A/N: I am so sorry this took so long and that it is still quite short! I wrote most of this in one sitting and then went away from it, and when I came back the muse didn't return with me. But I think it's back now, or at least, I hope that's what being able to finally finish this scene means! I'm planning on banging out a couple more scenes tonight before I crash, but I wanted to get this up ASAP, so here it is!

I know Kyoya's thoughts might seem a bit AU, but I'm still trying to get into the swing of him, I'm so sorry if I don't do him justice! It will get better as I get used to him, I promise!

And thank you so so much for reading, reviewing, and following! I am so appreciative! :D

A few weeks later, in Boston…

"Ah, Haruhi…" Kyoya smiled at the girl before him.

Haruhi opened the door wider, allowing Kyoya into her apartment. "What is it, Kyoya-senpai?" she asked, watching him as he looked around her apartment over her head.

"Tamaki invited me over for lunch today. Though, clearly he didn't mention any of this to you."

An awkward silence hung in the air.

"That idiot." the two mumbled. Haruhi looked up at Kyoya and chuckled.

"Well, since you're here, you might as well just stay. I was going to make noodles since it was just me, but I can figure something else out if you'd prefer." she told him, shutting the door that had still been open behind him.

Kyoya nodded, making his way towards the kitchen table. "I'm not particularly hungry, anyhow. Noodles will suffice."

Haruhi was taken aback. Kyoya's taste and appetite both surpassed her own. He was never quite satisfied with things she made, which never really surprised her, considering the gourmet he was used to- though he was never quite rude about her cooking, either. But, still, him being satisfied by noodles? It was definitely new.

She noticed that he had sat at one of the kitchen chairs and was looking at her expectantly. "Oh. Right." she laughed, making her way over to the stove to begin their meal.

"You seem to be getting along nicely here." Kyoya's tone was neutral, but it felt so much like a jibe that Haruhi cringed.

She turned to look at him, but he wasn't even looking at her. He was playing with the tablecloth, tracing the pattern with this pointer finger. Before she could question him or think up a come back, he was speaking again. "You're well suited for this situation, it seems. You… and Tamaki. We have only been here a few weeks, classes haven't even started yet, but the tanuki and the king are in full bloom." it seemed more as if he was narrating something than actually addressing her.

Haruhi tilted her head at him. "Senpai?" she asked, her voice concerned. Kyoya finally met her eyes, and smiled.

"What I mean is, you seem happy, Haruhi." he clarified- though Haruhi didn't really get that from anything he had said.

"I am." she agreed, turning back to their lunch. There was quiet while she turned off the gas and put their food into bowls, passing one to Kyoya. "Aren't you, Kyoya-senpai? Happy, I mean." Haruhi asked before shoving some noodles in her mouth.

Kyoya twisted some noodles around his chopsticks and began to eat, leaving her question to hang in the air for a few moments. After he had finished chewing, he gave her a small smile. "Of course I am."

"I'm glad." Haruhi smiled. A few moments passed before she added, "But, you know… if you weren't… that would be okay." her voice was quiet but strong, and Kyoya blinked at her, as if she were speaking another language. "You could tell us. We would help. I would want to know so I could help." He met her eyes finally and she smiled at him.

He blinked a few more times, as if looking at her for too long was too much for him, and then said, "Right. Well, that's nice of you to say, Haruhi. But, as I said, I am quite happy." and it wasn't a lie, not in that moment, not when the woman he loved had said something so kind to him right there in the apartment she lived in with his best friend, at the table she and his best friend sat at and ate home cooked meals together every night, across from the bed that they had probably-

Okay, so he wasn't as happy as he could have been. But that wasn't to say he wasn't happy. After all, she had just shared a small amount of her love with him, even if it had only been the platonic kind. And he had to take what he could get without overstepping the King. After all, overstepping the king is how men lose their heads. And Kyoya's head was much to valuable for that. No, he would be content with the little snips of affection Haruhi tossed his was until… until he married, he supposed. Or fell in love with another, someone beneficial and attainable, if he was truly lucky.

But he glanced across the table at Haruhi, her mouth stuffed with noodles, and she gave him a small, chipmunk cheeked smile- and he knew he would never get luckier than this.