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He didn't get a wink of sleep that night, but little did he know, so did Mariah.

"Your highness—" Hikaru said, "—why do you look stressed and grumpy," Kaoru finished. Honey was eating his cakes; Mori was watching him; Haruhi was with Kyoya, talking about something.

Tamaki was sulking in his emo-corner. He wanted to help her. He wanted to know why.

After that night, he didn't get a "good morning, idiot" or "ttyl."

He felt as if she was consuming him. He hated himself for thinking that she would ever love him back, but God. She gave him comfort in another way. It felt as if it was only their thing. Not the Host Club, him, and her. But theirs alone.

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