Ouran High School Host Club Fan Fiction ❯ Love Letter for Haruhi ❯ Chapter 5...Long Weekend ( Chapter 5 )

Disclaimer: I don't own OHSHC, Bisco Hatori does. Enjoy!

 

 

Love Letter for Haruhi…by taterbean96

 

 

 

Chapter Five…Long Weekend

 

 

 

Regardless of how hard she tried, Haruhi spent her weekend entertaining daydreams of Kyouya. She sheepishly wondered at different times throughout the day what he was doing right at that moment. Was he maybe thinking about her? Was he still lingering on their close encounter in the closet? She definitely was.

 

She scoffed at herself as she gathered ingredients in her kitchen for dinner. Of course he wouldn't be thinking of her per se, he was probably concerning himself with her situation. She could see him in her minds eye, even now, working on a way to find out if Hunni was the one who had slipped her the poem. If not, pretty much all suspects were eliminated, leaving Mori.

 

A nervous knot bound in her throat so she turned her mind to other options. Could they truly rule out Tamaki as a potential suspect? Well, if Kyouya thought Tamaki was in the clear, he had to be.

 

She hacked ferociously at the leeks for her miso soup as she began to relentlessly barrage herself with insults. How could she let herself turn into such a loopy headed basket case? Why should she give a damn what Kyouya thought?

 

That's it! She told herself hotly, now chucking cubed tofu into the broth. Starting now, I'm done. He's gone forever from my mind…

 

She had to at least give herself credit for trying…her attempt lasted all of ten minutes before she was once again wondering what he was doing. Was he thinking about her?

 

Sighing, yielding, she realized it was no use. She was hopeless. It wasn't even really the fact that her thoughts kept returning again and again to the Shadow King, it was how her heart was behaving; throbbing and racing.

 

“Damn hormones,” she murmured miserably. It had happened. She'd blossomed before she had even known her bud was trying to unfurl. Well, she thought, whoever wrote the letter picked the perfect time to do it. It had fed into her growing, self conscious changes, turning her into something she wasn't familiar with at all…a love struck teenager.

 

Adding salt to the wound was that she hadn't kept a tight harness on her heart, letting it run wild, letting her build a fancy to Kyouya. Rich heir, devilishly clever, utterly sexy, Kyouya. She groaned stirring the soup in the hot pot until it was sloshing over the side. What had she done to herself?

 

Or more appropriately, why had she let a sheet of paper with sweet words scrawled on it, reduce her to a smoldering puddle of white hot lava? It brought to the surface what she had been unknowingly burying for so long about the Shadow King.

 

Life had been so much easier before the complications of blossoming emotions had consumed her simple existence. As she poured herself a bowl of overdone soup, she once again wondered, I wonder what he's doing now.

 

 

Xxx

 

 

 

Kyouya knelt at the table in the center of his oversized bedroom, shifting his gaze from his cell phone to a stack of photos that were askew across the table top. His tethered knot of feelings were weighing down heavily on him. He picked up the cell phone, flipping it open. Just as quickly, he flicked it shut.

 

There was no way he'd be able to call her anyway; his fingers were shaking like weak twigs in a wind storm. Sighing he set the phone back down. This was insane, just call her and tell her…

 

Letting her know what he knew wasn't such a big deal, was it? They were working on unmasking the poet together. Yet, a simple phone call to Haruhi was now looking to be a huge obstacle. His heart and brain were keeping him from it.

 

Calling her now might reveal more than he thought she need know right now. Smirking, his eyes again lingered on the photos that were to be published in the host magazine that week; Haruhi's was on the top. Her big eyes were shining, her smile so innocent…

 

He felt a sledge hammer slam against his ribcage. Besides, if he called her and told her it might all be off, and he was enjoying this mysterious caper that they were trying to solve. Hanging out with her, he really liked it. It wasn't like with the Host Club clients…she was so real.

 

Feeling her warm body trapped against his in the closet had been exhilarating and probably the first time he'd lost all logical sense. When she'd wrapped her arms around him, he felt his stomach turn to jelly and slide down into his legs. He hadn't been able to suppress a wanton sigh, which could have been a huge misstep.

 

Running a shaky hand through his tousled black hair; he attempted to steady his nerves. She was turning him into something that he wasn't familiar with…an irrational, blundering, walking glob of testosterone.

 

Setting his resolve, knowing what he had to do, he snatched up the phone, hitting a programmed phone number set in the memory. It rang only twice.

 

“Mushi mushi,” came a voice from the other end.

 

“It's me. I think we need to move things up a bit. Can you do that?” he asked, his eyes fixated on her photographed face. He nodded curtly at the sound of the speaking voice on the other end of the phone.

 

“Okay, thanks.” He flipped the phone shut, pulling her picture closer to him, running a slow fingertip over it.

 

How would she react when she found out who wrote the letter? Would he be able to stand the look on her face? She said she was going to reject him, but Kyouya had a suspicion she had let the letter affect her more than she cared to admit. It had gotten her mind thinking and her heart racing.

 

Kyouya knew their innocent Haruhi had become interested in men. This could tip the table in the writers favor. Kyouya had to tread lightly from here on out and just maybe be there when she needed a strong set of arms wrapped around her. He let out an airy laugh at this. Oh yeah, he'd do that whenever the opportunity presented itself.

 

Placing the photo back in the portfolio with the others, he sighed. He'd have to let her know his feelings for her; just…not quite yet…

 

 

 

Authors Note: Thanks to my mom who does my editing, because she so rocks at it. Also, let me point out the obvious, I don't own OHSHC, Bisco Hatori does.