five times tamaki wanted to die, and one time he did
five times tamaki wanted to die, and one time he did
haruhi/kaoru. haruhi/mori. haruhi/kasanoda. haruhi/kyouya. haruhi/hikaru. haruhi/tamaki. pg13. 643.
His skin bubbles where they touch, arms wrapped tightly around her thin shoulders; he feels like he should be careful not to crush her.
for sahara_storm. <3
kaoru
She can trace dots connecting points of their skin and the mathematical equations would always end up equal -- eyes shining at the same brightness, voice matching perfect pitch.
They are completely different people.
But that's common knowledge, common sense: Hikaru would fix it, Kaoru would talk it into fixing itself.
Kaoru understands, like telepathy, like signals you never thought you were sending.
They could talk for hours, wasting away the daylight and freely spending the stars, and she would never grow tired.
But that's a lie: she would, and he would laugh and cover her up to her chin, staying awake just a little longer.
---
mori
She feels like spun glass in his rough fingers, delicately balanced and gently handled with care and precision.
She doesn't believe he'll ever let go.
He knows exactly what she needs, at any point in time, magical meters beeping behind his eyes as he brings her food, water, kisses.
In the morning she wakes to the smell of his cooking in the air and his body in the sheets, and she wouldn't mind a life like this for the rest of forever.
---
kasanoda
The way he blushes makes his hot red hair clash terribly, and she laughs. He stutters over his sentences like a stuck key but eventually he says what he needs, in words she purposely misconstrues with a smile.
After enough time his shyness fades (a little), and he tries, he does -- hands fumbling at the buttons of her shirt before she has to ask, What's this? and he says I thought you wanted.
She gives him a bright grin and asks him if they can go somewhere.
He has no choice but to follow.
---
kyouya
He thinks this is what he wants, hair hanging down into his eyes like curtains shielding him from the rest of the world, palms pressed flat to either side of her face.
Those eyes -- they're not afraid at all, are they?
She can see through his skin like glass into his fleeting heart, unamused and unaffected by what she finds there.
Is there anyone who could do the same?
You're a nice person, she says, and he wants to laugh -- but it's stuck in his throat like tears and promises.
I'm not, he should tell her, but even he doesn't know if it's true.
---
hikaru
She's so unaware of the effect she has on him, blindly adjusting all of his emotional and physical responses to best fit her needs. They're two inches apart -- no, one -- and he thinks, Finally she sees, only for her to tilt her head and call him friend the next day.
His skin bubbles where they touch, arms wrapped tightly around her thin shoulders; he feels like he should be careful not to crush her.
Kaoru tells me you like me? she asks him quizzically one day. He wants to roll his eyes at how obvious it all is, but he's getting better at not hurting her feelings.
It's not like it matters, and it's the truest thing he's ever said.
---
tamaki
This?
Racks upon racks of clothing, designer (no doubt), tailored to fit her every curve and hug the planes of her body.
Or this?
A wide array of sweets, of delicacies, molten money poured into plates and served with spun sugar -- all spread on a silk tablecloth in front of her wide eyes.
An amazed sound emerges like a little bird, and then she's on her tiptoes, bracing herself against his shoulders, smiling as she kisses him.
It takes a full two seconds before he holds her around her waist, picking her up off the ground and molding their bodies together.
When they break apart, their grins match.
Tamaki, you try too hard.
*
haruhi/kaoru. haruhi/mori. haruhi/kasanoda. haruhi/kyouya. haruhi/hikaru. haruhi/tamaki. pg13. 643.
His skin bubbles where they touch, arms wrapped tightly around her thin shoulders; he feels like he should be careful not to crush her.
for sahara_storm. <3
kaoru
She can trace dots connecting points of their skin and the mathematical equations would always end up equal -- eyes shining at the same brightness, voice matching perfect pitch.
They are completely different people.
But that's common knowledge, common sense: Hikaru would fix it, Kaoru would talk it into fixing itself.
Kaoru understands, like telepathy, like signals you never thought you were sending.
They could talk for hours, wasting away the daylight and freely spending the stars, and she would never grow tired.
But that's a lie: she would, and he would laugh and cover her up to her chin, staying awake just a little longer.
---
mori
She feels like spun glass in his rough fingers, delicately balanced and gently handled with care and precision.
She doesn't believe he'll ever let go.
He knows exactly what she needs, at any point in time, magical meters beeping behind his eyes as he brings her food, water, kisses.
In the morning she wakes to the smell of his cooking in the air and his body in the sheets, and she wouldn't mind a life like this for the rest of forever.
---
kasanoda
The way he blushes makes his hot red hair clash terribly, and she laughs. He stutters over his sentences like a stuck key but eventually he says what he needs, in words she purposely misconstrues with a smile.
After enough time his shyness fades (a little), and he tries, he does -- hands fumbling at the buttons of her shirt before she has to ask, What's this? and he says I thought you wanted.
She gives him a bright grin and asks him if they can go somewhere.
He has no choice but to follow.
---
kyouya
He thinks this is what he wants, hair hanging down into his eyes like curtains shielding him from the rest of the world, palms pressed flat to either side of her face.
Those eyes -- they're not afraid at all, are they?
She can see through his skin like glass into his fleeting heart, unamused and unaffected by what she finds there.
Is there anyone who could do the same?
You're a nice person, she says, and he wants to laugh -- but it's stuck in his throat like tears and promises.
I'm not, he should tell her, but even he doesn't know if it's true.
---
hikaru
She's so unaware of the effect she has on him, blindly adjusting all of his emotional and physical responses to best fit her needs. They're two inches apart -- no, one -- and he thinks, Finally she sees, only for her to tilt her head and call him friend the next day.
His skin bubbles where they touch, arms wrapped tightly around her thin shoulders; he feels like he should be careful not to crush her.
Kaoru tells me you like me? she asks him quizzically one day. He wants to roll his eyes at how obvious it all is, but he's getting better at not hurting her feelings.
It's not like it matters, and it's the truest thing he's ever said.
---
tamaki
This?
Racks upon racks of clothing, designer (no doubt), tailored to fit her every curve and hug the planes of her body.
Or this?
A wide array of sweets, of delicacies, molten money poured into plates and served with spun sugar -- all spread on a silk tablecloth in front of her wide eyes.
An amazed sound emerges like a little bird, and then she's on her tiptoes, bracing herself against his shoulders, smiling as she kisses him.
It takes a full two seconds before he holds her around her waist, picking her up off the ground and molding their bodies together.
When they break apart, their grins match.
Tamaki, you try too hard.
*