Chapter 19

He could have sworn she said yes with her eyes. The way she searched for any single morsel of doubt in his eyes and came up with nothing, her brows softened at him as she leaned in closer to his face, nudging his nose with her own before giving him a look of playful suspicion. Their moment of quiet intimacy was brief under the watchful eyes of the wedding guests surrounding them.

She scrunched up her nose and shook her head at him. "That's cheating," she called out teasingly. "Taking advantage of your friends' wedding for a romantic moment."

"It wasn't intentional," Kyouya tried to backtrack. Truly, it wasn't. It seemed like the right moment, a perfect moment. It came out of him so naturally. How could he blame her? She was raised to be naturally suspicious of everything and anything. But he was lucky to have seen her vulnerable, even if it were just for a split second. He knew, however much she would try to deny it, that she would have said yes right then and there.

"And dancing in front of everyone was not an intentional move to stop people from bothering you with their prospective daughters?" Kiyoko raised an eyebrow to him.
"Well, yes," he shrugged off. "But the intent was to demonstrate that you are mine." He could own that accusation fair and square.

"I am not one to be owned, Ootori-san," she warned lowly, her grip on his arm tightening so the tips of her nails could sink into his skin. It was a sensation he grew to welcome from her.

"Fine. You own me then," he offered instead. It earned him a quiet chuckle and a loosened grip from Kiyoko who shook her head at his comment. It was a well curated response. Kyouya had to look away from her unless he wanted to be grinning like an idiot at the way she smiled. He turned his head towards his surroundings, finding the Twins giving him a thumbs up from the corner of his eye. Honey waved while Mori nodded in acknowledgement. Those idiots had probably been watching them like a hawk. He was not ready to get an earful about it later.

"Let's go?" Kiyoko softly asked with a gentle squeeze on his arm. "I think my feet have had enough and so have you," she noted the look on his face: the way his eyes narrowed at something he found annoying afar. He couldn't have hid it from her even if he tried. Kiyoko could read him like the back of his hand and quite frankly, he had stopped trying to fight it.

He took her hand immediately and led her off the glass platform. She only let go to grab two glasses of French rosé before they disappeared away from the crowd. "For the road," she claimed before taking over to lead the way through the grass to the guest chateau. She took a path through the darkness over the field instead of the gravel.

"Oi," Kyouya jogged towards the woman who was hellbent on walking into the field with two glasses of wine. The darkness was eerie enough for everybody else to stray along the gravel. "There's a path," he pointed towards the opposite direction. "We don't have to walk through the grass, Kiyoko."

"Don't be silly," the woman chided, unafraid of the darkness. She shoved him one of the glasses into his hands. "This is a shortcut." She had seen it herself from their balcony in the afternoon. There was no need for that half-mile trek. All they needed was a little bit of time for their eyes to adjust to the dark and they would be well on their way. In fairness, the shortcut would not have saved them a significant amount of walking or time but it was a nice break from the crowds. It was nice to be alone for once.

"There's a path for a reason," he lectured, taking a sip of the French rosé. His nose scrunched up in disgust. Why was it so disgustingly sweet?

"And we shall take the one less traveled by!" Kiyoko declared, giggling at her own wit. "Because it was grassy and wanted wear," she added with a gulp of her alcohol. She immediately scowled at the rosé. "Oh goodness, this is far too sweet for it to be good."

The Ootori did not laugh, he only squinted at the trite reference. There was never a dull moment with her. Kiyoko certainly did not have enough to be drunk – perhaps this was really her to begin with: playful and silly with the courage to do what others never wanted to do, and kinder than the majority of those in the same standing as either of them. He couldn't help but to smile at her, even if he tried his best to hold a neutral expression.

"Fine," she rolled her eyes at his lack of engagement as she drank some more. "You're no fun. Excuse me while I quote Frost on a summer's night with fireflies dancing about beneath the moonlight. Is this rosé subpar to you too, or just me?" she continued.

"Fireflies?" He looked around. "What fireflies?" All he could see was the moonlight illuminating her bright smile. He hadn't even paid attention to his surroundings.

She pointed to the ember glow of the creature that flew past them. "There!" Kiyoko swatted his arm and pointed to another one. "Look!"

It reminded her of summer nights she had spent with Haru, chasing fireflies at dusk in their gardens for hours on end, trying to trap them in a jar and letting them go before they went back indoors. One of the handful of good memories she had of childhood, relived tonight in the most unlikely of circumstances with a man she did not think she would grow so fond of.

She would not have wanted it any other way. Kiyoko wished she could tell him why she was so elated to see the small embers floating in the sky but instead stayed quiet and drank more of her less-than-ideal wine to keep her mouth shut.

"Eugh," he groaned with disgust. Both at the thought of insects and the choice of rosé. "There must be mosquitoes too."
"You're such a drag," Kiyoko pouted. "They won't bite you," she reassured. "I have more exposed skin, so you're welcome while they feast on me instead."

"I am grateful," he snickered. His hand spanned the majority of the barren skin of her lower back, keeping her close to him as he matched her pace with each stride. "You look beautiful," his tone genuine.

"Thank you," she took his compliment gracefully. "As they say, you eat with your eyes first. The mosquitoes are in for a treat."

The moonlight hit his cheekbones to contrast the structure of his chiseled face as he laughed. Kiyoko stared back at him with joy, grateful that he could share laughter with her. It was a genuine laughter, happiness that coursed through the wrinkles around his eyes and a hearty sound that echoed across the field. There was something about that sound – how was it possible that it made her feel so much warmth. Was she blushing?

"Must be nice to use me as a human shield," she teased, ignoring the burning sensation on her cheeks.

"Don't be silly, I keep you around for the sex," Kyouya answered with a nonchalant shrug.

Her mouth gaped open at his audacity before she punched him in the shoulder. He nearly spilled the drink in his hand. "Fuck you," she glared with a twinkle in her eye. He pulled her closer with his free arm and buried his nose in the crook of her neck, breathing in the notes of peonies and gardenia that she wore like a blanket. Kyouya could have stayed like that forever.

"Please do," he tried again with his lips brushing right past her ear. He did his best in placating her fake-annoyance. He kissed her on her blush cheeks, warm from the alcohol or from his comment, he couldn't tell. He smelled like his usual cologne, one that she forgot to check while getting ready today in their shared bathroom. Crisp and fresh – he reminded her of home. She turned her head to meet his lips, stopping them in their tracks to steal a long kiss under the moon.

"Only because you asked so nicely," she murmured. His signature smirk meant that he was proud of his hard-earned goal of receiving the promise from her. Kiyoko was not one to have him win so easily. Kyouya caught onto the way her eyes lit up in an idea that flashed through her mind. She downed her drink with a quick chug. "I'll race you back to the room!"

He caught her arm before she could even take the first step.

"Kiyoko, your feet," he reminded softly. They had gone through this scenario once before. He certainly did not have band-aids this time. They were since replaced with more useful items, ones that she no longer made fun of him for. She pouted and rolled her eyes.

"I never said I was going to run with my heels on," Kiyoko grumbled. "Anyone would know not to do that."
"You'd run barefooted through the grass?" Kyouya looked at her incredulously. "I would rather carry you."

Kiyoko laughed. "You can't carry me. I'm too heavy," she waved off.

"You're barely five feet tall and weigh next to nothing," Kyouya scoffed, trying to shove the image of her bare legs wrapped around his hips as he had her pinned against a wall only a mere few weeks ago. He had grown used to carrying her as she clung onto him – he suddenly felt the urge to bring her flush against his body, just to experience a fraction of that skin he was used to feeling in the privacy of their own space.

"Excuse me, I'm at a towering five-five right now," the woman shot back with her hand on her hip and her back straighter than it was a second ago.
"And what are you without your shoes?" he pointed out.

"Shut up," Kiyoko snapped.

A large pop echoed through the vicinity, silencing Kyouya before he was able to retort. Sparks of yellow and red exploded through the air, glittering with the stars while cheers were heard in the distance and a whole balloon of confetti fell across the crowd. Kiyoko stared at the sky in awe, eyes widening at the spectacle. Kyouya glanced over at the look on her face: soft and serene as she admired the view. The party was just getting started and they had just left. He wondered if she regretted that choice when she stood silent.

"Your friends truly spared no expense," she observed. "What an incredible wedding."

The music turned up to something more lively. Kiyoko naturally took his hand to try to get him to dance with her at arms length, swaying with the music and moving her hips. Kyouya responded by stiffly trying to move along, letting her twirl beneath his arm at her own accord. She laughed at how robotic he was, unable to keep up with her.

"Are you allergic to fun or something?" Kiyoko narrowed her eyes at him in disapproval. "Come on, let loose," she encouraged. "Your friends probably think you're such a party pooper."

"As if you're the life of the party," he huffed.
"Compared to you? I'm an absolute blast," she answered while taking away the glass of rosé from him. She gave him her empty one so she could sip on his glass.

"I thought you said it was too sweet," Kyouya said as he watched her consume of what tasted more like juice than alcohol.
"A shame for it to go to waste," Kiyoko replied. "And besides, you've had enough torture for the day, running around for a dog," she reminded. "The least I could do is drink your terrible wine for you."

"You could do more for me," he smirked while catching up to her pace. The woman had perfected her graceful waltz across the grass with her stilettos, never once veering off track or even off-balance. He wondered how much longer she could keep up, given how much wine she had in her system. She gave an unimpressed glare at him and marched on.

"Mmhm," Kiyoko rolled her eyes. "Like what?" she prodded.
"Marry me," he tried again with a grin.

"Ha," she brushed off. "I thought you were going to ask me to blow you," Kiyoko casually added.
"Uh," Kyouya sputtered. So much for trying to recreate a romantic moment. He should have asked her again when they spoke of fireflies or when the fireworks went off. But now? "Well— that, er—" He was usually quite collected but after a long day, it seemed like he had no good response to her offer. If it was even an offer… or was it a joke? A fucking sick joke.

It was her turn to smirk. Men. Goodness, they were so easy, weren't they? Her cackle echoed through the field, her laughter uncontrolled as she watched the Ootori try to scramble for some kind of decent response to save his dignity. Kiyoko eventually quelled her amusement and shook her head. Was it the wine or was it him who made her feel extra indulgent today?

"Offer still stands if you can race me back to the room," she winked and stuck her tongue out.

And with that, she took off. Wine in hand, shoes still on, her skirt flowing behind her while she dashed across the last hundred meters to the entrance of the guest chateau. The Ootori stood in shock as she raced ahead for a solid 20 meters before sprinting himself. The woman was fucking wild.

And god, he wished he would have wanted it any other way – his face cracked a smile as he chased after her through the night.

She won by a few seconds, running up the spiral stairs and entering their room at the end of the hall. She safely put her wine glass aside on the marble entry table with the vase of honeysuckle and toed off her shoes immediately. Kyouya burst through the door, his breath heavy and his eyes dark at the prospect of finally having her to himself. She smiled and hopped her way towards him with her bare feet.

She wasted no time in trapping him against the door and kissing him mercilessly, the thud of his back against the door was felt and heard by anyone walking down the hall. She was needy with the same dark eyes she reflected from him. She guided his hands below her waist, right where the fabric of her skirt opened so he could lift her legs up around his body. His fingers traced along her curves, his large hands traversing across her thighs, before squeezing the underside of her ass and forcefully bringing her against his body. She gasped at the sudden movement while her arms latched against him naturally – a position she had grown to be comfortable in over the many times he had carried her like this towards the bed, or sofa, or counter or –

Tonight he set her against the wall with the desk where his laptop had been on, conveniently between the ceiling to floor windows of the suite. They hadn't bothered to turn on the light beyond the foyer of their room. He began peppering kisses against her neck, to her exposed sternum, reaching for her breast that had been hiding beneath the silk. His hands caressed her delicately, his thumb ran over her nipple to get her to squirm beneath his touch – all while his mouth had expertly traversed from her neck to her lips, muting a groan from her.

"Oh my god," she whispered, reeling from all the sensations he had forced her to feel. From his mouth, to his hands, to the way he pressed her against the wall relentlessly. He was forceful enough to stay in control, but delicate enough to ensure that she fell apart beneath his skillful hands. It should have been illegal for him to distract her like this – it was embarrassing how her body reacted. "Fuck," she muttered. She had no words. No other words that she could utter from her throat. His hands moved down towards her hips, his fingers intertwining with the lace band that he stopped at. Kyouya paused to look down at her with a smile. He just wanted to admire her, was that so much to ask?

"What are you doing?" she breathlessly asked, recognizing that look from anywhere. The man fucking loved being in control, didn't he? She was hardly undressed, her hair a mess from his hands running through it, her lips parted at him like she was an idiot with nothing to show for. He on the other hand, looked as composed as ever.

It wasn't fair.

She grunted and pulled him down towards her again, needing to feel him – every inch of him. She tried to tear apart the tails of his shirt, her long nails getting in the way of getting his buttons undone. He chuckled and took over for her, gently prying her hands off of the hem. Kiyoko decided that it was a better use of her time to work on his belt, pulling it out of the buckles and unzipping his pants. She pawed her away into the last layer and smiled at the sight of him erect and leaking without her even having to try.

Her pupils grew wide, enjoying the sudden power invested in her to have him lose control in the same way she just did a few minutes ago. Her grip over him tightened as she began stroking.

"Shit, no," Kyouya grunted. "You were supposed to go first."

"Me?" Kiyoko looked up at him curiously. Was it possible for this man to be any more sweeter while his cock was in her hands? She nearly burst out laughing at how incredulous this seemed. She had offered to do so in the first place.

"It's okay," she reassured. "I want you to," she insisted. "Let me," she continued huskily, thumbing over the tip, her tongue wetting her lips at the sight of it. She knew just how to make him fall apart, as though she had kept a whole list of tricks that made him tick. In the same way he learned to skillfully play her as an instrument over the past few months, she had done the same to him.

"Fuck," he gritted before sighing, "No – not like this," he gently put his hand over hers. "Please," he uttered. He couldn't last very long with her around him, not the way she stared up at him and her lips parted like she was hungry for a taste of him. She would've already had her lips over the tip had he not stopped her. "I've wanted you since I first saw you tonight. Let me just –" he groaned. What was he trying to say? "We have all night." Let me just savour this. Let me show you what life could be like. You and me, every day, for the rest of our lives.

She let go and nodded, understanding his silence. He slowly snaked his hands around her back, unzipping the dress to let it pool around her on the desk. Kyouya took her hand to bring her off the ledge, as a gentleman would, to let the dress fall down to her feet. Kiyoko let him take in the sight of her, black sheer lace and all. He could only stare as she slowly took apart her French updo, gently taking out all the pins that she had hidden in her hair. Her long hair gave her some modest coverage over her shoulders to the middle of her back.

There were no words needed to understand the look of awe on his face. He looked at her like she was made to be adored and loved. It made her heart flutter so much so that it frightened her. Kiyoko reached for his hand, letting him feel the way her heart beat. The drumming beneath her sternum was strong enough for him to widen his eyes at the sensation of her fragile heart.

He could not describe the way she looked at him in such fear. Kyouya could see it immediately by the way she looked up at him. This was her way of baring her soul, giving her heart away in the only way she knew how to – silently and fearfully. She was human – far from the monster she had always claimed to be. He mended the distance between them with a kiss, chaste and gentle as he caressed her face.

"I won't hurt you," he promised her. Not if he could help it.
"But I might," Kiyoko whispered back with a crack in her voice. Don't cry, she told herself. Don't cry. Please don't cry.
"So be it," he declared.

He didn't give her a chance to cry, bowling her towards the bed with a firm grip around her waist and neck. She responded with the same kind of desperate neediness in her own hands that wandered around the span of his well-defined back, nails dragging down his shoulders when his lips moved along the base of her neck and towards her breasts. His hands skated themselves down the curves of her body before ripping the lace thong that made her groan in annoyance.

"Again?" she grumbled. "Shit, those are expensive," she scolded.
"Do you want me to stop?" he smirked.

"I'll fucking kill you if you do," Kiyoko threatened as her elbows perched herself up to glare at the man, uncaring about the fact that she would take what's hers as a selfish lover – at least for the time being. She could easily return the favour if the Ootori earned it.

He loved that look on her face. The look of defiance before he let her push him on his back so she could crawl over him. She straddled him at the hips and then pulled him up to meet her lips. She grinded against his cock, desperate for some kind of friction, or at least something to make him fall apart under her. Kiyoko was growing impatient. He grunted at the movement, moving his hands to where she needed him, thumbing along her clit while she slowly worked herself down on him. He muffled a noise of pleasure when she seated herself atop of him, breathing in her soft skin, biting her on the shoulder.

"Move," she demanded against his ear, her voice growling at him. She hardly had a chance to take a breath before he began keeping up a rhythm that made her gasp. Kyouya kept the rhythm up with his hands and he did as told, determined to have her let go before he did. She muffled a cry in the crook of his neck when she grew closer to a climax. He watched the way that she tried so hard to keep it together while as she fell apart, her forehead eventually resting on his own as she breathed heavily.

He set her down gently, pulling himself away as he ran his fingers through her hair. Her chest was still heaving as she closed her eyes to recuperate, at least for a couple seconds. She let herself grow lost in the soft combing of his fingers through her silky hair.

"Not fair," she mumbled, trying to recover quicker. They've done this countless times – why was this any different?

"What?" Kyouya's smirk danced on his lips while his fingers traced the outlines of her shoulders and down to her hips. He wanted to memorize every crevice of her bones by touch. She wouldn't admit it out loud but his touch was soothing enough to finally let her catch her breath.

"You know what," Kiyoko smiled to herself, knowing fully that he caught her grinning like a cat basking in the sunlight. Or moonlight, in this case. Her eyes opened to him watching her in admiration, his gaze soft and gentle. He was her sun. He didn't have to tell her to let her feel beautiful. She mirrored the same look while her hands pawed her way onto his chest, her palm eventually cupping his face to pull him into a kiss like they had all the time in the world. It was a rare feeling. It was the first time either of them had experienced such a feeling of bliss.

There was no work to think about, no excuses of early morning meetings to run off to, no shuffling him out the door by 7 AM to urge him to get to work. Gone were the desperate touches, the frantic scratching and clawing to fit each other into a schedule that was far too packed for any more than what they already had. The night was long, comforted by each other's warmth and scent, limbs entangled in knots with no need of unravelling.

Kiyoko woke to soft snoring and sunlight peeking through the curtains. She hadn't slept that well in months, maybe years, not that she could remember when she slept soundly – maybe it was the jet lag finally catching up. His arm was securely around her waist, tucked beneath her own arm with her fingers laced with his. Kyouya's soft breath hovered over the back of her neck, the way he cradled her body had made her melt into his soft embrace without immediately shoving him off like she usually did when she woke like this.

It couldn't have been past 7 in the morning and for once, Kiyoko did not feel the urgent need to dash out of bed. It was silly to think but if she ended things herself, she did not have to deal with the aftermath of being disappointed.

It could be so easy, he said.

Her heart fluttered at the thought. It was a dream to feel this peaceful. There had never been a time where her heart and mind had been at such ease. It felt wrong. The dull ache in the pit of her stomach grew into a fire of anxiety bursting out of her chest as she laid beneath the soft covers. Kiyoko grew restless and eventually escaped the grip of his strong arms that caged her in. There was no use in trying to fall asleep again.

She never caught onto the fact that he did wake every time she slithered out of his grip. It was enough to wake him for at least a few seconds, watching her blurred silhouette climb out of the covers and into the bathroom or closet. He could hear the sink running, the shower following shortly after. Doors opening, zippers closing, the shuffling of her glass skincare containers that rustled against each other. His eyes would open enough to watch her through the mirror, eyeshadow painted onto her large doe eyes and lips parted and ready to be lined. The lid of her lipstick popping, the spritz of her signature perfume clouded in the air and then poof – she was gone.

He fell back asleep after the door had closed, ignoring the pit of his stomach that sank at the thought of the cold and empty side of the bed.

Kiyoko found a shaded spot to sit and settle in with a polite request for a piping hot cup of espresso to the housekeeping staff. The gardens were perfectly manicured with hedges trimmed on a daily basis, hydrangeas in full bloom, and hummingbirds visiting every so often before the morning crowd. It was a beautiful summer morning in France, as idyllic as it could have possibly been. It was the perfect opportunity to catch up on a book she had been meaning to read during her flight to Europe. She loved the quiet that the early morning hours brought.

The brush of fur tickled against her bare leg that peeked out of her floral printed dress. Kiyoko looked down to find a Golden Retriever, tongue out and its tail wagging. It looked up at her expectantly. She stared down at the animal and then back at her book.

There was a nudge against her knee, assertive and disgustingly moist. Kiyoko sighed and looked back down at the dog.

"What?" she snapped.

It stared back with glee, annoying and persistent. Was this the damn dog that Kyouya had run after all of yesterday? Haru would have had more patience for this – he always had a penchant for animals, even insects. Kiyoko never quite understood it. She sighed at the sight of those damn eyes.

"If you're quiet, I'll let you stay," Kiyoko spoke to the dog as though it were human. Its ears lifted in understanding as it settled at the heels of her feet and quietly basked in the sun along with her. She gave the dog a pat on the head and a scratch behind the ears. Perhaps this was why Haru had loved animals – they understood when no one else could.

The blond owner came skipping through the courtyard an hour later while Kiyoko had been a third of the way through her book and two espresso shots.

"Kiyoko!" he beamed. "And my dear Antoinette! There you are!" The dog immediately greeted his owner with an excited pounce. Kiyoko glanced at the two and tilted her head. The dog took after his owner. Or perhaps, the other way around. Either way, they were quite the pair.

"Suoh-san," she greeted with her signature deep drawl. It was not an invitation by any means but the blond sat right across from her after dragging a chair across the grass right over. There was enough room for one at this patio table, not two and an animal with its front paws perched at the edge.

"Let's have breakfast!" Tamaki offered. "You seem to be the only one up." It was just past 9 in the morning.
"And your wife?" Kiyoko raised an eyebrow.

"Haruhi will join us shortly, I'm sure!" he added in excitement.
The woman turned back to her pages. "I wouldn't want to intrude," her voice was crisp in tone, clearly uninterested in the thought of breakfast with the Suohs and their dog.

"You wouldn't be! In fact, I will ask the staff to bring the breakfast to us," the Suoh waved down one of the keepers of the estate. Within minutes, a whole new table was being brought before her eyes. The quiet morning in the gardens was suddenly replaced by a ruckus of new furniture, cutlery and kitchenware clanging, and the hushed language of French only a few feet away from her. The moment of peace she had was long gone.

Kiyoko huffed in annoyance as she watched the Suoh enthusiastically decide on fresh fruit platters, an assortment of pastries, small tartines, coffee and tea. A traditional French breakfast in every sense. She watched as the food was plated before her eyes and suddenly she was sitting across from the eager idiot man who asked her about everything under the sun.

From her favourite colour to her childhood dreams, the book that she was reading and culture of fine arts, how she felt about cats and dogs… the man was a natural conversationalist. Kiyoko had been well-trained to deflect, refusing to let the Suoh understand her beyond the surface-level.

"You don't trust me, do you?" he smiled, catching onto her clipped tone.
"You don't trust me, either," Kiyoko shrugged, forking at a piece of melon into her mouth. "And why would you?"

"Kyouya trusts you," Tamaki answered.
She only responded with a raise of her eyebrow, refusing to acknowledge such a thing.

"Haruhi told me about her memories of you in Ouran."
"Unfortunately I don't recall much of her," the woman responded honestly.

"You were quiet and reserved. She always saw you in the library," Tamaki continued. "Why didn't you come to our Host Club?"

"I didn't even know it existed," Kiyoko shrugged. "I did not bother to engage with our classmates. They did not bother with me. It was a good medium." Her head was always stuck in books and more books. Snippets of conversation were heard here and there but the novelty of being the crazy girl wore off by the end of her high school years. Her ears only perked up when she heard her name. Otherwise, it was all white noise.

"I'm sorry."
"For what?" she tilted her head. What did it matter to him how she was treated in high school? It wasn't like he could have changed anything. And besides, it was over a decade ago now. To be hung up on such things would have been ridiculous as a grown adult.

"That you had to experience that sort of loneliness," he answered earnestly, his eyes sorrowful.

Kiyoko blinked at the answer and refused to mull over it longer than needed. There was a sudden drop in her stomach that she did not want to acknowledge. She quickly looked down to her food.

"There is no need for any pity," she brushed off. Her fingers gripped the cup of tea with ease as she drank from it slowly. She was never really all that lonely. Haru was always around at home. They watched TV together, ate meals together, studied together. It was them against the world. It always had been.

"He might not look it, but Kyouya has been quite lonely," Tamaki admitted.

"He has you guys," Kiyoko rolled her eyes. If it was anything she had learned from being at the wedding, it was the fact that he was most definitely surrounded by a group of lifelong friends. Antoinette had made her way over to the woman, alternating between the two humans for attention. Her red claws gently scratched the back of the dog's ears. "I don't think he is lonely at all," she responded.

"He puts a lot of pressure on himself to succeed."
Kiyoko shrugged. "One would think he already has it all."

Tamaki looked at the woman and studied her careful neutral expression. Antoinette had taken a liking to her, her tail wagged as she looked up to her with those puppy eyes. The animal could sense that she was a safe presence but she was so defensive against the only other human. It confused Tamaki. Why was she like this? Antoinette took Kiyoko in as one of her own and yet, Kiyoko refused to acknowledge the olive branch extended to her by him. "Not all," he told her, trying again to convince her. "We worry for him."

"As we all do for workaholics."

Tamaki stared at the woman more closely, as if searching for at least an ounce of what Kyouya had seen in her. What possible redeeming factor could this woman have? Kiyoko waited patiently, knowing that her wall was impenetrable. A cold-blooded bitch, as some would assume.

"Kiyoko," Tamaki warned sternly. "He is very clearly in love with you."

She nearly flinched at those words. Her eyes flickered for a moment at the man and the back to the dog who rested its chin on her thigh. Within a second, she gained her usual composure and looked back at Tamaki.

"That's absurd," she muttered. "The Ootori knows better than that."
"What do you mean?"

Kiyoko sat back and looked back to the gardens, avoiding the gaze of the Suoh who had now grown offended. The sun had grown higher in the sky, the heat of the summer had begun to blaze above them over the umbrella that had been set up for them. Her chest welled up in anxiety, her heart beating far too fast to be a regular pattern. It must be the caffeine, she lied to herself. She most certainly did not feel awful for dismissing the Ootori's feelings. Not at all.

"He knows this is all transactional," Kiyoko explained factually, trying to calm herself down with a deep inhale.
The Suoh narrowed his eyes at Kiyoko. "What we saw last night between you two was not transactional," he spoke of the last word in disgust.

"Then what was it?" she scoffed. "You cannot deny he is with me because I hold the key to his inheritance."
The Suoh looked pained. His brows furrowed in disappointment at her. "I thought you would have been good for him."

"No one seems to think so," the woman answered. "Perhaps… someday he will see it himself."
"If you know you aren't good for him then why are you with him?" the Suoh crossed his arms.

"It's my job," Kiyoko said simply. There wasn't even a crack in her voice. And yet, it hurt to even say aloud. It was the truth – she was with him to placate the Hibayashi matriarch. To uphold whatever little ounce of respect they still had in their small bubble of the aristocrats. What did it ever matter what she wanted?

But she wanted him. She wanted to keep him. She wanted—

"You're lying," Tamaki accused. "I know what I saw last night. That feeling is mutual between the two of you."
"What does it matter?" Nothing I want matters.

"His happiness matters," the Suoh frowned. "I have never seen him that happy, Kiyoko."
"I don't think I have anything to do with that," she denied outright.

"Does he know?"
"Know what?" Kiyoko exhaled. She hadn't planned on getting interrogated like this. Had she known that she was going to war today, she would have dressed for it. A darker lip. A longer and sharper line along her eyelids. Cigarette stiletto heels. A slick high ponytail.

But instead, she had only enough makeup to make her look refreshed and awake. Thin eyeliner. Mascara on her lashes. A muted nude lip. A soft brow arch. Her hair was braided with a ribbon intertwined in her soft hair. Hell, she even wore sandals to give her feet a break today.

"That you're in love with him too?"

"No," she answered. Her lips parted to continue. No. I'm not in love with him was what she wanted to say. But nothing came out of her throat but a low cough that turned into her clearing her throat. "Like I said, what does it matter?" she recovered.

I want you to have what they have. That kind of genuine love, she told him last night. Kiyoko did not think she could give him that. No, she was not capable of that sort of thing. Loving her would be difficult. Loving her would mean learning everything about her.

She built her fortune on gambling. A professional liar. She swindled the rich for art that could have been done by a five year old. She was very much an illegitimate child with a shameful family that no one wanted to be a part of. She was a pretty face with nothing else to show for.

Tamaki only reminded her that she was caught up in this fantasy. How could she ever think this would work out? She could hardly get the approval of his best friend who sat across from her, eyeing her from head to toe on how unfit she was for him. The rest of the rich thought the same.

But it felt so good to be selfish – to let it last while it still could. Her heart was held together by the threads of his laughter and his smile. He was so kind to her and so terribly naïve. Kyouya held her like she was broken in pieces, mended by his arms that kept her close enough to feel his breath on her neck, reminding her that she was worthy of being loved.

Tamaki only shook his head at her.