Chapter 7

(Disclaimer: I do not own anything)

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(Last time, on Twin Devils) As I got ready for my date that night, the twins lounged out on my bed like a pair of Cheshire cats. They critiqued everything I suggested like some critical judges. I sighed, "You guys make me not want to date."

"Good," Kaoru said.

"You should only want to date us," Hiker agreed.

I rolled my eyes, getting back to trying on clothes.

Walking out in a tank top and some shorts, I got the following responses:

Kaoru: No, no, no. Totally inappropriate. Way too cute for a date.

Me: Guys, I would like actually look a little cute on my date-

Hikaru: Not acceptable at all. Only we are to witness the cuteness of Haruhi.

Eventually we decided on a nice black sweater and some regular jeans. Kaoru growled, "That punk better not hurt you."

Hikaru sighed. "How is it that you still look totally cute even without trying?"

I felt myself blush slightly at the comment, probably just because it was hot under the turtleneck. The doorbell rang, making us all jump.

Kaoru jumped up, marching to the door, "I'll show him a piece of my mind."

Chuckling at his protectiveness, I turned to Hikaru who had stood in front of me now, causing me to look up at him. He reached out and grabbed my hand, bending down and kissing my forehead slowly. The motion was so foreign and unpredictable I just stood there and let him do whatever he wanted. His lips were so warm against my skin, and soft like I had guessed. Bringing his arm around my waist, he pulled me into a crushing hug, resting his chin on my head as he forced my face into his warm chest.

He smelled strongly of honeysuckle, which made me want to melt into him further. He squeezed my hand, kissed my temple, then whispered lowly, "Just come home safe."

By the time that I opened my eyes, he was out of the room to leave me staring after him in a daze. Taking a deep breath, I steadied myself for my date.

A date with Death.

o0o

I took a deep breath, my clothes suddenly ten times heavier than before. I knew that it was just in my head, that my clothes couldn't actually gain any weight in a short period of time, but right now, I honestly couldn't add two and two. My muscles started to feel as thick as syrup, and my limbs like they had been heavy with lead, and I walked through the room, it was like wading through tar. The grandfather clock in the hall struck the hour, its face sneering as it chimed eight loud times, its pendulum swinging like it was sticking its tongue out at me. Then it hit me. He was early. That little devil. The little devil is down there with my twin devils and the White Devil… I have a lot of devils in my life.

Finally, I reach the railing and look over it. I spot Jaga and an iciness enters my veins that certainly hadn't been there before then. Time ticked slower and all I could think about was how much I wanted this date to be over. Forcing my legs to walk, I slowly made my way to the stairs and took each step carefully on the large flight. Why do rich people have so many stairs? What's the point? Do rich people determine their wealth by flaunting how many flights of stairs or unused guest rooms they have? It all seems kind of pointless to me, but right now I wanted to put as much distance between myself and Jaga as I could.

Reaching the final step, I found myself releasing a breath that I didn't know I'd been holding until then. Walking down the long carpet towards the foyer, I felt all of their eyes on my body, the itch you get behind your back and in between your shoulder blades when you feel someone watching you, but I couldn't bring myself to return any of their gazes. Stepping closer to the group of them, I slowly lifted my eyes to observe the area around me.

The maids were in the kitchen, leaning over the counter and watching with their always nonchalant identical gazes. Their eyes flicked up and down, observing this new person who had stepped into the Hitachiin manor unannounced. Switching their focus to me, they perked up, the unknown event peeking their interest. Mr. Hitachiin was at the kitchen table at the head, legs crossed as he relaxed in the chair, reading his newspaper in a carefree way. Even though he acted like he was more invested in the paper than he was in our unusual meeting. I could see his eyes drift on our guest and us more and more. He cared, even if he didn't want to act like it. The twins stood exactly ten feet away from Jaga, their eyes in slits as they examined him, teeth bared in sneers and their hair pointed. In that moment, I imagined them as cats with fierce golden eyes slitted, teeth and claws extended in a mood, and hackles raised. My feisty feline warriors who acted fierce in battle. And they were going to protect me. And then, my eyes fell on Jaga.

There were many ways to describe him (dangerous, devious, deadly) but casual wasn't one of them. But that's the word I would use now, if rich people were capable of being casual. He had adorned a simple red shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Over that he had put on a silver vest with white skulls embroidered all through the silky fabric. The top few buttons of his shirt were undone to reveal his toned chest, his collarbones just peeking out. Hanging low on his hips were some fashionable blue jeans, that even commoners could afford, and he was walking in dark leather boots. His jade green oculars tore deep into me like jagged glass, his gaze unblinking and unnerving, like he was trying to find a way inside me and decrypt all my secrets. He had such an angular face, which would've been attractive, had he not sent me strange notes and threatened to kill me. His dark wavy hair was held back with the familiar green clip, which I had used to identify him. Arching his eyebrows, he smirked down at me, and I saw his resemblance to a jaguar in that instance. Like a jaguar that had waited so long in the tall grass, rolling back its shoulders, flicking its tail back and forth and staring as it ran its tongue over its sharp incisors before it finally cornered its prey. And around his neck, I saw a silver chain, and garnishing that just before it slipped under his shirt, it winked at me. It was a glittery skull. His smirk, which had faded into a smile, widened. He was the jaguar. He was the predator, and I was his prey. He was the predator, and I forced myself to stay.

"Haruhi," he greeted. The sound of his voice scared me, forcing me out of my shock like he had just shattered some sacred silence or something.

Taking all my energy to return his ever present gaze, I dipped my head, "Jaga."

He took a step forward on long legs, quickly closing the space between us. Flinching at how easily he had gotten so close, I had to gulp down the urge to take a few steps back as he pressed closer. After a second he was almost on top of me to the point that you could barely wedge a piece of paper between us. Even though our bodies were close, he went an extra mile and moved his head close to mine. Every breath he took sent warmth into my hair and I was close enough to inhale traces of the cologne he'd dabbed on, which smelled an awful lot like rustic dead flowers. I felt his body inch forward, soaking in the scent of me, and then just as quick he pulled away, smirking down at me from our close proximity. His eyes searched mine, and then he broke out into that wretched smirk again, "You smell nice."

I heard Hikaru growl behind me, and I pictured him shaking his fist angrily, "It's called get your face out of his hair or I'll punch you in the throat!"

Jaga released a low chuckle and looked at Hikaru, "Please now. This is no way to act in a room full of gentlemen. And I'm sure that Mr. Hitachiin would agree?"

Mr. Hitachiin looked up, "Oh, um, yes of course." He gave a smile, "Forgive me, I wasn't really listening to the conversation."

Jaga looked smug, glancing back at the twins now with a triumphant green gaze. Kaoru had his arms crossed, glaring at the dark headed boy, "Wouldn't you have to be a gentlemen in order for this to be a room full of gentlemen?"

For a second, Jaga looked down at his shirt, straightening the shoulder nonchalantly, "Oh, Kaoru, I think we both know that this isn't a room full of gentlemen." When he spoke, he put emphasis on the word men.

There was a wavering moment when the twins' eyes lost their regular confident sheen, and I saw a flash of fear before they recovered.

Checking his nails, Jaga released a sigh, "Well, we should be going now. Right Haruhi?"

"No touching, hand holding, hugging, or kissing on the first date," Kaoru said. "Hear that mister? You treat Haruhi like the, uh, man he deserves." He hesitated at the word man, casting a nervous glance towards his father.

Hikaru grabbed my chin, pulling it back so that he had my full attention, "And if you're not back by eleven o'clock, we'll play a penalty, got that?"

I nodded, and his warm fingers slipped away. Mr. Hitachiin folded his paper and laid it down on the table, standing as he made his way towards his two sons. He wrapped his arms around both of Hikaru and Kaoru's shoulders, pulling them close in a hug. "Now boys. Stop fretting over him. Haruhi is as capable of protecting himself as you two can, understand? Let the boy go out on his 'date' and let us leave him away, yes?"

Pulling away, Mr. Hitachiin gave me a small gentle hug. In my ear, he whispered, "If he gives you any trouble, young man, you call me." But when he pulled away, he just gave me a soft smile as he clapped me on the shoulder, speaking so that everyone could hear, "Have a fun time, Haruhi."

The twins crossed their arms as Jaga put an arm put an arm around my shoulder. He smirked back at them, "What? Don't look at me that way, you mother hens. You never said I couldn't put my arm around Haruhi."

"THAT WAS A PART OF TOUCHING!" They shouted in unison. "So stop touching!"

Jaga smirked, tightening his grip on me. Where his arm laid, a creeping sensation of ice now throbbed through my bones and shivered down my skin, "Geez, calm down. We might be back by eleven." And with that he whisked me outside before the twins could leave a comment.

Outside, a huge limo purred, long like the car should be, but the shape of a big Hummer. I'd never seen anything like it. Swerving me to the door, he actually opened it for me like a gentlemen. Climbing in, I got to see just how luxurious the inside was.

All of the seats were nice dark leather, lights from the sides, floors, and ceiling cast hazy red shadows onto the interior. A red flooring stretched out through the walkway, ghastly black skulls running through the carpet. Soft jazz music hummed through the speakers and into the back, which filled the entire space. Throughout the car were little outlets of tvs, food trays, wine selections, glasses, ice, and liquor.

He released a breathy chuckle, "Please stop gaping at my car. I was in a hurry and couldn't decide which car to bring so I chose the most dull one I could find, seeing as I wanted to appeal to your commoners taste."

I couldn't help but climb in, so astounded by the car that I decided to ignore that little comment about commoners, "This is dull to you people?" The seats were so plush as I sat and the music was so soothing. Then Jaga stepped inside, ruining my moment of happiness and with painstakingly clear view, I saw him shut the door after himself and lock it.

When he sat down, the sight struck me about how stupid I was. Right above his head rested a large gun case, just in reach. Each gun was red or black with a large crystal skull in the butt of them. The eyes glinted at me in macabre winks. Jaga put a few ice cubes in a glass before pouring a thick brown liquor in it. He extended the glass to me, "A drink, Miss Fujioka?"

I politely pushed his, shaking my head as I declined, sitting stiffly in the chair, "Sorry but I don't drink."

He smirked, sitting back, so relaxed and completely cool against the seat, stretched out, "Your loss." He took a drink, punching a button as he spoke into it. "Driver, get us to Tablu for our reservation. Take your time." After a second, the vehicle slowly rolled into life.

A thought occurred to me suddenly. I hadn't heard from the 'Friendly Society' in a while. They had gone kind of silent for the past few days. I looked over at Jaga, pursing my lips and looking over him, "So why do you work for those people?"

Taking a swig of his drink, he examined me over the rim of the glass, his eyes searching the depths of my face. Finally, he lowered the glass, his lips twisting up into a deadly smile, "You look pretty tonight. Did you pick out what you're wearing?"

I blinked, completely caught off guard by the question. Looking down, I found myself fingering the fabric of the sweater, "That doesn't answer my question."

He leaned his head back against the top of the seat so he had a very clear view of the gun rack above him, "Do you wanna know how I got the name 'The Jaguar?'"

I stared at him, unsure what to say to the question. Sitting up, he gazed down at the contents of his drink, "Most people think it's because of my looks." He released a low chuckle at that, "Looks that could kill. My father named me Jaga from the old Japanese word for 'Jaguar.' If only he knew how accurate that would be. You see, jaguars have this nasty habit of dragging their prey into a tree before they eat them. Well, if my father ever told me to get rid of somebody or I had to deal with traitors, I would simply break their legs and hang them up in a tree feet first of course.

"I use to wear these silver claws on my hands at the time, and I would reach up to their belt, and slowly drag the nail until it hit their throat," he put a hand at the base of his stomach, going slow until he reached his throat, finger pointed like a claw for emphasis. A low chuckle emitted from his throat, "Let's just say, my pet jaguar was fed well."

After he was finished telling the story, I looked away, closing my eyes, "Now will you answer my questions?"

I heard the clink of the glass as he tapped on it with his ring and the slow chuckle that bubbled up, "Patience now. The fun is just beginning."

o0o

When we pulled up, we were at a fancy restaurant by the name of Tablu. It was some sort of Italian restaurant, and I knew it was fancy because I'd never heard of it before. Honestly, I just wanted to get out of the vehicle. As soon as we pulled into the front space, Jaga set down his drink in a slot, standing to hold the door open for me. He had barely pushed the door open before I spilled out on the pavement to drink up the open night air gratefully. Behind, he stepped out, closing it and placing a hand on the door to close it. The car drove off. "That's funny," he said, coming up and tugging me close to put his arm around my shoulders. "It's almost like you're trying to get away from me, Haruhi?"

His breath tickled my ear and I flinched, pulling away, "That is funny, because that's exactly what I was trying to do."

Letting me slip through his fingers, he smirked, making a claw in his hand for emphasis, "Meow. Someone's acting catty tonight. I can already tell that this is going to be a fun date." His voice hit a serious tone, "Now get inside."
Giving me a slight push, I stumbled inside the large black doors. Inside was like a whole new world. There was low lighting, and what light did come through was in red shafts through the sides or walls. Straight ahead was a dark statue of a bull writhing in rage, hooves pawing endlessly tail flicked behind it, frozen in place as its head was tilted slightly to the left, muscles teeming and tensed in the fierce position. A matador stood at the bull's side, sweeping his arms in a grand flourish as the bull's horn barely missed him, holding his sword in one hand. Only now did I see that the bull's hide was littered with multicolored knives, all sticking out in crude fashions, and the matador's sword, I saw at last, was ran through the bull, straight into the bull's heart. I looked away, overwhelmed with the thought of the scene. I knew what matadors did. I've seen the pictures and videos of what happened, but I'd never taken a liking to the bloody sport. Up until now, I'd always seen the bull as the monster, but now I knew that they were in fact the victims. I tried to look anywhere but the statue.

Low music hummed in the place, along with the buzz of conversation and the light clatter of dishes. The workers were black and white suits and the customers wore only the finest of dresses or tuxs, which made me feel very self conscious under my fleece sweater and blue jeans. Candles winked at every table, and each table was outfitted in a simple white cloth and a vase of a single rose. At the bar, the decantors and the bottles all glimmered in the light as a bartender shook up a concoction in a mixing cup. An assortment of men and women sat at the bar, chatting quietly or smoking. A group of girls looked at Jaga and giggled, pointing and checking him out. I scoffed, Take him if you want. A waiter walked up, "Welcome to Tablu. What's your reservation?"

"Akuma," Jaga said, popping his neck.

Jaga didn't see the waiter's eyes widen slightly at the name, then gulp, "Right, this way, sir. Reservation for two." He grabbed two menus, seating us in a secluded booth.

I took my side on the booth, sliding into the dark leather seat. Jaga sat opposite as the waiter put our menus on the table, "What will you be having to drink this evening?"

"Water," I replied instantly upon instinct.

"She'll have the strawberry daiquiri, and bring her your finest peach margarita. I'll take a few shots of Jamacan rum, and just bring the whole bottle of vodka." Jaga interrupted, an evil glint taking his eyes.

The waiter paused, "I'm afraid I'll need to see your liscense, sir."

Jaga raised his eyebrows, releasing a chuckle, "Excuse me?"

He gulped, "Sir, I-"

"Run that by me again? You don't need to see my anything. Your boss, Mr. Hashamoda, happens to be a close buddy. Now go get to our drinks, bub, or I'll have to have a little talk with my friend." When the waiter didn't move, Jaga jabbed him in the chest with a finger, hard, "Understanding me, tough guy?"

The waiter nodded, rubbing his chest, "Yes, sir. Of course, sir. I'll be right back with your drinks." He left.

Jaga sat back, stretching his arms out across the back of the booth, rolling his head back and closing his eyes, "So annoying. I hate little pests like that, that think they can just talk up to me like that."

I shook my head, "That was a very gross display of power, I hope you know."

He glanced up, leaning closer, "I'm sorry?"

"I said, that was a very gross show of power," I repeated. "Just because someone has a lesser job than you, doesn't mean that you automatically have the right to mistreat or talk down to them. A human being is a human being through and through. So just because you can attend Ouran Academy, and he's here serving tables at Tablu doesn't make him any different than you. I bet he's twice the man you are, and five times as nice."

He held a faint look of shock on his face. His mouth slowly twitched up into a smirk, regaining his confidence, "Just as I assumed Miss Fujioka. You are interesting."

The waiter came back with our drinks, sliding a gaudy red glass and a frozen orange one in front of me while Jaga got a tray of small shot glasses, oozing a thick brown liquid, and a clear bottle teeming with translucent liquor. The waiter pulled out his notepad, "There are your drinks and what shall-"

Jaga waved a hand, "Oh no need for that. Bring the chef out here. I'd like to give him our order directly." Then he looked at me, smirking with an odd twinkle in his eye. "His meals are to die for."

o0o

We sat at the table, the food in front gleaming in an assortment of Jaga's flattering arrogance. As soon as the waiter left us, I realized how far we were from everybody else. Jaga crossed his legs, folding his hands out in front of him as he opened his eyes and looked over at me, "Thank you for being so patient as I dealt with the servants. You may now ask questions."

Questions surfaced to my brain, bubbling up tenaciously, bristling for attention. I leaned forward, looking up at him, "Why me?"

He chuckled, pushing his food around his plate with a fork, "Why not? You have something that the friendlies want and they asked me to obtain it." He smiled crookedly at me from across the table.

I stared down at the food, suddenly reminded of the myth of Persephone. Hades had tricked her to eat the food of the Underworld, and she was forced to stay with him. I pushed the plate away, appetite lost at that point, "What do the friendlies want with me?"

"It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, now would it?" He smirked, looking over at me, "This is a date, you know. The least you can do is try to act like you're enjoying yourself. Here," he held out a bite on a spoon. "Try this."

"Are you serious right now?" I asked. "You want to feed me?"

He rolled his eyes, "If you want an answer, you'll do what I say." After a long minute of me not moving, he added, "My arm's getting tired."

Gulping down my distaste for Jaga, I opened my mouth and let him feed me. The food was exquisite, but he left a bad after taste in my mouth. I looked up at him, waiting for an answer.

Knocking back a shot of rum and setting it back on the table with a clink, he released a sigh of content, "You asked why we want you? Isn't it simple? We want to use you."

I blinked, glancing back to the statue of the broken bull, "Use me? Why?"

He smirked, "Down your daiquiri in one go and you'll get your answer."

Sighing, I looked down at the fruity drink. It glared back up at me, blood red and twice as bright. I'd never had alcohol before. It just had never appealed to me. Taking it in my hand, I took a deep breath and got just a little sip. It wasn't strong or stout. In fact, it was very fruity and delicious. Maybe it just didn't have a ton of alcohol in it. Without noticing, I found myself downing the entire glass.

My head felt instantly dizzy, and I had to steady myself at the table. Jaga had a wider smirk on his face, but all I could imagine was a jet black jaguar licking chops as it cornered me. It took me a second to form words, "Answer… please."

"You're the one that offers what we need most." Now as he looked at me, his eyebrows were raised, amused. "Is that margarita good?"

I looked down. In my hands I was holding the margarita and sipping it as he spoke. I had drained the glass. Promptly setting it down, I tried to shake the cloudiness out of my head, the thick feeling from my throat, but then the flavor hit me, the overpowering burst of tequila. I didn't know how I could place it, but I could, and it instantly enveloped me. The next time I spoke, it was a slur, "Wha-What were we talking… talking about?"

I knew that I needed to stay focused, but it was so hot in here like my body was just wafting heat. Was this what it was liked being drunk? I don't like this feeling of not being able to think or speak. My rational side was trying to stay awake, but sadly, that part was getting more and more cloudy.

Jaga chuckled. "You look a little buzzed. But what we were talking about was I bet you couldn't drink all this rum and vodka."

Some part of me was screaming danger in bright red letters, but the other part said bring it on. "Oh yes I can. Watch me." Daringly, I grabbed the shot glasses. One by one, there was no more Jamaican rum.

The taste was a bit stout at first, but slid down in a milky way, tasting like a faint chocolate. Not much alcohol, I guess. My hand wrapped around the neck of the vodka bottle, and I pulled the topper out with my teeth. Like an idiot, I knocked back the bottle.

Fire ripped through my throat and burned all the way down to my stomach, my insides a blaze. Yet I drank the entire bottle, guzzling down the awful liquid. As soon as my lips retracted and the glass hit the table, the alcohol hit me like a brick wall and I knew I was at the point of no return. The harsh flavor bubbled back up in my throat, rousing a loud string of coughing to erupt out of me which turned into a snorting giggle (which never happens.) My gaze swept up to the man in front of me, who was chuckling. I couldn't help but laugh along. Leaning over towards him, I looked him dead in the eye, the ridiculous laughter still coming from me, "You know, you're really attractive…"

Even though my voice was a slurred mess and I was swaying, Jaga smirked, "Oh really now?"

My head nodded, and I felt like I was on a delay, "Yep." I reached out a hand, putting it on his chest. "And I would… would totally be attracted… to you… if you didn't have such an ugly, uh, heart."

His cold fingers wrapped around my wrist, placing a layer of cold there, "My, my. We need to take you home, dearest Haruhi. I'm afraid that you're positively, unfathomably and undeniably drunk."

o0o

The drive home, Jaga didn't say much. Probably due to the fact that I took up all the talking for him. I was blubbering like an idiot, ranting and raving about every little thing I saw. A strange look came over Jaga's face when we were almost back at the Hitachiin manor. I poked the skin of his cheek, "Hey… you're frowning…?"

He would simply grab my hand and kiss the knuckle, "Stunning date, wasn't it?"

Neither of us spoke for the ride of the ride.

When we pulled up, Jaga elegantly stepped out of the car and held a hand out to help me stumble into the drive way. He practically carried me up the steps, my drunk self just enjoying the ride. We finally got up to the porch, and I laughed, looking up at Jaga and trying to focus on him. He had the same weird look on his face. "You okay-"

I was cut off by the sudden motion of Jaga grabbing my wrist and pinning me against the wall. My brain couldn't think through my shock, so I just gaped up at him. He looked serious, brushing his thumb against my lips. One of his hands held both of my wrists together above my head, the other resting against my waist as his body got closer. "Haruhi," he breathed. "That was a good date, but I'm afraid I'm not done yet." He continued to move closer, close enough that his cold breath tickled my face. His chest was so solid against mine as he leaned down, tilting his face a little. With shocking clarity I realized he was going to kiss me. Our lips barely brushed, and then the door swung open.

Hikaru stood in the doorway, about as shocked to see us as we were to see him. Jaga was ripped away from me by the fiery twin, and I heard a punch being thrown and a pop as it connected, but I couldn't make out which belonged to whom. I stumbled towards the door, falling into a pair of strong arms. My face instantly buried into his chest, knowing it was Kaoru. I got lifted, feeling like I was floating up the stairs. Then I felt a soft bed under me, my bed, and then soft lips pressed onto my forehead. When I opened my eyes, Kaoru stood above me smiling.

"It's okay," He said those words, leaving me in the company of the maids. After about ten minutes, the gentler twin appeared again, smiling. "Haruhi, since you arrived at eleven o' one, you have to play the penalty game. Your penalty is that you must spend the night with Hikaru and I." His gaze shifted to the maids. "Please dress her for bed and lead her to our room. She's a little confused right now, so please. Be gentle."

I giggled as the maids lifted me to the closet. They took off my dirty, liquor stained clothes, dressing me in fine silk night clothes. Their hands were soft and warm. Each of them hugged me.

"We were worried, Mistress Haruhi," one said. "When you weren't home by ten, the twins became very jumpy and just about paced their feet off."

"Yes," the other added. "Even Mr. Hitachiin had Mr. Ootori on the phone."

I shook my head, "No… Don't be worried. Jaga… he isn't bad. He's like a, like a, uh, bull?" It came out a question rather than a statement like I'd intended.

The maids sighed, taking me and toting me down the hall. The walls felt small and tight in my drunken state, and I wanted to get to a more open space so I could breathe. I was tossed into this large room, very spacious with sage walls and wide bed. Hikaru and Kaoru stood next to each other, both shirtless, light glimmering off their slender bodies. Kaoru brushed Hikaru's hair back, showing the damage.

Three scratches covered his chin and nose, and blood swelled from his busted lip. Shadowing his eye was a throbbing purple bruise in its place. On his torso, the skin was littered with bruises and cuts that he'd earned in the fight. As soon as his eyes landed on me, he broke away from his twin and high tailed it towards me, placing each of his hands on my face.

He pulled me close, inspecting me, "Did that jerk touch you? Did he hurt you? Tell me Haruhi."

Normally, I would've pushed him away and told him I was fine, but my drunken mind could only think of one thing. I reached a hand out, placing my palm on his bare chest. "You're hot," I managed.

He blinked, then chuckled, pulling me into a hug, "And you're drunk. C'mon. Let's get to bed." He picked me up, setting me onto the soft mattress.

The twins snuggled up against me, the maids turning off the lights on their way out, leaving the bed intimate between our three bodies. They were so warm against me, their arms winding around my body and holding me tight.

Kaoru grumbled, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, holding me close, "Please, for our sake, no more dates with that guy. Or just don't do anything that will make us worry more."

"I'll probably do that," I said. "Again and again."

Hikaru sighed, sliding his rough hands over my stomach and around my waist, "You're going to give me a heart attack."

I giggled and I felt his face bury into my shoulder. "Thank you, Kaoru, Hikaru."

Both of the twins snuggled in closer, breathing in sync. In perfect unison, as only my twins could do, they asked, "Do you love us, Haruhi?"

As I felt my eyes close, my body slowly slug into the land of sleep, I yawned, "Yes, of course. I love you."

But at that moment, I didn't know who I was saying love you to just yet.

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A/N: Soooooooooooo yeah. There you go. Drunk Haruhi. That's almost as likely as drunk Kyoya. :3

Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed. Took me a while to write this, but this is the most detailed one I've written so far. I've been super busy, so sorry. I'll be quicker next time.

Love you guys. Fav/Follow and Review please. I like criticism.