He Could (Ouran Ficcage)
Title: He Could
Author: Nicluv1787
Rating: K
Genre: Romance, a dash of introspective
CU/AU: CU(Anime)
Prompt: Jealous
Characters: Tamaki & Haruhi
Words: 726
Summary: Tamaki reflects on nearly leaving it all behind…
A/N: For browneyedmami who wanted some jealous Tamaki. :D
He had to step back and let this surreal moment wash over him. He nearly couldn’t believe he was here; that he’d almost left it all behind. Nearly left her behind, Haruhi, his little girl, his secret princess… but no longer his secret princess; the cat was out of the bag so to speak. There would be explaining to do, soon enough. But for now, he wanted his family all together. The orchestra music washed over him, the school at large ungulated around him. Girls fluttered about him; his engagement to Éclair had stung everyone, he was foolish to think it wouldn’t hurt others, thinking that’s what everyone wanted, including The Host Club. He’d spend a long time making it up to his princesses, not that he minded; he loved them all, in his own way.
The tempo picked up, across the floor he watched as Honey took Haruhi’s hand in his own, leading her onto the dance floor. He swung her around, in his charmingly child like fashion. The green eyed monster, the one he most closely associated with his protective streak for his little girl, reared its ugly head. Dipping low to his lady companions, he excused himself before pushing through the crowd.
He’d just have to cut in. Returning on the carriage, there’d been barely a moment to speak with Haruhi, and now seemed as good as a time as any.
Half way across the floor, Mori took the lead, taking hold of Haruhi by the waist. The pair of them swayed across the dance floor. The small veins in his temple throbbed, but he kept up his princely charms, smoothly gliding across the dance floor. It was only Mori, he reasoned, he has no interest in being Haruhi’s daddy… no not daddy… Haruhi wasn’t a little girl, she was a young woman; he could see that now. Why had he been so blind to this before? She was a desirable young woman, maybe Mori did… want… he couldn’t continue the thought.
He picked up his pace stomping across the dance floor, Kaoru had taken her up. They moved together rather well, he’d have to admit, but he couldn’t think about that, by now he was running. He had to protect her, like she protected him… his Haruhi. Yes, that’s right she was his… how could he have been so blind as to leave her behind. He kept a straight face marching over, as Hikaru took his short turn, his arm limiting his dancing. They laughed together, and Tamaki had to bite off a smart retort, no one should be laughing with Haruhi but him right now. It should just be the two of them…
A blush stained his cheeks, only for a moment. Then she turned those doe eyes on him, he gave her his best princely smile, held out his hand, she’d nearly taken it when Kyouya swept in.
Now he really was riled up, he stomped after them flailing his arms, in a most un-princely manner. Kyouya of all people should have known; how could he? Didn’t he realize… didn’t he know that Tamaki he was… how could Tamaki describe this feeling, when he wasn’t quite sure of it himself.
Kyouya twirled her into Tamaki’s arms. Her slight pressure fit so perfectly there. His hands tentatively wrapped around her, and she stared up him, with those eyes… he held back a compulsory squeal --she could make him melt or make him swell with pride in just one look-. Her body fell into his as they swayed to the music. This is how it should be, this was his Haruhi.
A crashing boom filled the air, as the pair of them looked to the sky where fireworks left ribbons of light into the sky. The others seemed to fade away; his concerns seemed to melt away. All there was, was him and Haruhi.
He pulled her in close, tilting her chin back so their eyes met. Her expression danced with uncertainty, but he knew, he knew she understood.
He leaned in, his breath on the shell of her ear, “Thank you, Haruhi. Thank you, for saving me.”
She only smiled in return, and he knew for sure then, this feeling it was the feeling that he could fall in love with her. That he was falling in love with her.