The following afternoon I dragged myself into the club room. The twins were sketching costume ideas on some high-tech tablet. How they thought the clothing would be ready in three days I wasn't sure, but between their family money and their mother's connections I supposed it would happen.
Honey was reviewing catering pamphlets. Kyoya was poring over the ledger. I laid down my school things on a wingback chair. From the corner of my eye, I saw him look up and stare in my direction for several long moments before sighing and returning to his work.
Tamaki danced over and grabbed both my hands. "Are you ready for our lessons?" he said happily. We moved away from the others, into the alcove containing the piano and a fair share of empty floor space.
"Today you will learn the foxtrot. That and the waltz will get you through just about all the pieces an orchestra might play at the ball." Tamaki's voice echoed off the hardwood floor and bare walls. He stepped close to me. "Since you are taking the man's part, your hand goes here." He pulled it around to cover his shoulder blade. He laid his arm across mine to rest heavily on my shoulder joint. He took my other hand in his and brought them to eye level beside us. Our faces were awfully close, thanks to my short reach. I stretched to put as much room as possible between us, a flush creeping up my cheeks.
"Um, don't we need music?" I asked.
"Not yet. You have to learn the basic steps first."
So after a quick explanation, we practiced to a cadence of 'one-two-three-four' for awhile.
"Is it my turn yet?" Kaoru asked from the curtained entry.
Tamaki turned him down flat. "Forget it! Tell Kyoya we're ready for music."
Kaoru slunk away and Tamaki gave me a few more pointers, adjusting my stance for the hundredth time. Seriously, how could such a simple dance require so much concentration?
From the piano bench, I heard an orchestral piece that had a slightly tinny edge to it. It came from a Bluetooth speaker I hadn't noticed before.
Tamaki counted down for us to start. The music was less forgiving than our verbal counting had been, and I struggled to keep up. It was a good thing I was wearing tennis shoes today; I tended to step on my partner's toes a lot—literally.
After one too many of these mishaps Tamaki released me. "We should go check on the others," he suggested, favoring one foot. "And I want to see if my big surprise is on its way," he said with glee. We returned to find only Kyoya remaining, still in front of his laptop, two fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. He looked worn out. Tamaki took the chair next to his and commandeered the computer, clicking off the music and opening another screen. I was surprised to see the orange tones of sunset streaming through the grand windows.
Kyoya turned sideways in his chair. "Have you made any progress?" He rolled his shoulders one at a time, stretching and flexing.
I could offer him a neck rub, I thought, eyeing the wisps of hair that tickled the smooth muscle above his collar. He spends a lot of time bent over his notebook or laptop. It probably leaves him pretty tense.
With a start I realized I'd been staring and not answering. "I don't know," I said nervously. "I'm pretty tired though. I think I'll head home." He stood as well, gathering his things as I did mine.
The following afternoon appeared set to follow a similar pattern, although today—Tamaki had informed me—we would review the waltz. He and Kyoya were having a discussion about which chance games we could purchase or rent for the Fair. While they talked, the twins sat on the sofa on either side of me showing off the costume designs we would be wearing (although they were keeping my ball outfit a secret).
"Those are great!" Tamaki enthused, looking over our shoulders. "Haruhi," he announced, "It's time for our dance lesson."
As we headed toward the alcove from yesterday, Renge popped her head in the music room door. "Tamaki, your father is asking for you to come to his office."
His face brightened momentarily, but grew concerned when he looked at me. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he promised. He brushed a gallant kiss across my knuckles.
I laughed. "Good grief." I watched him straighten his posture as he walked away.
Thinking I was off the hook, I drifted over to where Kyoya sat with his notebook and laptop laid out on a table. "Is everything okay?" I asked from his side. I looked longingly at the dark tendrils touching the back of neck. "You seem kind of stressed out."
"The plans for this year's Fair have been challenging," he admitted, turning sideways in his seat to acknowledge me. "Ah!" he said, pushing his glasses up. "But I know just the thing…" He plunked a few more lines on his keyboard and I heard music coming from the Bluetooth left in the other room.
He rose smoothly and offered me his hand with a half-bow. "Your substitute teacher, if you please." My head spun and my hand moved on its own to rest in his. I wasn't used to him using host club charm on me, and I succumbed like the first-year female I was. He stood to his full height, smoothly tucking my hand into the crook of his am as he escorted me to the room of torture.
As we walked, he explained. "The waltz is a gliding dance based on three-four time. Remember the quick-quick-slow pattern?" I nodded. "It was considered quite scandalous in court circles when it was first introduced," he added.
Having arrived at our destination he untangled our arms and grasped each of my hands in one of his. He held them at shoulder height on either side of us and looked directly into my face. His nearness was making me stupid. I felt like a marionette, completely under his control.
He quirked a half-smile. "Don't panic, Haruhi. It's supposed to be enjoyable."
I exhaled and nodded. He showed me the steps one by one, allowing me to watch his feet and mirror with my own. It seemed easier than the foxtrot and it came back to me pretty quickly.
"Very good," he encouraged, releasing my hands.
"I don't know," I said, still addressing my feet. "I'm just not that coordinated…" I stopped short as he stepped forward into my personal space.
Every sense went on high alert, and my gaze slowly trailed up his torso to his chin. From behind his glasses, he regarded me intensely. "You didn't ask me why it was considered scandalous." His voice was low, sultry, but his eyes danced with mischief.
His gaze dropped to my hand. Wrapping it in his elegant fingers, he gently placed it on his trim waist. Such a simple action…no big deal. But my heart began to hammer in my chest. I was very aware of how his body moved under the rough material of his jacket. His arm skimmed along my waistline and settled on my shoulder blade.
With trepidation I closed the distance between us, sliding my hand around to the small of his back. He sucked in a breath and jerked his head up to look over my shoulder. As we adjusted our stance, I could feel his muscles flexing and shifting beneath my hand. My pulse quickened. How on earth was I supposed to remember anything now?
My eyes were even with the open collar of his shirt, and the smooth skin of his throat called to me. Tearing my eyes away, I looked up to find his beautiful amethyst eyes on mine. "The key," he murmured, "is to relax. Trust me."
I swallowed. I did trust him, in so many ways. I could trust him with this. Nodding my head, I prepared my internal count.
Before I was ready, we were moving in time to the music. I couldn't focus on individual steps because he was whisking me along too fast for thought. I felt wonderfully dizzy, but not from the twirling steps of the dance.
I had never dreamed of being in his arms, but I should have. It was perfect.
"I'm doing it!" I said, excitement lighting my face.
A gentle smile curved his lips. "You have a good memory. Now use the hand on my back to guide me in the direction you want to turn." He lifted an eyebrow as he added wryly, "That's the man's part."
"Um, okay, I'll try."
He had been making it easy on me until then apparently. Now we had what felt like a tug of war. One of his warm chuckles escaped.
"I'm not used to the lady's part," he admitted. "It's difficult to follow, especially when you're giving me such mixed signals," he smirked. "Now I could… "
Before I knew what was happening, our clasped hands were raised and I was spinning underneath them. Finishing my twirl, he allowed my momentum to send me crashing into his side. With our positions reversed he could now take the man's role. He led me effortlessly in a wide circle, using just the slightest pressure on my lower back to angle me in one direction or another. Of course, it probably helped that his hand was much longer than mine and easily cupped half my back.
"Alright, you win," I told him after a few turns. "You're a natural and I'm hopeless."
"Haruhi," he chided. I looked up to meet his gaze and he brought his head down until we were almost nose to nose. "Let's just enjoy this for a while," he breathed. His hand slid up the back of my neck to tangle in my hair and press my cheek against his chest. I closed my eyes and surrendered to the hypnotic flow of our bodies moving with the music.
One rotation. Two. What would it be like to have him hold me whenever I wanted?
I was giddy.
And I was home.
I was… busted. My reverie was interrupted by sputtering from the direction of the other room. "What… what… what…"
My eyes flew open and followed the sound to Tamaki, who stood in the draped entryway, mouth agape. He whimpered, "What are you doing?"
We drew to a stop and I felt Kyoya slacken his hold. Our clasped hands fell to our sides but our interlaced arms left us joined at the hip as we faced our shaken President.
"The waltz, of course," Kyoya calmly answered, stepping back to put some more distance between us. "I believe Haruhi is as ready as she'll ever be."
Tamaki was still shocked into silence, eyes darting from me to Kyoya and back again. I felt a blush creeping over my face.
"I told you I should handle the refreshment table," I grumbled. Tamaki still looked crestfallen. I couldn't resist the big blue puppy eyes. "Here," I said, raising my hands in a helpless gesture. "Why don't you give me a second opinion?"