Walls

Pale, slender hands rubbed against the fine cotton twill of his pants as the Host Club’s Shadow King crossed a leg over the other and leaned back in the finely upholstered lounge chair. Watching the dramatics of Tamaki as the blond all but wibbled over the club female and leave as the man realized that once again, his affections were flatly ignored.

For a man that was obsessed over how many hours compared to the twins that he spent with Fujioka, Tamaki never took into account just how much he left Haruhi alone with Kyouya.

Pushing his glasses back onto his nose, he uncrossed his leg as Haruhi was softly shoved into the room he occupied and stood.

Haruhi immediately spun and cast a glare akin to wide-eyed horror, because she knows exacty what could happen.

She knows exactly what will happen as she finds herself pinned back against the wall, the position oh-so familiar because he’s done this before.

He’s done the turning the lights off before, back at the Nekozawa mansion, when he tried to teach her, pinned her to the bed, and hovered over her like a man would.

Like a man would feather his lips against her neck as she felt his body line up and warm hers against the cool wall.