"Those confiding their pain cannot know at the outset how much they will be required to relive it."
~Barry Unsworth~
"Well, well. The newlyweds have returned!"
"Yu-chan! Kyo-chan! Welcome back!"
"Congratulations."
"Welcome back."
"Welcome back Yura-chan!"
Yura smiled weakly as the entire host club gathered around. She was exhausted and didn't bother to respond to their various greetings, though she vaguely questioned why the twins only addressed her. They hugged her one by one, even Haruhi, with sympathetic looks on their faces. Not caring to know why though, she let the twins practically carry her to the car. Mori and Hotta carried the luggage while Haruhi and Honey followed along, Tamaki lagging behind to drape his arm over Kyouya's shoulder.
"So how was the honeymoon with your lovely wedded wife, mother."
Kyouya had to ask himself to this day why Tamaki still called him that. It was starting to creep him out.
"Fine."
"Fine?! Only fine?"
"Yes. Tamaki." his tone hardened as he gave Tamaki a dismissive side-glance "Fine."
Tamaki blinked and moved back to look at his best friend.
"Kyouya, did something happen?"
Kyouya pushed up his glasses, calming himself. "No, nothing at all."
He walked ahead of Tamaki, not wanting him to ask anything more.
"Yu-chan! Yu-chan! Did you have fun in France?"
Yura nodded, rustling through her bag. "Ah, good it didn't crush." She pulled out a pink box and handed it to Honey.
"French confectioneries, I got them from the bakery by the hotel."
"Thank you!" he opened them and began to eat, getting crumbs, icing, and fillings all over his face and clothes. It was at time like these, Yura really couldn't believe he was five years older than her. She gave everyone else their gifts, most of it being souvenirs and clothing. Everyone seemed to be in a contest of berating Kyouya for making her carry all the stuff she brought.
"The least you could do is carry your wife's things, Kyouya. Aren't you supposed to be a gentleman?"
"What a horrible husband..." the twins pretended to mumble under their breath though they were fully audible.
"That's not very nice, Kyo-chan!" Hunny exclaimed between bites.
Mori nodded.
He ignored the comments, taunts, and mumblings. He simply sat opposite to Tamaki, writing in a small leather-bound book, the blond giving him a troubled look all the while.
Where they would live became another topic that almost verged on an argument while planning the wedding. Yura had come to the conclusion that she would just move in with Kyouya into his condo. Kyouya, on the other hand, was already in the process of buying a mansion similar to the Ootori estate. Yura was against it. She did not have good experiences when it came to mansions.
After hearing her reason, they came to a compromise: they found a house partially suitable to both their taste. It was still unnecessarily big to Yura and a bit on the small side for Kyouya, but the couple kept their peace and agreed to make it their new home.
When they reached their destination, Yura felt some tension leave her for probably the first time since landing in Japan when she caught sight of Hirohito and a nearly identical face. She ran up to them, giving her brother a spine-creaking hug, before Hirohito knelt down and kissed her hand, giving his customary warm smile. It was something she was sure she wouldn't get used to. Yura turned her face, red cheeks and all, away from his view. They reached the front door which Hirohito opened with a copy of his own keys.
"Welcome home, Ootori-sama, Ootori-fujin."
Both Yura and Kyouya were caught off guard by the address, but kept it to themselves as they began to step to cross the threshold. They were stopped by Tamaki.
"You can't just walk in like that!" he yelled in their faces, holding his hands out in front of them blocking the entrance with his body.
"Why not?"
"Kyouya has to carry you over the threshold: bridal style."
They both gave Tamaki "you are a sentimental idiot" glare before turning around to see the others, including Haurhi, nodding in agreement.
"It's just a silly western tradition, like bouquet tossing; it doesn't really have any real significance you know?" Yura tried to reason.
Though they both seem in agreement on the subject, the reasons for their reluctance were on completely different grounds. Yura found it silly and strongly believed Kyouya would definitely not do something like that, especially considering how he seem to be keeping her at a distance since the third night of their honeymoon. Kyouya's reluctance, however, had nothing to do with thinking it ridiculous.
So when Yura was about to try convincing her half French friend to let them pass, a sound between a squeak and a gasp escaped her open mouth at feeling of her body being taken off the ground. She looked at Kyouya in surprise, who taking her firmly into his arms, walked past the threshold into the parlor before putting her down. They were seemingly unaware of the other's speeding heart rate and were paying too much attention to their own to notice the host club's slack jaws and wide bulging eyes. Yuki and Hirohito smiled at one another, before gently pushing everyone out and closing the door.
The next two months went by insipidly at the new Ootori residence. Yura absorbed in her studies to make up for the last two weeks and Kyouya with work. What bothered Yura though weren't the long hours, late nights, and little sleep Kyouya got, but how he always seemed busy.
Even on weekends.
They had agreed some time ago to keep their weekends as free as possible to rest up as well as spend time together. It felt as if her surmises were being confirmed by the fact Kyouya always had an unexpected call or meeting or paperwork on Sundays and Saturdays that weren't complete until well into the night. It got to the point that the only time they ever saw each other was when the other was sleeping.
Yuki came to visit when this rote was going into the third month. He found his sister in her study (which was actually a room with bookshelves and other empty nooks to keep various materials for her hobbies) at her desk, staring at her Biology textbook in a futile attempt to read.
"Hello Yu-chan."
He was greeted with a listless glance and a nod. Yuki tilted his head, walked over to where Yura sat and moved the textbook. Yura leaned back, allowing him to do as he pleased. He sat down on her desk.
"Is something wrong?"
"Who said anything was wrong?"
His eyes narrowed as he studied his twin sister's downcast eyes and arid tone. He grabbed her face and brought his with an inch of hers.
"Tell me."
Her eyes remain down, running her hand across her nose.
"Is it Ootori-nii-san? He's not treating you badly is he?" he tried guessing, thinking already what he would do to him if it was the case.
Yura smiled sardonically, before whispering "I don't think it constitutes as bad treatment, technically..."
Now whatever Yuki was planning to do to Kyouya was almost set in stone as he asked what happened.
Yura gave a long-suffering sigh, thinking all the while what a weirdo she must be talking to her brother about this. So she told him: Kyouya's avoidance and his seeming determination to keep her at a distance. Though more she talked, the more these things she noticed added foundation and stability to the fears she wished not to acknowledge. When she simply kept such thoughts to herself, she could brush it off as merely mild paranoia, over-analyzing, anxiety, anything. But the more she talked the more the convictions gathered solidity and it hurt. By the time she finished, she felt as if she was on the verge of tears and abhorred it.
Yuki didn't find her explanation very far-fetched though. He thought Kyouya had been behaving strangely when they had returned, but he took it for the youngest Ootori's droll way of keeping his feelings out of the observation of others.
"When did he start acting this way?"
She shrugged half-heartedly. "…Around the third night of our honeymoon."
"That long?!"
"Well, I guess he got what he wanted so there was no longer any reason for him to pretend..." she felt the tears gather, but refused to let them brim over. 'Ugh. This is fetching ridiculous.'
"Got what he...?" Yuki's face went red as it sunk in. "You mean he started acting this way after...?"
"I said I guess."
"..So then... you're not sure...? How can you not be sure?! Obviously you were there!...right?" he felt his face heat up even more; it never occurred to him how embarrassing it would be having this kind of conversation with his sister.
"I'm saying I am not sure because I don't really remember what went on after we got home on the second night from dinner, I was drunk and-"
"YOU WERE DRUNK?! WHAT THE PERDITION WAS OOTORI THINK HE WAS DOING GIVING YOU ALCOHOL?!"
She unplugged her ears. "He didn't get me drunk...on purpose. It was my fault, I ate his dessert."
"His dessert?"
"Yes, tiramisu. I didn't know they soak it in rum."
Yuki barely stifled a snort. "You got drunk off tiramisu? And here I thought you were okay with alcohol."
"Shut up. I digress. The point is I was drunk, I think he was drunk and everything about the second night and third morning is a blank to me."
Yuki was more puzzled now. As calculating as Kyouya was, he was sure he wasn't doing this without reason. After all the trouble he watch the man go through just to get this girl a ring...he couldn't believe all that was an act.
"So where is he now?"
"On a business trip, he left last week."
Yuki nodded and decided to change the subject, resolved going to have a lengthy conversation with his new brother-in-law when he got back.
Fortunately for Yuki, Kyouya arrived a few hours later, tired and missing Yura more than he liked. He figured being away from her would calm him enough to at least be around her, but it seemed to do the exact opposite.
'Distance makes the heart grow fonder...'
He scoffed aloud at the passing thought.
Walking into the parlor, he stopped dead in his tracks to see Yura with a tray heading towards the stairs. She caught sight of him in her peripheral vision and an awkward silence ensued as they stared at one another, quite desperately wishing themselves someplace else.
"Welcome back." Yura forced a smile, determined to make it seem like his arrival didn't bother or concern her in the least.
"I'm home." he said, loosening his tie, walking with his eyes closed. He wondered why now of all times she decided to wear the shorts Hikaru and Kaoru had bought for her.
"How was the trip?"
He walked past her, the scent of lavender knocking him in the face.
"Fine."
"I see."
"I have some work to finish. Just have dinner sent to my office."
"Alright."
She clutched the tray where the tea set rested to avoid chucking it at his receding figure. Kyouya clenched the fist holding his tie to stop himself from going back down the steps and doing something he might or might not regret.
Yura went back into her study and let the tray drop on the table with a loud clang. It was then she realized her brother was nowhere to be found.
'Where did he...?'
She looked down to see a note on her desk:
Will be back soon, just going to have a little chat ;)
Yura scratched her head for a few minutes before it dawned on her what he meant. 'But how...when...? He just...' She sighed and leaving the tea tray on the desk, went to the bedroom.
Kyouya let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding when he got into his office. The scent of lavender still lingered in his head and the smell of books, paper, and ink never seemed so disagreeable to him as it did now. He swerved the custom leather chair, with every intention of collapsing on it. He jumped to see a familiar face frighteningly resembling his wife's sitting in it, legs crossed and hands folded neatly in his lap.
"Welcome home, Ootori-onii-san." Yuki smiled sweetly.
"Good afternoon Komatsu-san." he said, instinctively suspicious as to why Yuki saw the need to be in his office.
"Oh come on, we're related now! You can least call me by my name. Onii-san."
Yuki's cheerful tone only succeeded in further unnerving Kyouya.
"...Is there something you wanted, Yuki-san?"
The cheerful smile got wider as he rose out of the chair, turning it to allow Kyouya to sit.
"Yes, I just wanted to see how you guys were getting on. Yura says you're quite busy with work lately."
Kyouya pushed up his glasses. "Yes, it seems there was quite a back up from the two weeks I took off."
"I see, I see. That would fully explain why you're shunning your wife like the plague then."
Kyouya felt guilt stab him in the chest before observing Yuki, who was still smiling cheerfully.
"Now. Ootori-onii-san. You're a reasonable, level-headed person. So I'll give you a chance to explain, seeing as I did warn you that I WOULD kill you in cold blood if you ever made her cry." he spoke as happily as ever, cracking his knuckles all the while.
Kyouya felt the stab go deeper, sharper.
'She's crying...'
He removed his glasses and covered his eyes with his hand. Yuki stared, not expecting that reaction out of him. With anger abated and curiosity roused, he placed a hand on Kyouya's shoulder and waited until he made eye contact with him before asking.
"...What really happened on that second night...?"
Kyouya informed him of what happened that was all a blank to his sister. By the time he finished, Yuki was shaking his head, tears trailing down his face. They were both silent for some time.
"You know, I never wanted to dwell on the thought that she might have went beyond anything but beating Yumiko..."
"So did I, but after that night I have had to consider the worst."
"...I'm sorry, Ootori-onii-san, I guess I should have thought about more it before-"
"There is no reason to apologize. Perhaps completely avoiding her was not the best plan. I just figured it would be safer this way, that is all."
"...So...you're ignoring her...so you won't be...enticed..?"
Kyouya suddenly found his desk far more interesting to look at than anything else at that moment.
"In a sense, yes."
Yuki hunched over, a low chuckling turning into a fully audible fit of giggling. He checked himself when he caught the glare of death on his brother-in-law's face.
"Sorry, sorry. It's just...it's amazing how different it all seems now."
Kyouya expressed his bewilderment by usual inclination: one raised eyebrow.
Yuki wiped his eyes. "She thinks you want nothing to do with her now that you and I quote: 'got what you wanted'.
It was probably the first and only time he had ever seen the cool man blush, though it was hardly discernible. His eyes diverted as he appeared to be trying to get his mind to wrap around the idea. Involuntarily, his head slightly shook, brow furrowed.
"Why would I marry her just for that?"
Yuki gave him a pointed look.
"You'd be surprised how common that is. Not everyone believes marriage is binding or that there is such a thing as love."
'I am aware of that all too well.' Kyouya continued to shake his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Yuki watched the distress, deep down in his heart glad that Kyouya was earnest when it came to her.
"This needs to end…" was the only thing Yuki could distinguish among the business man's mumbling. He got up and slipped on the rimless specs, startling Yuki by his abruptness. "I am going to go talk to her." he walked briskly to the door.
"Now?!" Yuki almost bellowed in disbelief, both shocked yet pleased with his quick decisiveness.
"Yes, before it festers anymore." with that last discordant line he close the door behind him, leaving a smiling younger brother-in-law leaning on his large oak wood desk.
"Well, I'll take my leave..."
"Yura, we need to talk."
Yura's head shot up. Kyouya sounded determined and the last thing she expected was for him to walk through the door of their bedroom. Despite his vigor, he didn't catch Yura's reflexive response so she had time to turn her attention back to her knitting, feigning not to know he existed.
Kyouya slowed as he reached the nook where Yura was sitting with a half-made scarf resting on her lap, the yarn threatening to fall off the round table. This seemed to be one of times Kyouya had no choice but to be patient. Knowing now how she saw the situation, he was aware her apparent indifference was just the way she coped. So he simply stood by the table as Yura finished up a row.
'Since when does she know how to knit?' the thought crossed him as she rested the connected sticks on her lap before looking up. He cringed inwardly at her standoffish expression, her eyes seemed to have darkened in color and he found himself ashamed to have let this get so bad.
"Yura, we need to talk." he repeated.
She gestured for him to sit, which he refused.
"Do you remember what happened that night?" Kyouya asked, wanting to get straight to the point and assuming she knew what he meant. Her face was pure confusion, before it dawned on her what he was talking about. She didn't think her brother was going to be talking with him about that already.
"...Not really..." she responded hesitantly, a bit afraid as to where this was going.
"You were drunk."
She nodded.
He took the chair previously refused and placed it in front of her, at a distance where their knees almost touched.
"Do you remember us going into the bedroom to drink?
"...vaguely...I...gave you my last glass?" trying out the blurry image she saw in her head.
"Yes, do you know what happened after that?"
She thought about it for a long while, before shaking her head. He leaned in, placed his hands on her face and kissed her.
"Do you remember now?"
She moved back and she shook her head again, more confused than before. He leaned in again, this time kissing her neck. He felt the muscles in Yura's neck tense; she grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him back.
"What are you-?"
"You do not remember?"
"You kissing me on the neck?! NO!" her volume ran a bit high from alarm.
"You remember nothing after you gave me that glass?"
Her voice became small. "...no...?"
He put his head in his hands.
"Kyouya-senpai, what is it?" she was getting tired of all the random questions. She felt bad enough as it was not be able to recall what happened. She didn't need him pointing it out to her so many times.
"If I tell you now, you would hardly believe me..." she heard faintly.
'Was it really so bad...did I do something or...?' Then something was brought fore front to her mind. "This...wouldn't have to do with the...broken ceramic I found on the bathroom floor, would it?" she asked, terrified now as she had an idea what might of happened.
Kyouya's head rising only deepened her fears."You saw that...?" it didn't even occur to him that the shards had remained on the floor.
She nodded cautiously.
"Yes, it does."
Kyouya felt his chest grow tight as Yura's eyes bugled while her knitting fell off her lap and she rested her elbow on the table, covering her face with her hand. She sighed, and then was still.
"What happened senpai...?" her tone was flat.
"You had seemed to...recall something and had a...panic attack, so to speak."
Kyouya wished she would cry, groan, or even scream at this point, finding Yura's dispassionate nodding highly nerve-racking than anything else. They both remained silent before she asked: "Did I…?"
"No. I thought you did. Your left arm was in the tub and it was filled with water...I checked, but found nothing..."
Another calm nod.
"Were you kissing me when the"...she clenched her teeth for moment, but finally settled with, "panic attack happened?"
Kyouya cleared his throat.
"Yes."
Yura shook her head. She took a deep breath and let it out unevenly, shaking, before moving her hand from her face. Her eyes shined with unshed tears.
"I'm really, very sorry."
He opened his arms. She stalled, but got up, resting her forehead on his shoulder as he embraced her.
"There is no need for you to apologize."
"But I-"
"Hush, Yura." the way he said it was brusque but still had a warmth to it Yura could detect.
She kept silent.
He relished the feeling of her in his arms. Yura repositioned herself a bit so that her chin was on the top of his shoulder, feeling like a complete idiot for not being able to even remember the actions she was apologizing for. Even with being told, memory seemed intent on giving her nothing but clouded pictures and phrases which she went through, trying to decipher and make sense of.
While this confusion was going on in her head, Kyouya was trying to bury the growing urge to trail kisses along her neck. He knew very well it was something he shouldn't be doing; Yura was still processing what happened. Not to mention the possibility of her relapsing if he repeated the action that brought on her 'attack' now that she was aware of it. Yet, with her scent filling his nostrils and her being so still and seemingly not showing signs of moving anytime soon, it became too tempting with said neck pressed against his cheek. So he hazarded one kiss on the base of it, where he could feel the pulse of her jugular. As he anticipated, her neck grew strained and she pulled away from him, her hand over where he had just put his lips.
"Why do you keep doing that?" she tried to glare at him to hide her agitation. All she got was a shrug in response. She got up and picked up her knitting before heading out the door, much to Kyouya's chagrin.
She stopped by the door frame and sunk to the ground as she felt her hot face and tried to consciously still her racing heart.
'What the blazes is wrong with me?'
Yura headed back to her study and tried to knit again, but her hands shook, so she tried reading. She skipped dinner that night as she tried to not think about the afternoon.
The next day Yura awoke to an empty king size bed. Thinking Kyouya had woken up earlier to get work done on this rainy Saturday, she fell back unto the mattress for a few more minutes, trying to subside the feeling of vertigo. After some time, Yura got up and headed towards the bathroom. With her eyes barely cracked open, it wasn't a surprise to Kyouya that she didn't see him come out of the shower. However, he didn't think she would choke on the toothpaste in her mouth from seeing him in the reflection. Yura whipped around, her eyes trailed down, only to fly back up. She turned back to the sink.
'Why does he not have a towel on?!' she heard his footsteps come closer to her and she swallowed a scream and some toothpaste when she saw his arm brush past her to grab the towel on the edge of the basin.
"Good morning." Kyouya said as lightheartedly as he could, though it was in actuality one in the afternoon. Yura only nodded, keeping her eyes in the opposite direction.
He sighed, a bit exasperated.
'And so she turns into a heap of nerves...'
She risked a glance to find Kyouya face etched with
disapproval?
disappointment?
frustration?
"Did you s-sleep well?" she stammered out before getting an odd sense of déjà-vu. Kyouya didn't deigned to respond, only watched as Yura quickly brushed her teeth while he dried his hair with another towel, sensing her wanting to get out the bathroom as soon as possible. As she rested the mouthwash back into the medicine cabinet, he grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around to face him. Her breathing hitched and Yura wondered briefly if she was starting to have an asthma attack. Because it sure as deuce felt like one.
She didn't move as Kyouya stared at her awhile before wrapping his wet body around her frame, resting his hands on her lower back. Afraid Kyouya might feel her rapid pace of a heartbeat at the proximity, the young wife tried to create a little distance. Kyouya wasn't having it.
He moved back only enough to kiss her, which grew in intensity as his mind dwelt on the fact that yesterday was the only time since they had returned from their honeymoon that he had touched her, besides carrying her across the threshold. She responded, but her mind was filled with anxiety as she feared where this might lead.
It never fully occurred to her until yesterday how psychologically and emotionally unready she was for...that. When they had left for their honeymoon she figured she would just get it over with before reality caught up with her or be drunk when it happened, but now being pressed up against the cold bathroom wall, fully sober, with a warm, firm, wet body pressed against her made her feel light-headed and a jumble of emotions she couldn't place. She realized at that moment what a hypocrite she had been all this time; talking so calmly about such things only to be on the verge of hysteria now that it actually seemed possible. Kyouya, whether sensing her anxiety or going along with what he had planned eventually pulled away; he was bit surprised to feel her trembling and the appearance of fright on her face.
He sighed.
She gulped.
His hands were now leveled on the wall with her head so he felt the brush of hair as she slipped away, but he made no move to detain her. He simply walked out the bathroom to see her gathering her things for her bath. He got dressed when he heard the door shut, only putting on a pair of black sweatpants and a blue arm-less top as he turned on his laptop and began to type. An hour later, she came out of the bathroom, in a small purple towel, her cheeks red and vibrant from hot water.
He looked back at the screen and hit the backspace button, correcting the nonsense he had just typed. She went through various drawers before heading back to the bathroom and coming out a second time fully dressed.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as she fixed the sheets on the bed, laid on it and took a book out of the drawer of her night stand. When he pressed save and closed the laptop, he focused his full attention on her to see what book she was reading. He walked over to the bed in time to see her put the Bible away, mumbling something to herself as she did so.
"What book were you reading?"
All the fright he had seen earlier appeared washed away by her shower. She smiled.
"Psalms."
He nodded.
"Have you ever read the Bible senpai?"
"Yes, when I was younger, though I do not remember much of it."
"Would you read it now?"
He looked at her awhile before answering: "Perhaps."
The atmosphere seemed almost strained and unpleasant. Kyouya sighed for the third time already, deciding to dispel the mood.
"Yura, you can relax, I am not going to do anything to you."
She jumped. Then her shoulders sagged, but he could tell she didn't quite believe him. He turned to her and looked her square in the face, placing his hand on his cheek. She began to calm by degrees.
"W-Why did you do that?"
"Do what?"
She bit her lip as her face tinged before mumbling, "...earlier...in the bathroom..?"
Kyouya's face remained docile.
"Because I felt like it."
He smirked mentally as he watched the color leave her face and the frown deepened.
"Do I look like some object you can just kiss and feel up when the mood hits you?" she asked, glaring a little.
"No, but last time I checked" He lifted her left hand. The two rings seem to spitefully gleam in the light, "you are my wife."
The blush came back, this time from indignation and she snatched her hand away. He was aware this wasn't going to help at all, but couldn't seem to let the opportunity of teasing her pass by.
"You did not have a problem with me sleeping on you a few months ago."
She huffed. "I'm used to that. Yuki did that a lot when we were younger."
He raised an eyebrow.
'That is why...?'
He moved closer and put her to lie down on her side before placing his head on her chest, not breaking eye contact with her all the while. She showed no reaction, her face gave no indication except a slight twitch of her eye from the pressure of his head. His eyes narrowed.
"You have no qualms with this."
"I just told you I-."
'How about this then…'
He pulled down her shirt, exposing her sternum before placing a kiss on it. He heard the sharp intake of breath before she began struggling to get away from him.
The living room of the Ootori residence had the two sole occupants having dinner, which was of course take out, both of them being too tired to cook. Kyouya wasn't sure whether to be frustrated, amused, or just not care anymore. He looked up from the plate he was eating from to see Yura reclining on the couch, one hand on her stomach while her arm was over her eyes. She appeared to be asleep, but he could tell by her breathing she wasn't. He had honestly expected her to be hesitant after what happed in France, but not outright running away from him. Though he would never admit to her, it hurt his feelings a little to see her scurrying from him like he had a disease or something.
He was so deep in thought; he was startled by his phone going off in his pocket. Without even glancing at the caller ID he answered, he knew the obnoxious ringtone could be only one person.
"What is it Tamaki?"
"Is that how you greet people when they call you mon ami?! That's so rude!"
Kyouya grimaced. His train of thought already had him in a bad mood so Tamaki calling did not in any way help at moment.
"Hello, what do you want, Tamaki?" he repeated between gritted teeth, rationalizing that if he complied he would be able to get off the phone sooner.
"I was going to invite you and Yura-chan to dinner tomorrow, but now I don't feel I should." Tamaki whined, hurt by his best friend's discourtesy.
"Then don't." he replied in biting acridity, seeing Yura getting up off the couch and coming over to him after hearing him say Tamaki's name.
"Wah! Haruhi! Kyouya's being mean!" he heard something like the phone being dropped then a shuffle and a sigh before hearing Haruhi apologize.
"I have to seriously wonder sometimes what convinced you to marry that idiot." Kyouya was still angry, but the jest could be heard.
"Some days I wonder that myself." Haruhi shook her head as she looked over at her husband, who was currently in a spotlight, hugging Antoinette. "I suggested you guys come over for dinner since we haven't seen you in awhile. The twins and the others have been over quite often, but every time I asked Yura, she tells me you're at work or busy."
Kyouya looked over at her. She shrugged, not sure why he was looking at her. What she told Haruhi was true yet she felt as if she had been caught lying just by his expression. Still looking at her, Kyouya replied they would love to come over, giving a day and time. Both Haruhi and Yura grew edgy at his light reply, feeling the ominous sinister swirl beneath it.
'I am really glad I was only on the phone.' Haurhi thought as she hung up, tapping Tamaki on the shoulder and giving him back his phone. He took it, still pouting, but when Haruhi kissed him on the cheek, he blushed before getting up and allowing her to lead him into the kitchen for a late dinner.
Kyouya snapped the phone shut. "So, Haruhi has been calling you about having dinner?" he placed the hand that held his phone on his cheek.
She nodded, sensing danger, though unsure why. She casually as possible moved back to the couch she was lying on and plopped down on it.
He got up and moved over to her, sitting down in the couch next to her. She moved away a few inches. He closed the space she made.
"Yes and what of it?" she asked stiffly, moving over some more.
"And you could not let me know because…?" he moved closer.
"Because you were busy." she rose from the couch, Kyouya's moving really starting creep her out. "What the fetch?"
"Since when did you become my secretary? Why are you rejecting dinner offers for me?"
"It seems to have slipped your mind that until yesterday, we weren't exactly talking to one another." Yura turned her head away from him, crossing her arms.
Kyouya's shoulders slumped.
"I don't know what you're getting so upset about." Yura continued.
"You are right."
Yura stared at Kyouya, uncrossing her arms.
"…What?"
"You are right. I apologize."
He got up and stood in front of her. Yura looked him over to make sure it was Kyouya Ootori before her and not some well made clone.
"Perhaps, we should start by having dinner, just the two of us."
"But I can't cook now. I have an essay due-"
"That is what personal chefs in the gourmet kitchen are for."
"But-"
"You would rather do something else?"
Yura nodded bashfully.
"And what might that be?"
Yura shifted her weight from one foot to another, flexing her fingers to crack them. She found her black slippers comforting to watch.
"Watch a movie…and maybe have an early dinner afterwards?"
"At home?"
"…At home."
Kyouya chuckled.
"Consider it done."
Chapter 38 next!
Love and Peace.