(no subject)
Next up:
He had her up against something uncomfortable, was her second thought. That was probably a board digging into her back.
Of course, her first thought hadn’t really been made up of any words, more like whatever explosion of combined shock and disbelief created.
Because Kyouya Ootori had snapped.
It occurred to her that leaving him waiting for a month might have had something to do with her present circumstance.
Not that she was really thinking about this, because she wasn’t.
Because his tongue was against her lips.
But it was the sound of a frustration and passion he could no longer hold in that finally blew all thoughts away, except the one that encouraged her to press closer, to give him her answer in this moment, rather than any other that had passed or would pass in the future.
Haruhi wasn’t sure if he’d gotten the message, though, since when they broke for air and she took a deep breath to tell him, he moved right back to her mouth, in a gesture that seemed intended to keep her from talking, rather than an unstoppable desire to kiss her.
So she pushed at his shoulders until he finally backed away, his eyes more guarded than she had ever seen them, an expression of near-uncertainty on his face.
From that alone, she knew she was making the right decision. It would be equal - an unbalancing for both.
“Yes,” she said, and since Kyouya was not at all an idiot, he got it.
The flash of satisfaction on his face she ignored; perhaps for the future she should have, but Haruhi was too used to merely glancing away from those aspects of his personality. Besides, she had taken a month.
He gave a soft exhale, which she understood as relief. Haruhi quirked one brow, asking.
“I told myself six weeks,” he answered, and her silence encouraged him to continue.
After a second of looking undecided, he said, “I was going to have the patience to wait six weeks before asking you again.”
She gave him a small smile.
“It hasn’t been six weeks,” she informed him, with characteristicly precise reason, and the corner of his mouth curled up with humor.
“True. But I’m sure that counted as an interrogation.”
After a moment of searching his eyes, she shrugged.
“I already knew you can be ruthless,” she said.
His eyelids slide to half-mast as he regarded her, trying yet again to figure out just how Haruhi Fujioka's mind worked; perhaps that shield was effective on other people, but she could clearly see the spark in his eyes that told of the thoughts whirring beyond the surface.
Just as she thought it was a good time to return to the 3rd Music Room, he bent down to her ear.
“Six months. That’s all the time I can give you,” he said, and his breath ticked the hairs over her ear. It wasn’t that, though, that made her shudder. The words, the tone…
There was a different smile on his face when he pulled back, barely there, but enough to surprise her all the same.
When he bent again and brushed the lightest of kisses across her lips, she blushed, and the knowledge that she was blushing, of all things, prolonged that fact. By the time she had settled back into her usual, calm mien, he was stepping into the host club.
He had her up against something uncomfortable, was her second thought. That was probably a board digging into her back.
Of course, her first thought hadn’t really been made up of any words, more like whatever explosion of combined shock and disbelief created.
Because Kyouya Ootori had snapped.
It occurred to her that leaving him waiting for a month might have had something to do with her present circumstance.
Not that she was really thinking about this, because she wasn’t.
Because his tongue was against her lips.
But it was the sound of a frustration and passion he could no longer hold in that finally blew all thoughts away, except the one that encouraged her to press closer, to give him her answer in this moment, rather than any other that had passed or would pass in the future.
Haruhi wasn’t sure if he’d gotten the message, though, since when they broke for air and she took a deep breath to tell him, he moved right back to her mouth, in a gesture that seemed intended to keep her from talking, rather than an unstoppable desire to kiss her.
So she pushed at his shoulders until he finally backed away, his eyes more guarded than she had ever seen them, an expression of near-uncertainty on his face.
From that alone, she knew she was making the right decision. It would be equal - an unbalancing for both.
“Yes,” she said, and since Kyouya was not at all an idiot, he got it.
The flash of satisfaction on his face she ignored; perhaps for the future she should have, but Haruhi was too used to merely glancing away from those aspects of his personality. Besides, she had taken a month.
He gave a soft exhale, which she understood as relief. Haruhi quirked one brow, asking.
“I told myself six weeks,” he answered, and her silence encouraged him to continue.
After a second of looking undecided, he said, “I was going to have the patience to wait six weeks before asking you again.”
She gave him a small smile.
“It hasn’t been six weeks,” she informed him, with characteristicly precise reason, and the corner of his mouth curled up with humor.
“True. But I’m sure that counted as an interrogation.”
After a moment of searching his eyes, she shrugged.
“I already knew you can be ruthless,” she said.
His eyelids slide to half-mast as he regarded her, trying yet again to figure out just how Haruhi Fujioka's mind worked; perhaps that shield was effective on other people, but she could clearly see the spark in his eyes that told of the thoughts whirring beyond the surface.
Just as she thought it was a good time to return to the 3rd Music Room, he bent down to her ear.
“Six months. That’s all the time I can give you,” he said, and his breath ticked the hairs over her ear. It wasn’t that, though, that made her shudder. The words, the tone…
There was a different smile on his face when he pulled back, barely there, but enough to surprise her all the same.
When he bent again and brushed the lightest of kisses across her lips, she blushed, and the knowledge that she was blushing, of all things, prolonged that fact. By the time she had settled back into her usual, calm mien, he was stepping into the host club.