Daily Story
So, People in real life i.e. not this blog, have been begging for a sequel to the story about Kyoya giving Haruhi a massage. I've been working on sections pertaining to the story and I shall post them here for your enjoyment.
He didn't need to feel this way. He was an Ootori, they didn't get crushes. Especially when the object of affection was a commoner. A scholarship student. Not even recognized as a girl by most people. It simply couldn't happen.
It would be a problem even if his family wasn't in the way. He still wouldn't have a chance.
Even though she seemed calm and cynical, he knewshe was far too up beat to be with someone as calculating as he was.
Crushing was such an aptly named emotion. The violent whirlwind of feeling raged upon him crushing him. They twisted his heart, and wrenched his stomach making him feel as if breathing was an impossible dream.
He'd kept these feelings to himself. Only daring to let himself think of them in the dark of late night.
He never dreamed he could act on them, it was a fantasy. , he treated it the way he treated his dream of painting when he was eleven, art and love were unreachable promises.
He had almost forgotten his torment when he opened the door to the third music room, ready to spend the afternoon balancing the budget. It wasn't his favorite past-time, but it was practice for the future.
But when he opened the door, there she was, asleep on the couch, like something out of a dream.
He didn't know what to do, should he leave?
Kyoya chided himself, typing on a laptop wouldn't wake her, and he could protect her from the other, more jarring members of the club. Let her sleep.
He sat there, taping furiously into the machine , making the numbers dance into a somewhat organized spreadsheet as the room slowly changed colors with the coming of evening.
As the sun set, the girl began to stir.
"This isn't your private nap room you know."
He didn't need to feel this way. He was an Ootori, they didn't get crushes. Especially when the object of affection was a commoner. A scholarship student. Not even recognized as a girl by most people. It simply couldn't happen.
It would be a problem even if his family wasn't in the way. He still wouldn't have a chance.
Even though she seemed calm and cynical, he knewshe was far too up beat to be with someone as calculating as he was.
Crushing was such an aptly named emotion. The violent whirlwind of feeling raged upon him crushing him. They twisted his heart, and wrenched his stomach making him feel as if breathing was an impossible dream.
He'd kept these feelings to himself. Only daring to let himself think of them in the dark of late night.
He never dreamed he could act on them, it was a fantasy. , he treated it the way he treated his dream of painting when he was eleven, art and love were unreachable promises.
He had almost forgotten his torment when he opened the door to the third music room, ready to spend the afternoon balancing the budget. It wasn't his favorite past-time, but it was practice for the future.
But when he opened the door, there she was, asleep on the couch, like something out of a dream.
He didn't know what to do, should he leave?
Kyoya chided himself, typing on a laptop wouldn't wake her, and he could protect her from the other, more jarring members of the club. Let her sleep.
He sat there, taping furiously into the machine , making the numbers dance into a somewhat organized spreadsheet as the room slowly changed colors with the coming of evening.
As the sun set, the girl began to stir.
"This isn't your private nap room you know."