and a smile tugged at his lips. Even with her peaceful, yet annoyed and grouchy, expression, she was still cute. Even after all these years. Even after he graduated, her debt was repaid, and she, herself, graduated, too. She'd grown up, and blossomed into an increasingly more beautiful young woman. After all, how could a Father expect less of his precious Daughter? He laughed to himself.

In the beginning of his third year in high school, he finally realized the truth. She wasn't his daughter. She never had been. The twins' words on that faithful day at the beach in his second year were true.

"Actually, how serious are you about that daughter/sister thing?" Hikaru asked, staring intently at the wriggling worm between his index finger and thumb.

Kaoru glanced at him eerily. "Are you using it as some sort of defense?"

Tamaki, the clever creature that he was back in high school, used the intelligent discovery of the Blue Serpent wrecking havoc the treetops above as a distraction. Though, to say their words hadn't spooked him and provoked thoughts would be an outright lie. …Honestly…was it truly a defense?

He'd been in love with her, every day since the very first. Love was only something he'd read about in storybooks and seen in movies. Where the handsome, Prince Charming would arrive on his steed, calling out to the fair damsel, who would fall hopelessly in love the moment their eyes met.

Haruhi was different. She was a challenge. No matter how many dragon slayings took place before her, she'd scoff and turn away. "Is that the best you can do?"

That was why he didn't understand. She wasn't the weak princess, and in her eyes, he was far from a prince. They had switched titles. Perhaps he was the lowly, poor peasant who offered his heart, his belongings, the world, to her, the rich princess everyone wanted but could never have. He'd have everything sent back to him in a nice package with a pretty red and pink bow, and a note attached with the loveliest handwriting he'd ever laid eyes on. I'd love to keep you as a friend.

He opened his, unusually dark, violet eyes slowly. He was being too hard on himself. Haruhi had told him time and time again that he was, indeed, a friend. Every time, he'd smile and nod after a long pause. You're my friend, too. And she'd smile back. In truth, he was saddened more and more each time. What was love at all, if it was only one-sided? He could rely on the memories where he managed to make her blush and laugh; even a smile was worth cherishing. All those sweet, sweet memories…

Tamaki sighed. He turned away, walked down the hall, and back into the kitchen to get another cup of coffee. His current mug was cold by now…

Haruhi turned in her sleep, completely unaware of Tamaki's actions the night before. She only heard the gist of it. Though, it was indeed the truth.

If she hadn't gotten drunk and fell, then maybe, just maybe, Tamaki and Haruhi would have met under better circumstances. They could have enjoyed the evening together. Alone. She might have felt the simple chemistry they shared with each other and no one else. So simple it could have been looked over by those who are blind to their emotions.

Again, if she hadn't gotten drunk, fell, and passed out, then maybe she would have felt him carry her home, bridal style, gingerly, with a deep childish blush he thought he grew out of. He couldn't resist thinking how perfectly she fit in his arms.

If she hadn't woken up so quickly in the morning, she might have felt his hand lightly slip away from hers. He had stayed by her side the entire night. Even if she breathed too quietly in her sleep, he'd be jolted awake, and ask her if she was okay, though he knew she wouldn't answer.

If she hadn't been asleep, she might have felt the goodnight kiss he so tenderly-- and hesitantly-- placed on her forehead.

If she hadn't rolled over as soon as he laid her down, she might have heard him quietly trip while finding his seat next to her. She might have felt his eyes watch her, so close, but yet so distant, until he, too, succumbed to sleep hours later.

Review if you wish. By the way, don't drink. It's bad for you. I'm very sure Haruhi wouldn't get herself drunk (purposely), but think about it. Stuck at a party with Renge. I'd do the same thing.

I hope you liked it.

Until next time.

Much love,

Erin

:D