I think I was quick to write this chapter
Haruhi sat on the wooden bench outside the Ouran high school and opened her lunchbox. Part of her felt disappointed not to see the hunky second-year student, and part of her didn't care, because she was hungry. Her green knitted jacket didn't keep her entirely warm as her teeth were chattering loudly. The wind managed to slither through the fabric and prickle her skin. She shifted uncomfortably, leaning against the bench, trying to hide from the whips of the cold air that coloured her cheeks rosy pink.
She started to eat in silence, carefully chewing the food in her mouth. The peace was soothing. She felt a little tired and overwhelmed. The school had gone crazy as everyone was preparing for the host club's ball. She had promised Renge-chan to go for shopping and help her to pick the perfect dress. The prospects scared Haruhi a little, but a promise was a promise.
She heard footsteps and raised her head alarmed. It was Ootori Kyoya, looking at her with a mixed expression on his face. Her face brightened up seeing him. She couldn't explain why she felt so excited, but the feeling lingered in her mind and then headed to her stomach, making her feel all tingly and warm inside. He had paused in his tracks and was staring at her, as if unsure what to do next. She stood up mechanically and waved at him.
"Ootori-senpai," she called. "I am glad to see you. I already thought you wouldn't come."
"You were waiting for me," he said surprised, and lowering the book in his hand, walked towards her. "I don't want you to think that I came here because I want your blood."
It shouldn't have made a difference, but his words made her feel crestfallen, as if he had just broken her heart, "So, you have already eaten?" she clarified, as he came forward and sat on the bench, as far from her as physically was possible. He put the book in his lap and turned to face her. His glassy eyes sent chills down her spine. She tugged at her jacket, trying to get it closer to her body.
"I didn't," he said with a little caution, "but that doesn't mean you are obligated to give me your blood. I didn't think I would find you sitting here. I intended to read a book."
She stared at the book. It was another novel by Hiroki Hirayama. She loved reading the previous book that he had left behind. Haruhi cleaned her throat with discomfort and raising her eyes to his face, swallowed her lower lip. Does that mean that he doesn't want her blood or he just didn't want to bother her? She reasoned the best way to find out was to ask straightforwardly.
"I don't feel obligated," she explained, glancing at him. "I don't mind you having some of it unless you think it was not tasty."
He gave her a look; an intense, excruciating look as if she had just ripped his heart out of his chest. She blinked confused by his strong reaction and retreated until her back collided with the wooden backrest of the frozen bench. He looked away, and the expression on his face receded. It looked like he was weighing something in his mind.
"Your blood is very sweet," he finally said, slumping his shoulders forward as he spoke. "Sweeter than any other I have ever had, but it's your blood, and I have no intention to guilt or convince you into sharing it with me. That would be unethical."
He pronounced the last word with slight disgust, and the corners of his mouth turned upwards. Haruhi felt her heart pang in her chest with great exhilaration; it was as if she was content to hear he had liked her blood. Everything about this guy made her feel in a way that she found really silly when she reasoned rationally. The wind blew towards them and whipped his hair against his face. He brushed his hair back with his long slender fingers, and Haruhi noticed his eyes behind the glasses. Those eyes were fierce and promising. She shifted in her place as he caught her gaze.
"I can't believe I am convincing you to have my blood," she laughed nervously and looked away towards the school that glittered brightly in the grey, lifeless background. "As I said it's just blood, and it really doesn't bother me to share with you."
"You gain nothing doing this," he said with a sigh, "so why do you do it?"
"Should we only do things that gain us something?" she asked confused. "Sometimes people just help each other without any expectations."
She heard a small smothered laugh leaving his lips as if he found the idea deceptive, but amusing. She narrowed her eyes in annoyance. She couldn't understand this guy at all. How he was drinking any blood with his mindset was beyond her. Did he complain every time he had to consume his food? Or did he try not to and that's why he was so weak the other day? She didn't know him, but she could tell that he was from a rich family, and there shouldn't have been any difficulty for him to obtain blood. That meant that he deliberately wasn't having any. There wasn't any other explanation. His reluctance made her even more convinced, and she frowned.
"Ootori-senpai," she said slowly, "I don't mind at all for you to have some of my blood. It's not like you had too much, and my blood recovers very quickly. I don't lose it forever. So don't worry about that, I am not feeling guilty or even obligated. I unintentionally happened to learn about your condition, and I think it would be best for everyone if you had blood. After all, there is nothing wrong with having a strange diet. All people are different with different circumstances."
"And how long can that last?" he said with a sigh, flipping the page of the book now without looking at her.
"You can have every day," she smiled. "I don't mind to meet here for lunch."
He looked at her again. This was getting crazy. The girl whose blood made his ears ring and body sing in excitement wanted to share her blood with him every day. His heart skipped a beat as he closed the book abruptly, taking in her soft appearance. Her shoulder length hair was waving in the air and ushering her smell towards him. His lungs burnt as he inhaled her alluring aroma. He closed his eyes, trying to resist. He wasn't in need of blood, the little amount he had drunk yesterday was so strong that his body felt very alive, and his heart raced. But even when he felt healthy, his senses couldn't withstand the temptations her blood was whispering enticingly.
He sharply breathed as his body stiffened, and Adrenalin rushed through his veins. His pupils dilated, and the desire flexed his muscles. He didn't move, just stared at her, trying to hold back his lust for her blood. Her pheromones coated his senses and clouded his brain in strange soothing warmth. He had never experienced anything like this, and for a short second his body responded with apprehension. Then her smell or whatever else it was comforted his nerves and palliated all the suspicion that crossed his mind.
His eyes wandered on her neck, and he noticed the small bandage still covering the wounds left by his fangs. "Does it hurt?" he asked sharply, "your neck?"
She reached the wound and brushed her fingers against the bandage, "No," she said, "I actually wanted to ask you if there was any reason why it healed so fast."
She undid the bandage, and Kyoya's eyes widened as he saw the red dots on her neck. They were healing, still red, but there was no hole―her skin had recovered. "It was very deep, and I was surprised to see the broken skin had repaired so quickly. Did it happen before with others?"
It didn't, and he was confused to see her neck with no harm other than the bright redness. Maybe she was recovering fast. Some organisms were quick like that.
"I don't think so," he said. "You might just have a healthy body that is quick to have collagen grow its fibers and close the wound."
She smiled, "Then there shouldn't be much problem," she stretched her arm forward.
Kyoya stared at her and then grabbing her wrist, rolled up the sleeve of her jacket and the sweater underneath. Exposing her soft skin to the cold air, he leaned down and bit next to her previous wound that was still bandaged. His fangs smoothly penetrated her skin, until the blood seeped into his mouth, coating his taste receptors and even though he had failed digestive system, his mouth watered with saliva, and her delicious blood dissolved in it, leaving his mind numb in pleasure. His surrounding blurred and faded completely as the warmth of her blood consumed him. Kyoya twirled his tongue in his mouth and shuddered as papillae welcomed her taste.
He drunk her blood, and with every sip, his body trembled in delight. His muscles came alive. His limbs felt hot and resilient. His nose was close to her skin, and he could devour her captivating smell that diminished any other smell around. Kyoya closed his eyes. He forgot about everything. This was not just food; it was some sort of soothing medicine for his worries.
This experience was so madly intimate that when he broke his touch and removed his fangs, he felt a strange vibration pass between them. She looked slightly pale, and he detected awe in her eyes. She had strange glasses on that looked quite a bit big for her, but he could see her coffee-coloured orbs. They were pretty. She didn't withdraw her hand, and he bent his head to lick the blood that pooled around her wounds.
Kyoya felt unnaturally strong and relaxed, today even more than he did yesterday. He held her hand for a few seconds, and they looked at each other in silence. Her taste was still on his lips, and her smell in his nose; so very satisfying. Her cheeks were rosy, and her lips had parted.
"I think I will be late for my class, Ootori-senpai," she said, pulling her hand.
"Call me by my first time," he requested not because he thought that would be more appropriate given their newly formed strange relationship, but because he wanted to hear his name from her lips. "Haruhi."
"K-kyoya-senpai," she said slowly and nodded with a smile. "See you tomorrow."
She attached another bandage to the new wound and taking her belongings, run towards the school. He needed to leave for his classes too. His body felt happy, and the anticipation of tomorrow and meeting her again curved a small smile on his face. Suddenly a small glint of light appeared in his life when he least expected it.
He stared after her leaving figure. Haruhi ran towards the school in complete bewildered over what just happened, what she had promised, and how strangely content she was about it all. Seeing Renge-chan's excited face in the classroom, made Haruhi frown though. The redhead had plans that were going to be torturous for her.
"Where were you?" the girl demanded, clearly upset that Haruhi left without saying a word. "You look kind of red. Were you outside, freezing?"
"You know I don't like staying at school during the lunch," Haruhi smiled, hoping Renge wouldn't question her any further.
"Oh well, doesn't matter," she smirked, "after classes you are mine."
That sounded like a threat. And it was in its own way one, because when the school was over she dragged the poor commoner into extravagant boutiques to pick up a dress for the ball. Haruhi felt out of her comfort zone in these highly sophisticated shops, where the chandeliers even glittered like gold and made the stupidest things look expensive. Renge-chan was trying dresses like they were some candies. Haruhi didn't get what the fuss was about. It was just a ball.
"Don't you dare to stand there and look so uninterested," her quirky friend was complaining. "I have invited Mori-senpai to the ball, and he had agreed. You can't just leave me alone and not chaperone me there."
"I have agreed to come with you," Haruhi confirmed, feeling like the girl would explode any moment, "I just don't see the need to get a dress, especially when they are so expensive."
"You are so difficult," Renge huffed and went on to try another one.
She didn't have the money to afford anything this store had, but she was sure that even if she was rich enough to afford, she wouldn't buy something as expensive. Clothing was clothing, and there was no point to pay insane amounts of money for something as trivial as appearance. As if it mattered how the dress looked, as long as it kept her warm and was comfortable. Funny enough the comfort level of all of these overpriced gowns was directly proportional to their ridiculous prices. In other words, pay money to feel awful, because someone might think you look better that way.
"So how do I look?" Renge emerged, opening the door of the dressing room.
It was a puffy, pink dress with frills and bows all over the skirt. Haruhi thought she was going to faint. She shook her head. "Something more tight fitting and less complicated would suit you more," she said, not knowing where the words came from.
"Maybe that red dress will look good on you," she added, pointing at a dress in a corner.
Renge stared at the said dress, and a wave of excitement passed through her features. She rushed forward and grabbed it, shifting it around, she gave Haruhi a thumbs up and run back to the dressing room. Haruhi sighed and leaned back against the wall. She had so much homework to do, and here she was picking up dresses with the crazy Otaku. She rubbed her bandaged arm and winced. It hurt. His concentrated face came to her mind, and Haruhi became thoughtful.
"So...?" Renge interrupted her musings, "How do I look? Will Mori-senpai lose his mind if he sees me in this dress?"
The dress was a delicate one, with a rather conservative cut on the chest, hiding, but emphasizing the girl's plump chest. It flowed down the floor and showed all the curves the redhead had. It suited her, and the colour went well with her skin tone and hair. Haruhi smiled.
"I am sure Mori-senpai will be impressed," she encouraged her.
Renge grinned like a maniac and shut the door to the dressing room. Haruhi breathed relieved. The mission accomplished. Renge Houshakuji found her perfect dress for the Host Club's weird ball. Soon the redhead walked out of the fitting room and headed straight to the register to pay for it. Haruhi's face wrinkled in astonishment when she learnt the price, but as long as Renge-chan was happy, she didn't have any protests.
"A few more days," she whispered, pressing the bag against her chest, "and I will be dancing with Mori-senpai."
Renge clapped excitedly and then turned to face Haruhi. "Aren't you looking forward to the ball, Haru-chan?"
Haruhi didn't want to lie, but the question begged her to do so. She pursed her lips and shook her head, "I hope it will be fun."
"Of course, it will be," Renge curled her lips, "If Mori is there, everything will be perfect. I am just concerned about you."
"Don't worry I will come," Haruhi reassured her. "I know you will straighten my legs if I don't, so don't worry."
The following week went uneventful for Haruhi. Renge-chan constantly gushed about how perfect Mori-senpai was and how much she wanted to kiss him. She talked on and on during the breaks, and Haruhi started to imagine what it was like to be in love. She doubted it was anything like what Renge-chan was experiencing, but maybe a bit of that only subdued and mild. The classes were fine as well. She didn't get too much homework, as the teachers knew that the students were busy preparing for the ball and didn't have the time for such "worthless" things.
Since she had promised Kyoya-senpai to meet every day for lunch, she did so. He was always there on the bench in the Ouran garden, waiting for her. Her heart contracted in her chest every time she saw him there. He was attractive she supposed, but she was sure she liked something else about him. There was something about him that made her feel different. She loved to sit with him and eat her lunch, while he was just staring at her. They would always talk about something unimportant. He was reluctant to answer her questions, but the conversations about books were quite pleasant to have. They both shared an affection for Hiroki Hirayama's works. He had even lent her a copy of the author's recent novel which Haruhi was reading with great enthusiasm.
The wounds from his bites were recovering quite fast. She got a few on her arm, but as it was winter her clothes covered them, and nobody had any questions for her. She still wondered how could they heal so fast, but was glad they didn't linger too long. At the end of the weak, the bite marks on her neck were faint rosy dots that were about to fade completely. When the ball date approached, it became nearly impossible to walk in the school and not hear someone raving about their dance partners. Everyone was very much busy, preparing for it.
A/N-What do you think about this chapter? Do you like how the story has progressed so far? Please leave me your thoughts.