Hello my lovely readers! This is yet another one-shot to add to my Kyouya/Haruhi collection! Yay! I am really pleased with how this turned out, though I cannot fathom why or how I wrote this completely angsty fic...filled with Kyouya/Haruhi goodness! Rated T for sexual themes and angst. Enjoy!
As always, I only own the laptop I type on and my ideas...everything else belongs to the wonderful world of Ouran and it's creator Bisco!
She sat up against the headboard, typing on her computer and totally ignoring him, as usual. She always got a larger rise out of him through total excommunication. He'd been gone again, leaving her up here to wait for him while he fraternized down at the party his parents held for him. She hated when he left her alone. If anything, she wanted to be by his side forever. Even still, he had to know how much he hurt her when he wasn't by her side.
She could feel his gaze on her as he kicked off his shoes after locking the door. Her eyes never left the screen in front of her, too-bright in the dark room. Regardless, she refused to turn on the lights when he left, partly because no one knew she was in his room, partly because she wanted him to see the significance of the darkened room. Wanted him to see how her world was dark without him.
He knew he hurt her, but he couldn't help it. It was all he could do not to break down into tears at the sight of her typing away on the keys, not paying attention to him. He could see the hardness in her jaw and the anguish in her eyes. She needed him, and he failed her continuously.
He didn't know why he did what he did. Or, rather, he didn't want to admit it. Because deep within his soul he knew exactly why he kept her up in his room, hidden from the rest of his family. He wanted her for himself, and he knew that if he brought her out into his world, his brothers would pounce on her. She was strong and beautiful, a splendid bride and a gorgeous woman. Any man would be lucky to have her, and she chose him. Out of all the boys in Ouran, she chose him.
He knew he had to be better for her, but it was hard. All his life things had come easily for him, but this, what he had with her, this was different. This was special, and very much so hard. He relished the challenge, but also her affection.
"The party went well," he told her quietly. She made no move to recognize his comment or, furthermore, his prescience. She was punishing him; exactly what he deserved. He slipped the jacket off of his shoulders, the tie and shirt following quickly after. He knew she loved it when he lay next to her, shirtless, and he knew he loved it even more.
He took off the belt around his waist and set his glasses on the table next to the bathroom door. Walking into the bathroom and turning on the light, he closed the door and took one long, hard look at himself in the mirror. His dark hair was casually messy, exactly like she liked it, and his grey eyes shone with barely-held-back passion. He wanted, no, needed her to see how much he loved her and how much it hurt him to be away from her. But it was all necessary for her and her future. How could she not see that everything he did was for her? That every time he was away from her it was to cement her law school funding and future jobs as a lawyer? He wanted more than anything for her to realize he supported her ambition to pursue a career as a lawyer more than anyone else.
He opened the door and shut off the light, walking over to the immense bed where she sat, directly in the middle, in her spot. The same spot she sat in each time he left her. She never left from that spot when he was gone. It was the spot where he slept each night; the spot that smelled the most like him.
He moved to sit beside her and pushed a strand of hair away from her brown eyes. "I love you," he whispered in her ear, grazing the skin with his lips. He felt her shiver slightly, but her resolve refused to crumble. She was channeling all her energy into making him pay, and she wouldn't let him come in with his same old tricks and make her feel all good and warm inside and forget why she was mad in the first place; not again.
His hands trailed down to her shirt and started to slip the buttons undone one by one as he lips attacked her neck. They'd been together so long he knew how to make her moan and sigh; knew how to make her scream his name as they made love.
Her fingers froze for a second on the keys as his lips latched on to the sweet spot on her neck and abused it, no doubt leaving a mark for the whole world to see; not that either of them cared. At the end of the day, she was putty in his hands, and he loved her all the more for it.
"Put down the computer and come to me," he whispered in her ear again, parting his lips to latch on to her ear lobe. She sighed and tilted her ear closer to his mouth.
"We have to talk later," she whispered, realizing he was taking advantage of her weakness and wanting to get her point across before she lost it completely.
"We have all the time in the world to talk…later," he stopped and moved his computer to the bedside table, forgetting to close it in his haste to get back to his lover. "For now," he leaned over her, forcing her to slide down the headboard to lay flat underneath him, "let me love you."
She closed her eyes for a moment before looking back into his. "How could I not," she whispered, her resolve finally shattering to a million pieces. He pushed her shirt completely away from her skin, exposing her to him completely, and the explored each other's body for the rest of the night in the light of the computer screen.
Did you like it? Review and tell me what you thought!