Haruhi gaped at Kyouya, lost in mindless stupor and shock. Fortunately, he never noticed because his back was to the door.
"I'm sorry, dear, but we're closed," a waitress announced too loudly until she got a really good look at the new customer. Or maybe perhaps the waitress simply noticed how Haruhi trembled and cowered in the midst of the murderous aura Kyouya was giving off.
"Ehh?" the waitress said, still too loud. Haruhi noticed that Kyouya was starting to stir at the noise. Haruhi fearfully waved her hands around and tried to signal to the waitress to be quiet, but apparently the waitress was rather dense. "Could you be . . . Fujioka Haruhi?" she asked, peering closer into Haruhi's reddening face.
At the sound of her name, Kyouya finally turned around. A glare on his glasses prevented Haruhi from seeing his eyes, but that just freaked her out even more. She started to consider making a run for it. "Y-yeah," Haruhi stammered. "That's m—"
"Tsk, tsk!" the waitress scolded, tapping Haruhi on the nose. "Where are your manners? Honestly! Making such a hot bishie wait for so long!" Haruhi's blush deepened. The waitress turned around to Kyouya with her nose in the air. "I can't help but feel like you're wasted on her. You still have my number, right?" she asked with a flirtatious wink.
Kyouya didn't respond for the longest time. Then his lips slipped into a crooked grin, one that made the waitress swoon and Haruhi's jaw drop.
What the heck? Haruhi screamed mentally. He got someone's number when I was gone? I don't know you anymore!
"Haruhi," Kyouya said with fake pleasantness, speaking for the first time. At his voice, both girls froze. Still smiling, Kyouya gestured towards the empty seat across from him. "Sit," he said, though Haruhi could detect the dangerous air of authority and command in his voice.
"U-uh. N-n-no, I . . . Well," Haruhi stammered nervously, trying to back away towards the door.
"Sit," Kyouya repeated, a little firmer, but Haruhi remained rooted to the spot.
"What are you doing?" the waitress hissed. She got behind Haruhi and shoved her all the way to the table, despite Haruhi's protests. Pretty soon, Haruhi was sitting in the chair opposite of Kyouya, her eyes on her twiddling thumbs as she suffered under Kyouya's gaze.
It was silent for a long time. Just like the car rides every afternoon. Haruhi was drowning in it. Never before had silence been such a tangible thing. It stifled and choked her. She couldn't help but longingly think back to the piano that played so sweetly. Actually, any form of music would be preferable at the moment. Even her father's old Japanese folk songs that he sung so tunelessly in the shower would be like a lifeline to Haruhi.
Haruhi lifted her eyes up for a second, only to hurriedly lower them again, flustered by the way Kyouya stared at her.
"Do I need to call upon my secret police?" Kyouya said, breaking the silence.
"H-huh?" Haruhi stuttered, bemused.
Kyouya swirled his straw around in his half-full soda, letting the ice clink gently against the glass. But he never removed his eyes from her, not even for one second. "What I mean to say was, were you mugged or held up by anyone?"
Haruhi felt something sink inside of her. "No."
"Has your father gotten in trouble with some loan sharks, and they kicked you out today?"
"No."
"Did some idiotic, drunk taxi driver take you to the complete opposite side of town or got in a wreck, causing you to have to be taken to the hospital?"
". . . no."
"Then why were you nearly two hours late?" he asked slowly with a slight edge in his voice.
Haruhi's bottom lip quivered, and then she hastily bowed. "I'm truly sorry, Kyouya. I know I let you down."
Maybe her sincerity struck a chord deep within Kyouya. He shifted, and the glare to his glasses finally went away, revealing eyes that were not angry, just a little tired. "I'm not mad at you, Haruhi," he sighed, leaning back into his chair.
"I was with Tamaki-sempai!" she blurted out, still bowed over.
Kyouya's eyes widened. "Tamaki? Why were you with Tamaki?"
She timidly lifted her head a few degrees, just enough to show Kyouya a wry grin. "He was just being an idiot as usual. Nothing big. He wanted me to accompany him to the pet store since he's apparently incapable of behaving himself in there."
Kyouya's mouth set in a straight line at this news. Images of Tamaki and Haruhi laughing together flooded his head. So the blond was still beating him, even now? Even after all the effort Kyouya had expended to arrange a date with the dense Haruhi, Tamaki could just show up at her doorstep and drag her wherever he wanted. Kyouya wished to know where Tamaki got such confidence and skill from. It would make things so much easier.
"Did you have fun?" Kyouya asked flintily. He gripped his drink a little tighter.
"Yes," Haruhi sighed.
"Oh? What's this? You don't sound like you had fun at all," Kyouya remarked, folding his arms.
"No, it was fun," Haruhi mumbled. "I just sort of . . . realized something."
Something? Like what? Kyouya cleared his throat and tried not to show his curiosity. Fortunately for him, Haruhi clarified anyway.
"Daughter this, daughter that," Haruhi huffed. "No matter what I do, Tamaki only sees me as his daughter, which doesn't even make sense." During the excruciatingly long taxi ride, Haruhi had thought about a lot of things. Mostly about how Kyouya would react to her tardiness, but also all the things that had recently happened between her and Tamaki. A heavy frown tugged at the corners of her mouth.
Kyouya raised his eyebrows slightly. This wasn't quite what he was expecting. "Do you like Tamaki, Haruhi?" Kyouya questioned.
Haruhi met his eyes warily. "I used to think so before, but now . . ." She blushed and averted her eyes in a sudden show of shyness.
Kyouya wanted to prod her further for information, but at the same time, he dreaded to hear her answer. So he simply pushed the menu towards her. "I ate lunch a long time ago, waiting for you, but do you want something?" Kyouya paused, and then he narrowed his eyes a little. "Or did you eat with Tamaki?"
Her stomach took the cue and chose that moment to growl loudly. Haruhi eagerly snatched the menu and perused through the selections. When the waitress came back, she quickly ordered and handed the menu back. Then the unlikely couple fell into silence again.
"It's so empty in here," Haruhi remarked, mainly just to drive the unbearable quiet away.
"That's because it's closed."
"But it can't be closed. We're here, aren't we?"
"I bought the restaurant out for the day, so that we would be all alone."
Rich bastard, she thought to herself. And then aloud, she stammered, "O-oh." The heat was really starting to get to her. She finally just took the jacket off, but strangely, the warmth didn't disappear from her cheeks. Maybe there was just no air conditioning in this place. "R-right. All alone." Then she exhaled and slumped over. "It's always like that."
"What do you mean?" Kyouya asked curiously.
"Well, we always have to be alone, don't we? Even at the host club, you don't open up to me unless everyone's gone. Are you . . ." Haruhi trailed off, swallowed, and then asked a question that had also been bugging her throughout the taxi ride. "Are you perhaps ashamed of associating with a commoner like this?"
"Is that what you think?" Kyouya replied, cocking his eyebrow. He propped his head up with an elbow and stared at her intently. His finger reached out tentatively to stroke Haruhi's hands which were resting so innocently on the table. "I assure you, I would never be ashamed of being with you, and I'll never regret it either."
At his touch, electricity shocked her hand, and Haruhi jerked it back. "Then why—?"
"Because sometimes it's better when they don't know," Kyouya said with a sly smirk. He reached out and trapped Haruhi's hands under his. Haruhi struggled for a bit before relaxing. His touch stung at first, but she slowly got used to the prickling in her skin. It was a good kind of prickling, she found. "Besides, isn't it more comfortable when we aren't being watched? Nobody has their eyes on us. We can do whatever we want." His voice sent goosebumps up her arms. "When you're rich and famous, you find that it's quite nice to escape the cameras every now and then. Drop the mask and formalities, you know. With you, I can do that."
His thumbs were stroking her hands now. It was incredibly distracting. She wished he would stop before she accidentally said something mortifying without thinking. "Hey, Kyouya?" Haruhi asked after a while.
"Hmm?"
"Do you think of me as your daughter?"
Kyouya made a face. "Please don't compare me to that idiot. Just thinking about him and his ridiculous antics makes me lose a few brain cells."
Haruhi chuckled. "I know, right?" Then the chuckles died. "I just wanted to make sure, because you haven't technically answered my question yet."
"About . . . ?"
"What are we? What am I to you?"
Kyouya sucked in his breath. Here he was. This could break him or make him. How in the world would Tamaki proceed? No doubt he would do it with his innate grace and charm. Heck, if the blond hadn't been so stupid he would have won Haruhi over a long time ago, and then Kyouya never would have been given the chance, no matter how slim.
"Am I supposed to answer 'whatever you want us to be', or am I supposed to tell you what I really want?"
Haruhi's heartbeat was starting to race, but she matched his cool tone. "The latter, preferably."
Kyouya didn't respond. Then he chuckled and shook his head. "And here I thought I was trying so hard to take your advice and be more open. I suppose my piano playing still sucks then, huh?"
"No! You playing the piano is one of the most beautiful things in the world," Haruhi blurted out, then shrank back in embarrassment.
"But apparently, it's still not good enough." Kyouya started to lean over the table. He hands tightened over hers, anchoring her in place. "Shall I be even more obvious?"
Haruhi's eyes widened. "Wait," she gasped, her heart fluttering frantically in her chest.
"Oh no you don't," Kyouya muttered, getting closer still. "You owe me for being so late."
Haruhi's cheeks turned redder still, and she closed her eyes . . .
But then something smacked the table. Kyouya and Haruhi looked up. The waitress had reappeared with Haruhi's order. She wore a sour expression. "Sorry to interrupt," she said, though she didn't sound sorry at all. Then she strutted away in her noisy high heels.
Haruhi took big gulps of her soda, hoping that it might cool her down. Strangely, Kyouya was chuckling again. "I don't know what she's thinking," Kyouya said amusedly. "You're obviously much cuter than that old hag with the heavy make-up."
At the sound of the word "cute," Haruhi suddenly choked on her soda and spluttered. She felt it burning up her nose, and she pinched her nose quickly, hoping that it wouldn't come out. That would just be the icing to the mortification cake.
"Are you alright?" Kyouya asked in a sickly sweet voice. He held out a napkin, which Haruhi took gratefully. She coughed a couple of times and wiped her mouth.
"Thanks, I—" But then she broke off, her eye twitching. "What the heck is this!" Haruhi half-shouted.
"What?" Kyouya asked with a too-innocent grin.
Haruhi waved the napkin around furiously. "This! What is this?" she exclaimed. "Don't just call a girl cute and then hand her a napkin with the waitress's phone number on it!"
Kyouya laughed out loud. "What's this? Are you jealous, Haruhi?" he asked.
Haruhi flushed and then returned to chugging her drink. Once finished, she slammed the glass down with a satisfying smack, blanked out her expression, and said emotionlessly, "Of course not."
"I don't know. You seemed pretty jealous to me."
"You're mistaken," Haruhi muttered as she began to eat her pasta.
Kyouya laughed again, a little softer this time. Haruhi couldn't help but smile at him. When he's like this, he isn't so bad to be around either, she thought to herself fondly, twirling the pasta around her fork.
"Ahhh, I suddenly feel so exhausted," Haruhi sighed as they both made their way to Kyouya's limo.
"How rude. Shouldn't you be thanking me for the great time you had?" Kyouya remarked, opening the door for her.
"Uhhh . . . ?" Haruhi said, which made Kyouya stop and stare at her. But then Haruhi laughed it off. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I really did have a good time . . . after you stopped giving me death glares," she added once he climbed in the limo as well.
Kyouya scowled at her. "I never gave you death glares."
"You did too!"
"Anyway," Kyouya said, tactfully steering the conversation around. "Did you have more fun than you did with Tamaki?"
The question caught Haruhi off guard. Not knowing what to say, she only laughed weakly.
Kyouya rolled his eyes at her. "You truly are rude. Not only do you show up extremely late, but you also force me to pay for you because you forgot your wallet at home. Just because I'm rich, do you think you can take advantage of me? At the very least shower me with compliments or something."
"I'll make it up to you," an upset Haruhi insisted. She looked away, feeling a little down as she muttered miserably, "I guess you can add it to my already climbing debt."
"Nope," Kyouya replied immediately, earning him a wary, curious glance from Haruhi.
"What was that?"
"I'm not going to add it to your host club debt," Kyouya explained matter-of-factly.
Haruhi breathed a sigh of relief and sank a few inches in her chair giddily.
"Instead, I'm going to add it to a new debt."
"WHAT!" Haruhi exclaimed, sitting straight.
Kyouya flashed her a crooked grin. "You now have a new debt, a personal debt with me."
"You're lying," Haruhi whimpered, numbers and yen signs already whirling around in her head. Ahhh, would she ever be free from debt?
"Only this debt is different. This time, I demand you pay me back right away. You certainly couldn't afford to pay off the steep interest."
"Eh? I told you I forgot my wallet at home," Haruhi sulked.
"Really?" Kyouya asked a little too innocently. "Then I guess you'll have to pay some other way."
"Oh look. My apartment," Haruhi declared cluelessly. "We're here." Her fingers reached for the door's lock.
Before Haruhi could react, Kyouya grabbed her shoulders and pulled her away from the door. With a hand on her chin, Kyouya gently but firmly lifted her face so that he could reach her lips. Haruhi gasped and nearly fell over due to the fact that her seat belt was still constraining her. The two teens clumsily undid their seat belts and latched onto each other once more. The space in the middle seat, the space that had always separated them before in the limo, it was finally filled. There was no space whatsoever. Kyouya made sure of that. Haruhi couldn't think straight. Everything was whirling around her so dizzily that at one point she lost her balance. She felt her back hit the seat, but more importantly, she felt Kyouya hovering right over her in a not so gentlemanly position. With a squeak, Haruhi finally regained some of her senses and pressed her hands against his chest, stopping him.
They both panted for a while, a little woozy after what had just happened. Haruhi noticed that Kyouya never actually moved away from her, just like the fact that her hands still lingered on his chest was not lost on Kyouya. "You asked me how I thought of you? Simple," he said. He leaned a little closer and kissed the top of Haruhi's forehead. His warm breath washed over Haruhi's face.
"You are mine."
A/N: There were a few of you who weren't quite pleased with the last chapter because there was too much Tamaki. Does this please you and your inner fangirl cravings? ;D Sometimes you just have to throw little comparisons in there in order to show who the superior pairing is, ne?