(no subject)
As he refolded the tiny slip of pink paper into some origami fowl or mammal or heavenly object, he couldn’t help but think that this was, in some way, Clow’s Fault. Because everything was so much nicer as his fault.
The teacher droned on, and he unfolded his misshapen duck-thing. There, in an irritatingly innocuous script, was the same name.
Daidouji Tomoyo.
It just had to be Clow.
Honestly, who else would give him her for a secret Valentine’s Day gift exchange? Because, really, it wasn’t enough that he’d been pining after her for six years and roughly eight months from the day that she opened the door to Sakura’s house following that whole Void nonsense.
Because, frankly, it wasn’t enough that he’d moved back home in an attempt to stay away, only to find her sitting in the lobby of his apartment complex halfway across the globe.
Because, truthfully, it wasn’t enough that he had to be her best friend and confidante and de facto date and substitute father and brother and just spend every waking moment with her (and every other moment thinking about her).
The bell rang, and instantly the classroom began shuffling around, moving papers and books into large bags. Eriol crumpled the slip into a ball, tossing it in the trash on the way out.
Because it wasn’t as if he was going to forget-
“Eriol!”
-exactly. He smiled in greeting (not that he could voluntarily refrain from doing so). “How was your final?”
“Not fair at all. There was definitely material there that we weren’t supposed to have covered.”
“Yet, the next sentence out of your mouth shall be,” he mimicked a high falsetto, “But I managed to squeeze in a 27th hour in my day, after curing cancer and before solving world hunger.”
She simply smiled back in response, apparently deciding against making a retort. “That doesn’t even merit a response, Eriol, and you know it. Where’re you headed?”
“Home. I have an incredible amount of work to do, despite it being finals week.”
“What a coincidence! You can carry my books for me.”
Eriol groaned good-naturedly while taking the proffered texts. “It’s not as if you carry around textbooks or anything, you know.”
“But I’m so frail and weak. And pale, you know how Mother is about my being pale.” She waved a thin wrist in front of his face, unknowingly wafting perfume.
Eriol concentrated on not going cross-eyed. “Yes, yes, so weak that you muscled your way onto the management board of our beloved complex.”
“Speaking of which, I’m sure that you went and picked up your Valentine’s Day assignment?”
Now he had to concentrate on not blushing. Syaoran, he mused, would be highly amused. “Yes, I did. Why, did you?”
“What sort of a question is that? Of course. My idea, anyhow, and don’t you dare say anything. I see that look on your face.”
Eriol shut his mouth pointedly before replying, “I wasn’t planning on being negative. I think it’s a…” His brain had apparently decided to go on hiatus. “It’s a great way to spread around the cheer of the holidays.”
“Nice catch. Don’t think I didn’t see that fumble. So…?”
“So…?”
“Oh, come on.”
Eriol gave her a look. “It would appear I am doing so.”
“Eriol…”
“Tomoyo…”
“Don’t you play coy, that’s my job.”
“It’s not playacting, it’s genuine confusion.”
Tomoyo huffed. “Who do you have? Obviously.”
“Well, obviously it’s not that obvious. Besides, isn’t it supposed to be a secret? Hence the name?”
“Pish posh. I want to know.”
Eriol could feel his heart thudding in his ears, but he forced himself to answer lightly. “Well, then, I suppose you’ll have to find out at the final unveiling dinner.”
“Oh, fine. Be that way. I won’t tell you who I have either.”
“Well…oh, look. Home sweet home.” Eriol looked up at their complex, the stately building which compromised some of off-campus dwelling, and privately noted that the walk here had never been longer.
They both walked silently inside, preoccupying themselves with pulling out their room keys and coaxing the ancient elevator to make it all the way up to the top floor.
Once there, Tomoyo turned to him, easily taking back her books. “Don’t think I won’t find out who you have.”
Eriol grinned widely, knowing himself to be channeling the Cheshire-
“Don’t do that, you know that face creeps people out. Honestly, it’s as if you’re that crazy cat from the Alice movie. The Cheshire Cat.”
The grin dropped off his face immediately. Smiling normally, he tipped his head to her and moved to his room.
Damn.
Damn damn damn damn.
And, just for good measure…damn.
He could feel his daily soliloquy coming on. The one in which he asked himself, why her? Why not someone else? Anyone else? So many girls would take you without a single question? And then he answered himself in a heartbeat: Because it’s her and no one else comes close. Finally, he tortured himself, listing all the reasons why she was perfect-her smile, her eyes, her hair, her wit, her charm, her kindness, her intelligence…
Unbidden, his eyes fell on a violently pink book on his cookbook shelf. Taking it off the shelf, he noted the jam stains. Ah. Ruby Moon.
It was a book of ridiculous desserts. Normally, Eriol wasn’t much of a dessert person, preferring to stick with simple cheese and fruit dishes. Tomoyo, however…she had developed quite a sweet tooth…
Eriol sat at his kitchen table, absentmindedly flipping through the book. He could hear Ruby and even Spinel in his head, chastising him for being such a weakling. “Eriol, do something already.”
“Hai, Eriol-sama, Ruby might have a point for once.”
“I always have a point, Suppi. Whether or not you acknowledge it is a different matter.”
“Perhaps something out of the ordinary? Daidouji-sama is no ordinary girl.”
“You can’t give Tomoyo-chan flowers. Honestly. Tomoyo-chan is the type of girl who coordinates every outfit down to the-well, let’s just down to the last detail.”
“Don’t encourage him, Ruby, he’s bad enough as it is. Look, he’s off again, daydreaming.”
“That’s not my fault. I’m trying to help him with unique suggestions that will show Tomoyo-chan that he’s not the frumpy Eriol who she’s known for a million years. It’s his loss if he dazes off.”
Eriol shook his head, trying to clear the remnants of his guardians’ voices. The book flopped open to a point where the spine had been cracked, obviously by Ruby in (failed) attempt to make…Seductive Snickerdoodles? Enticing Éclairs? Charming Cupcakes? What was this book?
He flipped to the table of contents. Easy 30-Minute, International, Cold…ah. Holiday Desserts.
Suddenly, with all the subtlety of a ton of bricks, it hit him.
Tomoyo, for reasons completely unknown, loved Valentine’s Day, despite never having been in a serious relationship during the day. He, after having experienced the holiday a number of significant times, had never expressed any particular interest one way or another.
He would, he decided, go all out this year. After all, she wouldn’t know until the last night. There were two presents, plus the final present on the actual day itself. He could save the baking for later, and then…well, Spinel said that Tomoyo was too special to receive ordinary flowers. Surely extraordinary flowers would do the trick?
Grabbing the phonebook and the cordless, he settled down.
~
“Oh, Eriol, look out!”
Eriol froze, and then looked at where Tomoyo was pointing. At his feet was a small, non-descript box that bore the university’s logo. “What’s this?” Recognizing the packaging from the school store, he opened it and found a small key chain with the school logo. An accompanying note, also on a school-store-card, said ‘I think you’re really hot and smart. Please be mine?,’ with a number of grotesque smiling faces.
“Let me see. I think I…oh, I definitely recognize that handwriting.” She giggled, apparently thrilled. “It’s so cute. Just wait.”
Eriol smiled back, protesting only weakly when she insisted on looping his newfound gift onto his keys.
“There. Doesn’t that look nice? She’ll be thrilled, really.”
“See, Tomoyo, the thing is that…I…sort of…don’t really…”
“Yes? Can we walk and talk? I have an important lecture, I need a good seat.”
Eriol nodded mutely, casting around for something to say. As the elevator descended, he felt himself get slightly frantic. What had he been thinking? The minute the doors opened, waiting would be-
“Miss Tomoyo Daidouji?”
Tomoyo gave Eriol a confused look before affirming, “Yes?”
“I have a shipment for you.”
“Oh, Ms. Daidouji, one here too.”
“I have another!”
“A fourth’s over here, after these guys.”
Eriol noted how Tomoyo’s eyes widened with a small bit of satisfaction. In front of them were four highly unique flower arrangements. He had called the top four florists in area, told each to make something out of their oddest flowers, and then asked for delivery.
Tomoyo signed off on all four bouquets, her face perfectly composed. Once all the delivery men had left, she casually turned around and headed for the elevator, subtly stomping on his foot as she did so.
As soon as the doors slid shut, she turned to him, her arms full. “This is ridiculous!”
Eriol blinked once, twice, trying to find a suitable response. “I’m sorry?”
“How can you not find this absurd? Four? I mean, sure, one. Maybe even a single, beautiful red rose. But four? Granted, they are all very different looking, and they smell great, but…”
The floor dinged, and she exited. “Hold on for one second, I’ll be right back out. Argh, I really wanted that seat, too…”
Eriol nodded at her back, unable to think of anything else to say.