Hero | ohshc

XXVI

 Haruhi caught me and stabilized my frame before walking down the steps.

I heard a round of gasps and Tamaki's dejected scream, and that's when my body decided to shut itself down. Oh god.

-

One minute you're at a party then the next you wake up in a stranger's room, with a pounding headache, and the nervous thoughts of, "what the fuck happened?" Running through your head.

That basically described every American teenager's Saturday morning after a night of extreme partying and playing around.

Oh, but it gets worse.

The nervousness increases when you wake up with no clothes on. That my friend, Is when you have the right to have an emotional breakdown. But thankfully, I don't have to worry about that (too much) considering I woke up in someone else's clothes other than my own.

I sat up in the large bed and stared at the room I was currently held in. 

The room smelled of dark roast coffee, caramel, and the heavy scent of Stetson Black, Takashi's cologne. There was a large bed with a black duvet and dark red pillows, and two bedside tables one with a lamp and an alarm clock.

Another dressing table sat on the other side of the bed with my phone plugged in being charged and a picture frame containing a photo of the host club, and another photo of the Haninozuka's and Morinozuka's.

I noticed one small frame behind the two, and I rolled on my stomach and reached for it. I looked at the picture and saw it was a clipping from one of the host club photo books, coming from my photo book. 

I glanced up quickly at the bookshelf that sat in the corner and noticed all of Honey's and his photo books, and all of mine.

It was a picture of me elegantly sitting in my brother's 'king' chair, with a deadly smirk on my face and a long white cape pooling at the feet of my crossed legs. One elbow was on the armrest with my right cheek resting on the back of my hand. Black rose petals decorated the floor around me and my lap. Honey stood at my left side, a dead serious look on his face as he held just the hand of Usa-Chan in his left hand, the pink bunny dangling from his grasp. Takashi stood behind the chair a serious look on his face as well, but his eyes held a look that basically screamed, "if you touch her, I'll kill you."

To be honest, I absolutely love this picture.

Instead of placing it back behind the two picture frames, I rolled across the bed and set the small picture next to his black digital alarm clock. That way whenever he checks the time early in the morning when he first wakes up, he'll see Honey, himself, and I.

I looked around his room from the bed, staring at the poster covered white walls. Posters of famous martial arts and kung fu masters and actors such as Jackie Chan and Bruce Lee adorned the rich wooden walls. I noticed a few movie posters like the Korean action movie: The Suspect, James Bond, RED, and plenty of other action movie posters. 

He had a bookshelf full of books, textbooks, DVDs, and CDs. Next to it was an oak wood and glass trophy case full of Kendo and martial arts medals, trophies, and awards.

A desk sat next to a grey curtained window, looking over the front of the lawns. Takashi's grey blazer was draped over the back of the desk chair, with my heels and dress sitting neatly in the seat. 

I stared groggily at the grey ceiling with a headache pulsing at my temples. I yawned quietly and rubbed my left shoulder, brushing aside the large white T-shirt collar. I tugged my legs out the tangled white sheets that threatened to keep me trapped all day.