Chapter 19

She hadn't spoken to her mother in at least a year. Her father sometimes called to see how she was doing. But even then, Mari hadn't seen her parents since her father was hospitalized over a year ago now. They had grown older than she had remembered them to be. A pang of guilt sat in her stomach as she seated with them on one end of the table. Kyouya sat next to her with the two being the barrier between the two families.

The lunch had begun with the families ordering their meals with aperitifs to start.

"So, you are a concert pianist," Kyouya's mother raised an eyebrow at Mari. It was all they really knew about the woman, minus the fact that she came from a decent lineage. The Ootoris knew of the Takuyas – real estate was needed for any wealthy corporation after all. Their ties were loose and never concrete enough to pursue. They were the kind of family they'd hear about through the grapevine, but never important enough to extend an olive branch to.

"I was," Mari corrected. "It wasn't the most profitable route," the former musician explained. She took a sip of water as the rest of the table had alcohol.

"So you turned to working for the Ootoris?" the Ootori patriarch interjected. It was a careful line between seeming like a practical choice or sounding like a gold digger – the wealthy spoke in terms of their own wealth, after all.

"A wiser choice," Mari brushed off the comment. "Don't you think?"
Kyouya's father nodded. "Wise to use your connections in more ways than one."

The Takuya patriarch plastered on a smile, not ignoring what the other patriarch had insinuated about his daughter.

"Well, it certainly seems like Kyouya had his work cut out for him. Our Mari worked hard for her doctorate and her career," Mari's father beamed with pride. Her mother only nodded in agreement.

"I suppose," the Ootori matriarch agreed. "But what value does she hold?" The elder woman looked at the girl. She was a pretty face – refined and elegant, as expected. She held the standards of the bare minimum of someone they would deem worthy for the heir.

Kyouya held her hand below the table as if to tell her he had this under control. She let him rest his hand on her thigh, keeping her expression neutral to the comment. She gripped his hand and exhaled softly.

"Her intelligence," he coolly answered his mother. "Mari works in our R&D department. She'll be churning out patents for us in due time. She is indeed very valuable to us."

"Well then," Mari's mother smiled. "That begs the question: what value does your Kyouya hold for us?"

The whole table was silent – the Takuyas were as audacious as the Ootoris to pose the same question. For the elders, their children were their pride and joy – Mari and Kyouya were no different. The elders had played this game of social chess before with their other children who had since married. Mari squeezed Kyouya's hand to try to prevent the small smile that had began forming on the edges of her lips. How the tables had turned. Mari hadn't expected her mother to say such a thing. Perhaps she had to give her parents more credit.

"That will be up to Kanda to decide," Mari did her best to diffuse the tension. "But being acquainted with the Ootori always holds value. Let us not forget that Kyouya was the one who arranged for your heart surgery last year."

Kyouya's father raised an eyebrow. "Well," he turned to his son. "You picked a wise one. Perhaps… a toast is in order for this beginning of a partnership."

A partnership.


It could have been worse, they thought to themselves.

Mari spent some time with her parents after the formal gathering, sitting with them at a local café for some tea after their meal. It was best to discuss their thoughts, given that she could tell her mother was dying to tell her everything that went wrong in their meeting. Her mother was a ball of anxiety.

"Mari, what were you thinking?" the mother whispered. "You didn't tell us you were seeing the Ootori. We were expecting a –"

"—A commoner family?" Mari raised an eyebrow.
"More or less," the mother sighed. "The Ootoris were not an easy family."

"Our family wasn't easy either," the middle child grumbled. "Why would you ask what value the Ootori held for us?"

"They didn't make it easy by insinuating that you were not on par with their son," the father huffed. "Do the Ootoris think we are a joke?"

"No," Mari reassured. "Not anymore, at least."

"Good," the father crossed his arms. "Hospitals and whatever. Land will clearly hold more value in the future. How dare they think less of us?"

"They don't," the middle child groaned. "We're a respectable family. Anyone knows that."
"They still questioned it," her mother rolled her eyes. "These Ootoris think they're a dynasty."
"They… kind of are," Mari had to admit. "But so are we?"

The Takuyas huffed. "The Ootori better learn some humility if they want to marry into our family."
Mari pursed her lips. "We could all learn something from each other."

The mother sighed. "Is he good to you? Is he a worthy partner? The Ootoris are hard to read."
"I think so," Mari nodded. "I'd hope so," she added.

"Well, he at least knows what you're worth," the father shrugged. "That's a good start."

"But how are you?" Mari changed the topic. Her parents were aging faster than she remembered. The elders blinked in confusion before settling into a conversation that did not deal with the outcome of their family's reputation and the Ootoris who dared to undermine them. She spoke like a daughter in the same manner they spoke for her as a parent in front of the Ootoris. The two breathed a sigh of relief.


She let down her hair as soon as she stepped into the elevator. Her eye makeup began smudging in a way it almost made her look more intimidating than elegant at this rate. She stepped into her home to find the Ootori already on the couch, lounging with the TV on to the news – the only channel he found interesting to watch. Mari usually made fun of him for it, but today she was too tired to make a comment at his choice of television.

"I told you," he called out to her when he heard the door open. He turned his head to find her rolling her eyes before she went into her bedroom to put her stupidly expensive shoes away and to change out of the dress. A part of him was disappointed to see the dress go. He jumped out of the couch to catch another glimpse of her before it was too late.

"Shut up," she groaned. Mari shut the door only to have him come into her room with a smirk.

"It went well, didn't it? Nothing to be grumpy about," he shrugged. Mari threw a bobby pin at him that she fished out of her now wavy hair. Even with the attack, the man couldn't help but to smile at her. She was stunning – in so many more ways than just her physical beauty, but today he figured he would indulge in it more than usual.

"Wipe that stupid grin off your face," she threatened. "Our parents aren't exactly on the best of terms yet."

"They're not on the worst of terms," Kyouya was apathetic to it all. "Your parents held their ground. It was impressive. Who cares what my parents think? I'm the CEO. I have the entire company in the palm of my hands."

"Yeah, alright whatever," Mari brushed off. "Can you let me change out of this dress?" She waited for him to leave the room.

"No," Kyouya smirked in defiance. "I like you in that dress. Stay in it. We should go out."

"Stop it," she huffed at his flirtatious comment. She stood from the vanity after fishing out all the pins from her long hair. She stepped into her walk-in closet and dove her head into drawer filled with comfortable athleisure clothing. Mari reached into her drawer for another outfit.

"We can grab a drink. Like commoners," Kyouya offered, trying again while leaning against the door post of the closet. He took off his blazer already and rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt as he relaxed in her living room before she came home. His Brietling watch flashed on his wrist. This was his casual outfit which really wasn't exactly considered casual by any means to any regular person.

"Are you asking me out?" She narrowed her eyes in confusion. "Also, why is it that only commoners can grab drinks? What kind of date ideas are there for the upper class?" She rolled her eyes.

"Well, we already had an expensive meal," he struck that option off the list.

"Okay, but our parents were with us. Please tell me you've been on like, you know – a real date that did not involve chaperones."

He thought about it. Mari could not help the smile that formed on her face. His smirk turned a pair of pursed lips as he crossed his arms. He was about to retaliate before Mari laughed out loud knowing that the man probably had never done this before.

"Alright, nerd," she patted his shoulder mockingly. "I'll take you out on your first official date."

"Hey," he raised his voice to interject.

"Leave," she shoved him out of the closet with a sly smile, his ego was clearly bruised. "So I can get ready."

His stomach grumbled. He was grumpy for the rest of the afternoon, reading articles on his laptop and pretending to work while Mari forced him out of the bedroom. He passed the time slowly, watching nothing but the news at the corner of his eye.

"Alright, let's go," she announced. She patted him on the shoulder to try to encourage him to get going. He only rolled his eyes, unamused by the woman who took what seemed to be forever to get ready. Mari grabbed the essentials: wallet, phone, and her keys before stuffing them in her jacket as she pressed for the elevator.

His hunger had blinded him to what she was wearing beneath her wool jacket. He eyed her silently, taking note of the skin-tight leather leggings that she paired with a slim fit cropped sweater. It was much more casual than what she was wearing earlier but was so damn alluring. He looked away before she made a comment about his mouth being slightly agape.

It didn't matter – she noticed his gaze anyway and smiled playfully.

"Aren't you going to be cold?" he grunted, masking his ogling of her. Mari brushed his comment off with a shrug.
"That's what jackets are for, smartass," Mari rolled her eyes.

"What are we even doing?" he snapped. His hunger was making him more irritated than usual at a comment like that.
"Going on a real date," she flashed a smile at him. "Like commoners do," she added. "Do you even know what people do on dates?"

Kyouya shrugged, never really putting much thought into the whole activity of dating and finding a partner. He'd already found her. What more did they need?

"Isn't this so strange? We're having our first date after our parents have met. That is not normal," she pointed out.

"What's normal?" Kyouya wondered.

"Like, you know – getting to know each other better before the whole kerfuffle of commitment with the families being intertwined," Mari explained, out of the many reasons why their relationship didn't follow the regular trajectory of what most people had.

"But we already know each other," the Ootori pointed out.
"Oh yeah? What's my favourite colour?" she challenged.
"Black," he proudly stated. She wore that colour the most. He had to be right.

"That's incorrrect," Mari retorted. "Also, it's blue, you dimwit."
Kyouya made an expression of disbelief. "Since when?"
"Since I was a child!" she shot back. "And you don't have a favourite colour because you think colours are dumb."

Kyouya had to admit to himself that the woman was right. He did not busy himself with such trivial matters, even from a young age. He quietly followed the woman out of the elevator and huffed. So much for being on a good first date. Mari was clearly unimpressed by the Ootori.


She took him to an omakase restaurant that seated only 10 people. They sat at the edge of the table, having the corner to themselves. They seated early in the evening with only another couple that sat on the other side.

"I've always wanted to try this place," Mari whispered excitedly. She called in the afternoon and luckily managed to slip in when they informed her that there was a cancellation. Her backup plan was to take the man to a Japanese curry place whether he liked it or not. She was not going to care about his pompous behaviour that would've probably complained about deserving more expensive food.

Kyouya looked around and let the woman indulge in the food. He'd never been here either but it wasn't exactly a place he would go to if he wanted to eat at a restaurant. She sat on the stool and leaned against the bar to watch the chefs cut the fish in front of their faces. It was interesting for the first couple servings. After a while he just ended up watching her instead. She ate the pieces of sushi with such grace in one fell swoop. Somehow, her deep lipstick hadn't come off since morning. The wonders of makeup.

"It's good, isn't it?" she turned to him while the chef was preparing food.

"Yes," he agreed. He had to admit it was pretty good – everything was prepared with such precision and care. It certainly helped that he was starving and ready to enjoy any kind of food that came his way. He could've eaten the trashy fast food that commoners were always eating and called it delicious.

"Didn't your friend Haruhi like toro?" Mari's memory was impeccable.
Kyouya nodded. "We used to bribe her with toro to do things for us in Ouran."

Mari blinked. "That's pretty cruel, Kyouya."
The Ootori rolled his eyes. "No one got hurt. We were kids."

"You should let Tamaki know about this place – maybe he can take her here if he hasn't already," Mari suggested.

"You tell him yourself," Kyouya brushed off. He didn't want to be seen as a dumbstruck romantic by the Suoh. Tamaki would never shut up about it. He'd probably say something about his ice-cold heart being melted by Mari or some kind of cheesy revelation.

"I wonder what Haruhi and Tamaki's relationship was like," she pondered. "Less backwards than ours, I would imagine."

"Backwards?" Kyouya scoffed. "He claimed to be her Dad for a while."
"Yeah, but you were Mommy so I wouldn't be such a dick about that," Mari grounded him immediately. "I mean, they must have grown more organically than we did," she contemplated. "You know, the enemies to friends-with-benefits to just platonic friends… we were a mess. We're still a big mess," she laughed as she reflected.

Kyouya choked on his piece of fish at the mention of friends with benefits. "It worked out!" he sputtered.

Mari tilted her head at him. "You didn't even know my favourite colour, Kyouya."
"I do now," he huffed. "It's blue. A dark royal navy blue," Kyouya muttered.
"I didn't tell you the last part," Mari raised an eyebrow.

Kyouya shrugged. "I know you better than you think. And you know me too."
"I mean, we communicate by bickering," Mari sighed before taking a bite of her piece of sushi that was served in front of her. The pieces came slower now that they were nearing the end of their service. "I guess it took a lot to get here, hm? First date and all."

He reached out for her hand naturally. The physical part of their relationship came easy. He yearned for her touch. He loved the warmth of her body. He would replay the way she smiled at him every second of the day if he hadn't had a full-time job that required his attention nearly all times of the day. She squeezed his palm, holding onto him. The restaurant was small enough that they already sat only centimeters away from each other.

"It was worth it," he smiled back at her. "I wouldn't have wanted it any other way."

"You wouldn't have wanted it to be easier?" Mari scoffed. "You know, have me fall for you immediately? Not have to fight your way through everything with me. Or have waited for me for so long."

Kyouya shook his head. "It wouldn't have been the same. You needed that time to grow. As did I," he added. "I needed to realize that you were the only one. And you needed to heal. Let's face it, Mari. We were both emotionally unavailable in many aspects of our lives – you were at least self-aware of it. I just thought…" he trailed off.

"That you would uphold your duties when the time came and didn't question it?" she finished his sentence softly for him. It was a bittersweet thought knowing that he would just marry without realizing that maybe, just maybe – love was part of the equation. That happiness was viable and not a naïve concept.

"Yes," he murmured. Until he was actually faced with the prospect of settling down to find a partner – he did not think he would oppose as much as he did. "See? No one else would have understood." He quietly kissed her on the head, a quick peck in the intimate restaurant.

She lit up with a boyish grin as she tried to hide her love for his affection. Her heart fluttered as she tried to keep her cool about it. He snaked his arm around her waist as she leaned into him. This had always felt right. They never questioned it. The feeling of comfort they had with each other was unparalleled.

"Our relationship was never supposed to be perfect," Kyouya had come to this realization many years ago. "We never started off that way and we probably will never end up like what everyone envisions a perfect couple to be."

"Tamaki and Haruhi seem perfect," Mari pointed out.
"Yeah," he agreed. "But that doesn't mean we're made to be like them."
"Lovey-dovey and always in love?" she offered.

"I'm always in love with you," Kyouya shrugged with the words that just rolled off his tongue without a second thought. He made sure to hold her waist closer to his body. "But you make it hard sometimes."

"Only sometimes," Mari repeated, ignoring the fact that her stomach had flipped over when he casually said that he was in love with her. "Imagine how hard it is to love someone who doesn't even know your favourite colour."

"Must be tough," the Ootori rolled his eyes. "Must also be hard to love someone who can't take you out on dates like a commoner would. Oh, and to date one of the richest men in the country," Kyouya added with a scoff.

"Super tough," she agreed. "I guess that's why I'm in charge of date night and planning commoner activities."

"Alright, whatever," Kyouya had enough of her facetiousness. He ate the food in front of him and fed her too. She gladly took the crafted sushi from him and appreciated the delicate texture of the cooked eel.

"Hey," Mari gently elbowed him as they waited for another course. He looked down at her, curious. "I took a long time to realize I was in love with you, okay? You're infuriating and stupid. Pretentious and an absolute assh—"
"I thought you were in love with me," he narrowed his eyes.

"Right, sorry," she sheepishly smiled. "I just… I'm forever grateful for how patient you were," she admitted. "In hindsight, you were really the only constant in my life. I felt so alone as a teenager dealing with grief. No one noticed but you. In the midst of all my failed relationships or lack thereof, you were always somehow present in my life. We had those moments of connection that were so brief I never thought of it as romantic – just kindness. I took it for granted," she admitted. "I don't want to take us for granted anymore."

He nodded in acknowledgement. She stole a quick kiss on his cheek. It helped that the restaurant was small with scarce seating. No one seemed to care about the couple that hid away at the end of the corner, quietly speaking to each other. He immediately felt the blood rushing to his face that he looked away and took a sip of water to cool himself down. He patted her on the thigh, the cool leather giving him some relief on his skin. He had forgotten how tight those pants were, his mind immediately thinking about the milky skin that was separated by the faux leather and his hand. He gulped down more water.

She patted him on the back. "You okay?"

He nodded. "I'm fine. Let's just get the bill."

Mari raised an eyebrow at him and didn't bother questioning him further. The Ootori worked in odd ways – there was always a very careful game that needed to be played when figuring out what the man was thinking. The more you questioned, the less willing he would be in indulging your curiosity. It was always a matter of deduction.

When they exited the restaurant, Mari latched onto his hand naturally. He welcomed her presence, as usual. He tightened his grip around her hand, placing them in his pocket to keep them warm. She squeezed his hand to get his attention and looked up at him earnestly.

"Was it something I said?" she questioned. She was so close he could smell her perfume again. He looked into her eyes and was lost in the dark eyeshadow that only made her eyes larger than usual. She looked intimidating. Intimidatingly beautiful, he thought to himself.

"No," he pursed his lips. "It's nothing."

"Fine," she huffed. "This is the part where people actually go for drinks," Mari explained. "Can't go for drinks on an empty stomach. That's always a recipe for a bad night."

The Ootori was unamused, obviously thinking about something else.

"Are we going for beers?" Kyouya groaned. Beer was never tasteful to him. At least wine had a complex flavour that he learned to appreciate.
"We're going to a bar so you can order your snooty wine while I order a beer. Or a shot. I feel like shots tonight," Mari smiled playfully. They walked down the street hand in hand, clutching to each other for warmth during the chilly night.

"Shots?" Kyouya raised an eyebrow.
"Little tiny ounces of hard liquor," Mari smirked, pulling him into the entrance of the bar. "It'll get the job done quicker."

His eyes widened. "Oi, Mari, we're too old for this."
"You're never too old to get reasonably drunk," Mari retorted. "Don't be such a hardass. We'll make it quick. Take a couple shots and get out before the alcohol really hits you."

"What?" Kyouya blinked before Mari had taken him into a bar and disappeared to order drinks. He expected it to be rowdier with more annoying people. People were crowded in their own circles, some crowded in booths, others at the edge of the bar talking with other people. He watched as people played drinking games and waves of laughter that resonated through the place.

Mari had come back with two shots in her hands.

"You wanted drinks, so we're getting drinks," she shoved one glass into his hand and forced him to chug. The stinging of the alcohol left the back of his throat burning. All he saw was a grinning Mari shaking her head.

"This is the college experience you never got," she laughed at his expression.
"This is not what anyone pays for in college!" Kyouya yelled over the wave of people who decided to yell cheers. Mari made eye contact with the bartender and asked for another two shots. The man held up various bottles before Mari gave the thumbs up to the whisky.

"Loosen up, Ootori," Mari rolled her eyes. "While I also hated the binge drinking culture, I also learned to enjoy being less of a grouch while experiencing it all." Two seats opened up at the bar itself so Kyouya didn't have to stand awkwardly by a wooden structural post watching everyone have fun except for him. She dragged him to sit as the bartender poured them an extra shot on the house in addition to the whisky.

Kyouya followed her lead to clink glasses and begrudgingly said kampai with her. When he said grab drinks, he was honestly thinking something more upscale. But of course, Mari was never the kind of woman who cared for such environments. She downed the shots with a smile, not even flinching at the bitterness or the burn.

"Mari, how often did you do this?" Kyouya was shaken at how easy she made it look, as if she was downing water.
"Kyouya, I have three degrees to my name – students are always drinking to forget about how shitty their lives are. Alcohol is a way of coping," she laughed. She laughed more with alcohol in her, he figured. He didn't mind that. He liked hearing it. He welcomed it and pulled her close, listening to her laugh and giggle against his ear. All he could do was mirror the image.

Mari ordered a bottle of sake for the two to share. A whole bottle of expensive sake that the Ootori widened his eyes at. Mari was not usually the kind of person to spend copious amounts of money – but while the two had the wealth to spare, there wasn't a reason not to splurge tonight.

"Okay, this is way lower in alcohol content," she poured him a glass. "And much smoother while going down. Don't complain," she warned.
"I've had sake before," he rolled his eyes.
"Then don't be a baby about it when I pour you more glasses," she challenged.
"I'm not even drunk yet," he snapped.

The two drank with Kyouya matching shot for shot with her. She smirked at him grumbling about how he wasn't drunk until she pulled him off his chair and he stumbled slightly. Mari pulled out her credit card to settle the tab and led him out of the bar, laughing the entire way.

"I'm fine," he grunted with the laughter ringing in his ears. By the time he realized where he was, they were in the lobby of her condo. He was fine, he told himself. She pulled him into the elevator and leaned against the wall.

"Yeah you're fine," Mari smirked. "Let's get you some water, yeah?"

"Whatever," he brushed off. He didn't need water. He was perfectly hydrated from all the alcohol. Too hydrated, actually. He needed to pee. Alcohol was a diuretic, after all.

"We're almost home so you can pee," she fought back a smile.

Kyouya narrowed his eyes at her. It's like she was reading his mind. Incredible. How did he get so lucky?

"You're lucky because you actually voice your thoughts out loud when you're drunk," Mari smiled. "Alright buddy, go pee," she patted his back and took his jacket off.

"What?" Kyouya turned around, clearly confused. Mari ushered him to the bathroom before running to the kitchen to grab him a glass of water. Mari herself was fine, reaching a state of being reasonably drunk. Kyouya was likely a little further than that. As soon as the Ootori came out, he stumbled to find Mari in the kitchen. She shoved a mug of cold water into his palms.

"Drink the water," she ordered. "It'll help with the headache tomorrow."

"Pfft," he pushed away the ceramic. "Headaches are for the weak."

Mari drank her water knowing better in how to nurse her intake with alcohol. "You'll regret it," she warned. "You're going to wake up tomorrow asking me for aspirin."

"Whatever," he stumbled his way over to the woman, leaning on the counter and gazing down at her now that she had taken her heels off. She looked up at him with a small playful smile. She grabbed his cup of water and stuck it on his mouth before he could even try kissing her.

"You'll thank me for it," she whispered. He groaned and reluctantly drank the cup before he was allowed to go near her again. Mari had quickly disappeared into the bathroom, hoping to get rid of all the makeup she had worn for the day. She was in the midst of taking out her contacts, rubbing them both in cleaning solution before being bumped from behind by the man who was far from coordinated at the moment.

"Fuck," Mari half-yelped. "I nearly dropped my contact, Kyouya!"

"I'll buy you another pair," he slurred. He blinked to get rid of the haze that surrounded her but every time he moved his head it felt like time had slowed around him. Something about it all was calming. It was a good feeling. He relaxed around her, naturally pulling her closer to him from behind. No inhibitions, whatsoever.

"Did you drink your water?" Mari calmly asked, letting him bury his nose in the crook of her neck. He took a deep breath, keeping his hands on her hips. The faux leather had such a smooth and soft texture beneath his fingers. She smelled so good. It made him want to lose control immediately.

"How?" Mari asked with a smirk after putting her contacts away. She was about to take off her makeup after a long day but the man stared at her hungrily – it made her wonder what did it. Was it the smudged eyeshadow? The faux leather leggings? The perfume?

"What?" he was confused.

"What makes you want to lose control? Just for future reference," she turned and smiled up at him, her arms naturally finding her way around his neck.

"Uh," he stumbled over his words, not realizing what he had been saying aloud and what he had kept to himself. "I don't know. It's everything."

"Pick your favourite," Mari tried again. "Is it the hair? My eyes? What I'm wearing?" she purred. He held onto her waist to keep himself steady, closing his eyes at her voice. Fuck, this was difficult.

She kept laughing at his remarks, the stuff that he would say out loud was so far from what she thought he would be thinking about. He hadn't even spoke a word about his corporation the entire night. He was so incredibly invested in them. Just them. Nothing else mattered. No one else mattered, actually. She kissed him sweetly, her hands cupping his chin. He stumbled back in surprise, almost unsure if she had just kissed him outright. It felt like a dream. A really good one at that.

"I like when you quietly remind me of how much you love me," she murmured.
"I don't do grand gestures," he grumbled. "I'm not Tamaki."
"Thank god," she rolled her eyes. He chuckled at the familiar sight. He often hated it, but as the years had gone by – there was something so classic about that move that it was always such a signature of hers. He held her closer, appreciating the fact that she was even in his arms.

"You're pretty," he grumbled.
"Hm?"
"Hair… so soft," he slurred. He was getting less coherent by the minute. He gently stroked her smooth wavy hair. The silky strands fell through his fingers immediately. "And your eyes. They say everything about you – the ferocity, the kindness, the empathy…" He looked at her with a smile. A window into the soul that only he had the privilege of knowing to such depth. "And your legs. Fuck," he groaned.

"My legs?" she widened her eyes and laughed at his admittance. She did have rather long legs that were toned from many years of running and also considering the fact that the Ootori was not that much taller than her.
"Ugh," Kyouya took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes as if to stay awake. Mari gently took his glasses and placed it on the counter, sighing at the man in front of her. She took his toothbrush and handed it to him. "Come on," she encouraged. The Ootori was drunk but hopefully not drunk enough to go through a regular bedtime routine. He obediently followed her directions, brushing his teeth with her and watching her in the mirror.

Mari tied up her hair and washed her face to wipe off the makeup she had worn for the entire day. It was a refreshing feeling to let her skin breathe. She turned towards him and smirked.

"I have to shower," she told him. A part of the Ootori wanted to sigh, knowing that he'd be kicked out soon before long. He readied himself to turn towards the door before she stopped him by the arm and told him to turn on the tap for her.

"W-what?" he stuttered. He sounded stupid. Kyouya internally groaned at himself. Why was he so stupid tonight? The alcohol had some kind of terrifying effect of making him so far from his regular cool self. It made no sense.

"You heard what I said," Mari smirked out the door, already pulling up her sweater to reveal her bare skin. He gulped at the sight – not that he hadn't seen her already. It was the tease. The smirk. The laughter. Goodness, it made him helpless.


He woke to his phone buzzing on the nightstand. He immediately wanted to pull the covers over his head to ignore the vibration of his phone. Of course, Mari poked her head up from the sheets and crawled over the log that had a grip on her waist. She fought against his arms that held her down to the mattress. He just wanted a couple more moments of peace and quiet, falling back into a deep slumber with the warmth of her body. But instead, she was the raging beast that pried his arms away. He grunted at the way she climbed over his chest like it was nothing but a dead body.

It was half past 9 in the morning – later than her usual wake up time. The blackout curtains made it difficult to realize what time it was after a long night, after all. She wiggled over to his nightstand and grabbed the phone off from the charging cord. She pried her eyes open to read the bright screen that shone in her face.

"Kyouya, it's your sister," she whispered.