How Did I End Up With Them? (OHSHC)

Someone Else

You know what was the last thing I expected to see walking into the Host Club the next day?

Them cross dressing.

Now, I've seen them dressed as anything under the sun at this point, but this, this is a new level of extravagant for Tamaki. When even Haruhi laughed - and I mean bending over with tears in her eyes laughing out loud - then you know it had to be extreme.

With the majority dressed in poofy dresses that look like they should have stayed in their era, they looked the part of whatever 'family plan' they wanted for Haruhi. Their logic was that if Haru was even the least inclined to attend Lobelia it was because of the appeal of having female friends, which, according to them, she lacks. Granted, I berated him for it later until he retreated into the emo corner. In a weird way, though, I'll say it worked.

They decided to give her sisters. Bring the female population to her instead. It offended the Zuka Club members of course, but that didn't bother so much. I was focused on seeing Haruhi having the time of her life. I stayed near the windows observing how Haru was more comfortable now then she was when we first started out as members of the Host Club.

Letting a barely noticeable smile sit on my face, I rested my head on my palm. The Lobelia girls had just strutted out, claiming they'd 'return to fetch their maidens another day.' Yeah, they made some last minute decision to kidnap me too. Lovely.

"You know," I drawled, standing up from my seat, "you guys didn't have to go to this extreme." I walked over to the group of boys that were spread out around the central coffee table and velvet seats.

Haruhi tried stifling another snicker. "You can try explaining to them. I just got upset about my pencil," she said now to the still made up members. "And besides, the grocery store was having a sale, so I couldn't stay."

Nodding, I suddenly felt an arm slither around my waist from behind and knew without even looking that it had to be one of them. "You know, as much as I love you guys, seeing you all in dressing is really unnerving me a bit. You especially, Tamaki." I tried to bite back the joy from my voice while Kaoru had his arm around me. 

He's cute. He's precious. The only downside is that his makeup is so bad. You'd think after years of being in fashion they'd know how to do it, and yet it looks this disastrous. All I really want to do now is smear it off and just see his smile and that's it and that's pretty enough for me-

I squeaked  at the thought that crossed my mind, silently cursing him and his brother for messing with me again. As the others continued with whatever they decided to talk about now, I checked my watch once more, - acutely aware of the warmth radiating from Kaoru and the tightening, affectionate hold as I moved - and decided now would probably be the most effective time for the club to prepare for hosting. You know, before I burst into flames and - well, great, now his chin is on my head. Remember what you said, he's your friend. Nothing more. Just calm down. 

"Alright!" I clapped my hands, unwilling to slide away from Kaoru's embrace, but also both excited and nervous to see what else would happen if I stayed there. "Guests should be coming in pretty soon, so start getting ready, you guys." The conversations all diminished one by one as the group collectively headed to remove the makeup and bulky dresses, or in Mori's case, the Prince Charming-like suit he had consented to wearing. Exhaling withh relief, I turned to Haru and I saw that look she had. The quirked brow. The teasing smile. And of course, her eyes, shifting between the changing room Kaoru chose and me.

"So," she started, "you never did tell me what happened at the beach. You got better all of a sudden." The amusement was gone and confusion replaced it. "We got home and you just went straight to helping me cook, that was weird enough. And then yesteday you had to leave and you didn't bother coming over." She was right in front of me now, her eyes a mix of that worry and slight knowing gaze as if there was no need to tell her what happened.