Ouran High School Host Club Fan Fiction ❯ L'Amour Se réveille ❯ Chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own Bicso Hatori's Ouran High School Host Club or any of the characters. I just like writing about them and making them do my bidding…he he he.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

Tamaki knew he had been acting strange all day.  He didn't even react when the twins tried to provoke with suggestions of how Haruhi would look in a beautiful frilly white Valentine's dress.  Well, not in the way they hoped anyway.  And luckily nobody noticed!  He'd had to imagine Mori in the dress just to calm himself.  Now he couldn't even look Mori in the eye, not that he did very often anyway.

Was it just him, or did she look even more radiant today?  She glowed, positively glowed.  He knew it would take everything within him to focus on his own guests for the afternoon.  However, he found that when he pictured Haruhi's face on each of the lovely ladies who designated him, he didn't have to try hard at all.  In fact, they seemed happier than ever at this newfound fervor in his look.  Some of the girls became speechless, and he was quite flattered when one even fainted.
“You seem to be especially in character today, Tamaki,” Kyoya commented before Tamaki's final guest for the afternoon arrived.  “Any,” he cocked his head to the side with a smirk forming on his lips, “…special reason?”  Tamaki had to think fast.

“Is it wrong for a man in the prime of his life to feel so alive on this day of love?” he began.  He couldn't let anyone know of his revelation of loving Haruhi.  They would think him insane!  To them, he only loved her as a daughter, and he would be ridiculed, thought of as perverted, and possibly be shunned if they knew how he truly thought of her. 

He summoned the roses round about him and his eyes began to sparkle.  Arms outstretched, he continued.  “This gloriously wonderful day, filled with the hopes and dreams and chocolates of young women everywhere!  They come to ME to fulfill these hopes, and I, being but the humble servant of their desires, am compelled to-” He stopped.

Haruhi's eyes were directly upon him, and in them was…what was it?  She closed her eyes, sighed, and continued with her tea tray to the table of awaiting Haruhi-fans.  Why did she look at him like that?  So…disapproving and…unaffected.  Why did she dislike him so much?

A short dry, “Ahem,” made him jump ten feet in the air before turning back to a still smirking Kyoya.  Tamaki relaxed his tense face, tried to smile, and busied himself with straightening his tie.

“Is everything ready for this evening?” he asked his friend.  For some reason, under that icy stare of Kyoya's, he could feel perspiration forming on his hairline.  Kyoya dropped his gaze, much to Tamaki's relief, and scribbled something in his notebook.

“It is now,” Kyoya replied, snapping it shut.  “This evening shall be very…fruitful, indeed.”  His gaze returned to Tamaki, and Tamaki let out a sigh of true relief.  The profits from this evening should be very high.  Kyoya certainly knew how to take care of things!  And with that Tamaki turned to the opening door, and greeted his final guest of the afternoon.

However, this time, his mind was on things other than love.  He knew by an innate instinct, as well as multiple previous experiences, that Haruhi could not possibly be affected by his charms.  Therefore, whenever he pictured Haruhi's face on his guest now, he was met with her eyes of disapproval and reproof.  He felt absolutely miserable and couldn't think of any possible way he could get through to her.  It wasn't like he could just ask her.  He allowed Haruhi's face to dissolve and attended his client with false passion and ease.

As he saw his lady to the door, he chanced a glance a Haruhi, whose head seemed to make a sudden movement the moment he looked at her.  She was then waylaid by Honey, asking her if she would like some chocolates.  She smiled at the senior with genuine gratitude and affection.  She looked…SO CUTE!  Tamaki wanted to spring forth and capture her up in his arms and…and…  But what would she do?  She probably wouldn't even laugh at his “antics.”  She would probably only sigh and tolerate him until he released her.  He wanted to be many things to Haruhi, but not one on the list was to be “tolerated” by her.

Haruhi reached for the small strawberry candy that Honey held out for her.  She slowly lifted it to her mouth, letting her lips close onto it slowly.  Her eyes shut and her head tilted back slightly.  Tamaki couldn't take his eyes off her.

“So good!” she exclaimed to the blonde senior.  “Thank you.  I love strawberries.”

“I'm so glad!” he answered, hugging his bunny even more tightly.  “We're going to have fun tonight, right?” he asked, taking her hand.  It looked so delicate, soft…how could anyone see her hands and still think her a boy?  Tamaki wanted desperately to take her hand, but it seemed she accepted everyone in the host club but him.

A cloud seemed to form over the host king, dark and dreary, and it began to suck the light out of the third music room.  By all appearances, behaviors, and comparisons to others, Tamaki had come to the conclusion that Haruhi must not care for him at all.  Even if she hated him, it would be some sort of feeling directed towards him, but he was nothing at all to her but an afterthought and a nuisance.

With this horrible revelation, the king resigned himself to the fact he could and would never mean anything to Haruhi.  Tamaki sat down slowly and quietly on one of the plush red couches, head in his hands, and sighed.

He was completely unaware that more than one set of eyes watched his movements with more than idle curiosity.


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It had been a long night charm, make-believe, and beauty.  With each girl that sat next to him on that lovely ride through the cherry trees, Tamaki found himself comparing.  This one's eyes lacked the brilliance of hers.  That one's hair was certainly not as soft.  Another's perfume was overpowering, while yet another's smile lacked sincerity.  Not one girl was the equal to his Haruhi, and yet they were all here with him, wanting him.  Could he do anything to make her want him?

The night was at its end, and Tamaki was exhausted.  That much smiling and wooing, especially when one didn't feel like it, made for much tension in the shoulders.  But it was finally over, and that was one thing Tamaki was happy about.  Stepping out of the carriage, he raised his arms above his head and stretched.  Then he stopped.

There was a commotion.  He could hear voices of protest, rustling of leaves and branches and clothing.  What on earth was going on?  Before he could make his way down the path to the park entrance, he was met by Kyoya.

“It seems you have one more guest,” he stated matter-of-factly.  Tamaki felt the weight once again pressing onto his shoulders.  Kyoya must have noticed his dejected look.  “I don't think you are going to mind just one more.  Think of it this way,” he said, putting an arm around Tamaki's shoulder and walking him back toward the carriage.  He leaned down in a little further.  “Think of it as…you are doing it for the good of the Host Club.”  Tamaki sighed in reservation, and turned to face…

Haruhi?

“Kyoya-sempai, I don't understand why I'm doing this.”  There before him, in a knee-length dress of white satin, stood the last person Tamaki expected to see.  The wind lightly whipped against her short hair, and the dress flowed around her petite frame.  He could feel his face flushing, and before he knew what he was doing, he grabbed Kyoya's arm and objected.

“Kyoya, what are you doing?  You can't possibly expect-”

“It's for the good of the Host Club, right?” Kyoya carefully, yet firmly, lifted Tamaki's hand from his arm.  “In any normal circumstance you would not be protesting.  You are not protesting, are you?”  Tamaki swallowed.  He heard Kyoya use that voice before.  Nobody denied the Ootori of anything when that voice was used.  So Tamaki shook his head, clearing it of all thought, and turned to Haruhi.  She looked back at him, a strange indiscernible look on her face, before entreating to Kyoya once again.

“But why must I-”

Kyoya was almost instantly at her ear, whispering softly.  No doubt he was reducing part of her debt in an order to bribe her to ride with him.  Tamaki felt his brow crinkle.  Haruhi sighed, nodded her head, and Kyoya went over to speak to the driver.  In all his wondering, Tamaki could think of no reason this could be benefiting the club.  But then again, why was he complaining?  His eyes lifted to Haruhi.  She was stunning.  Even if it meant nothing to her, it was time he got to spend in her precious company.

“My princess?”  Tamaki smiled and offered his hand.  Haruhi's eyes flitted to Kyoya, then back to his hand.  She raised her own tentatively, before placing it in his own.  Right there and then, Tamaki could have died a happy man.

Somehow they made it into the carriage, but Tamaki couldn't figure out for the life of him how.  The next the he knew he was seated next to her on the beautiful violet cushion, as Kyoya handed the driver a check.

“Twice around the park,” stated the shadow king.  And with a nod, the driver clicked the reins, and the carriage was off.

End of Chapter

 

*Author's Note* Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought of it! Thanks!