Shana opened her eyes and grimaced. The pale winter light filtered through the window of her room, and as she glanced towards the clock, she saw that it was only about seven in the morning. She was just about to roll over and go back to sleep, when she remembered what she had wanted to do.

She quickly rolled out of bed, almost groaning in disappointment when she felt the loss of warmth and was instead hit by the blast of freezing air in the room. She fought the urge to crawl back into bed, and instead turned the dial on the thermostat to make the room warmer.

She put on her furry slippers and walked into the bathroom, where she yawned and stretched, before scratching her ribs. She tied her hair back and proceeded to brush her teeth, wash her face and apply moisturizer, foundation and lip gloss – all with SPF. Feeling much better, she went to change.

Not feeling like dressing up, she pulled an oversize shirt and an old, beat-up pair of jeans on. She put on warm woollen socks and her comfortable snow boots. Taking her scarf, hat and jacket from their respective places, she donned them, grabbed her bag and walked out of the dorm room.

She didn't think there would be any public transport at this time of day, and in any case she found that she liked the weather – it was refreshing. She stopped by the supermarket to get some breakfast ingredients for him – eggs, bacon, and the like, she knew what he had in his kitchen was pathetic – and continued the rest of the way to his apartment.

She dug his key out of her bag (he had given it to her some time ago so she could let herself out of his apartment without waking him up, because he hated being woken up) and let herself in. After setting the bag of groceries on his counter, she went to his room to wake him up. She figured having breakfast made for him instead of his expensive coffee and one of his disgusting little cereal bars would negate the waking him up.

"Kyoya!" she called as she approached. The door was open, which was surprising – he usually closed it when he slept. Then again, maybe he'd been too hammered and tired to close it. She stood in the doorway and was about to call him again when she saw.

And she froze.

For a moment she was unable to process it. Yet even when she blinked, even when she pinched herself, hoping this was all just a horrible, messed up nightmare, the visual wouldn't go away. It remained seared into her eyes, into her mind, where it would probably stay forever. She whimpered, the sound laden with pain and anger, unable to move.

Chantelle, hearing the sound, opened her eyes and smiled at Shana. It wasn't a nice smile, it was a satisfied smirk. It was Chantelle telling her, I won. Look at me now in bed with your rich-ass big-time boyfriend.

Shana turned blindly to leave, and accidentally hit the doorframe in her haste. The resulting noise woke Kyoya up, and he squinted as he saw Shana's long hair and her scarf flying out of sight. He rubbed his hand over his face and reached for his glasses, and froze when his arm came into contact with skin. He grabbed his glasses and put them on, then almost wished he hadn't. What was Chantelle doing in his apartment… in his bed… naked… and Shana was running off. He heard the bang of his front door slamming shut and it made his headache all the fiercer.

Chantelle raised her arms and wrapped them around his neck. "Hello sexy," she purred sultrily, and he jumped out of the bed. This was probably the closest he had come to panic in… well… ever. "Get. Out. Of. My. Apartment." He literally growled the words at her, not even bothering to turn around to look at her. Not wanting to look at her. As if not looking at her would make her go away, would make this awful mistake go away, would give Shana back to him.

He started to go to his apartment door, but realised he was stark naked, and stank of alcohol and – he shuddered to think of it – Chantelle. He returned to his room, fished his wallet out of his trousers, which had been thrown haphazardly so that they hung half on, half off his table, and threw a five thousand yen bill onto the bed. "Take a cab home. You and all your items had better be gone by the time I come out."

With that, he disappeared into the bathroom and turned on the shower, adjusting the dials so that the hot water was almost scalding, and pounded into his body with brutal force. He began to scrub his body, almost as though the hot water and the force with which it was hitting his body would make the feel of Chantelle go away, make that feeling of wrongness melt away from his body.

But of course, it didn't work and he was forced to turn off the water and step out of the shower when the hot water started to run out. Towelling himself off violently, he wrapped the towel around his hips and stepped out of the bathroom. Thankfully, Chantelle was gone, but she had scrawled a note onto his mirror with her lipstick and even left a lip mark next to her name.

Call me if you want an encore. I sure do. Xoxo Chantelle.

He groaned and went to his closet, pulling out the first set of clothing he put his hands on – a customary black shirt and black designer jeans. Hopping to the front door while he pulled his socks on, he shoved his feet into his Converse, grabbed his jacket off the hook and ran to his car.

He drove quickly, and perhaps even dangerously, to her dorm, before badly parking the car and running to her room. When the lift wouldn't come fast enough, he ran up the eight flights of stairs, barely pausing for breath before he took off down the corridor.

He vaguely remembered seeing a bag of groceries on his counter as he rushed out, and knew what it was. Guilt intensified in him as he realised that Shana had intended to make him breakfast as an apology. How had he been so blessed to have her in his life, and how had he been so stupid to let it all slip through his fingers, all thanks to… her?

He knocked frantically on Shana's door, hating that he didn't have a key. He cursed Chantelle in his mind as he rehearsed what he was going to say to Shana. He would take her into his arms and apologize and she would forgive him and know it was just a mistake – but what if she didn't want to see him? When the door finally opened, a fission of hope snaked through him that maybe they could still talk things out, that they would be all right, since she was able to open the door to him.

But when the door opened, he cringed when he saw that it wasn't Shana, but Chantelle, the person he had just called derogatory names in about twelve languages. She purred in satisfaction, not seeing his expression. "Well," she said, a small smile playing about her lips. "I knew you'd be back, I just thought you'd wait till tonight at least. Still, come in," she offered, stepping to the side to allow him entrance into the room.

He stayed there. "Where's Shana." He made the question a statement, a command.

She scoffed. "Shana? Who the hell knows? Probably crying to her little loser friends," she said disdainfully. "Still, since you're here, I'm guessing you don't really care," she added coyly, wrapping her fingers around his wrist.

He jerked his hand out of her grasp and turned away from her, stumbling across the hallway to knock on the door.

On the other side of the door, Shana was curled up on Haruhi's bed sobbing, while Haruhi and Kaori sat on either side of her, hugging her but not knowing what to say to comfort her. They sat in relative silence, broken only by the sound of Shana's soft sobs.

Finally, Kaori couldn't take it any longer. "Shana…" she said, breaking the silence that had ensued after Shana had squeezed out the painful story in between broken sobs.

Just then, a loud banging commenced on the door. Haruhi grumbled as she went to get it. "Do you mind, now is not a good time," she snapped as she opened the door, then gasped and tried to slam it shut again. Kyoya raised his forearm and braced it against the door, not allowing her to. From the soft sobs emitting from the room, he knew that Shana was there.

He stormed into the room, coming up short when he saw Shana. Even with her eyes puffy and red, and tear streaks down her cheeks, she was the most beautiful woman in the world to him and he wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and soothe her and make her pain go away.

He started towards her, intending to do just that when something stopped him in his tracks.

"Go away." The softest whisper, so soft that he wondered if he had imagined it. He stared at her, his brow knitting, wondering if she had in fact said it. He didn't believe it – didn't want to believe it, although he had seen her lips move.

She spoke again. "Please. Just- just leave me alone," she said in a broken whisper, the hitch in her voice betraying her sadness and despair. Her pain was palpable, tangible to him. He knew what she was feeling because he could feel it too. He could sense it in the air, and he was breathing pain. He didn't know how else to describe it. With every breath he took, he could feel the pain emanating from her, and it rubbed off on him.

Shana didn't know what to do. She wanted Kyoya to come to her, to hug her and explain everything that had happened, and tell her he loved her, but at the same time, she wanted him to go away and to never lay her eyes on him again. She loved him, yet she hated him. Did that make sense? No matter how angry she was at him, she knew that she still cared for him, and when he gave her that look, like he was a dying puppy and she had just cruelly stepped on him, she wanted to rush into his arms and tell him she forgave everything.

But no, that wasn't right. She knew what he had done, and she knew that she couldn't forgive him. She wouldn't, because she knew where that would lead, and she didn't want that for either of them. She wanted to be happy, and free, and she thought she had found that with Kyoya, until he did what he had done, and she didn't know if she could ever trust him again.

"Shana, please," he said softly, not above begging if he had to although he would usually be against doing anything that might make him seem less than dignified. He would crawl on his belly if it made her smile at him again, those big black eyes twinkling at him when he knew he'd made her happy.

"Kyoya, you have to leave," Haruhi said, interrupting his thoughts. He was just standing there, staring at Shana, wanting more than anything to go to her, but he didn't know how she would react. Tears burned in his eyes.

"Shana… I'm sorry," he whispered, his shoulders slumping as he forlornly made his way out of the room, the pain in his chest more than he could bear. He got into his car and was about to start driving, but he didn't know where to go. He couldn't go home; Chantelle's awful scent was all over the place, and he made a mental note to call the cleaning service later and have them change all the sheets and scrub every surface.

He found himself at Tamaki's apartment. When he rang the doorbell, Tamaki sang exuberantly, "Coming, my dear!" before rushing to the door and throwing it open.

When he saw Kyoya looking like – for want of a better word, crap – he cringed and immediately invited Kyoya in. While Kyoya sat on the couch, staring at nothing, he quickly threw the ingredients into the coffee maker – the highest quality coffee beans, ground by hand of course. While the coffee maker was doing its job, he sat next to Kyoya, and asked him what was wrong.

"I messed up," he confessed in a hollow tone. "And now Shana hates me." Saying the words somehow made them real, made it real, and he couldn't hold back his tears anymore. They leaked from his eyes down his cheeks, running down his chin and dripping onto his shirt.

Tamaki didn't know what to do. He had never seen his best friend, the shadow king, who was always calm and collected, cry, or even show any vulnerability. All he could do was hold on to Kyoya and hope everything would be okay.

Okay I know this looks worse and worse. But trust me because it's all going to be okay! Have I ever let you down. (; Haha well, I hope you've been enjoying the story this far! Reviews are awesome. And elusive. ): But anyway, bye for now~!

Love,

Peachy Hikaru