Disclaimer-I don't own Ouran High School Host Club.
A/N- Entry for the "Roses" challenge for the brand new LJ comm, ouran contest.
The rose, Tamaki decided, must be the best way to Haruhi's heart. After all, the rose was the symbol of beauty and love, a lovely flower that was sure to melt her heart.
But perhaps a full bouquet was far too much; after all, such bold displays did not seem to be Haruhi's taste.
Just one then, Tamaki decided, plucking his favorite rose from the garden on his way to school. He smiled, twirling it deftly between his fingertips as he entered the school.
What luck! Haruhi was passing by him at that moment. Swiftly, he reached out with one hand, spinning her around to face him, holding the rose tightly in his other.
"For you," Tamaki breathed in his best "Host" voice possible, holding the flower to her face. "To represent your Daddy's affection toward you!"
Haruhi blinked, arching her eyebrow slowly.
"Uh... Sempai... it's cutting into your hand."
Tamaki looked down.
Even though she knew that she'd be late if she did it, and even though Tamaki annoyed her more often than not, Haruhi simply couldn't leave him screaming in the hallway.
Besides, his screaming would end up disrupting class.
So, she dragged him, not kicking but still screaming, all the way down to the infirmary.
"Quit screaming, it's only a few small cuts." Haruhi muttered, glancing back at Tamaki. "It's your own fault for not taking out the thorns beforehand."
"But-but-but Haruhi..." Tamaki whimpered, tears bubbling in his eyes.
"No crying!" Haruhi grumbled, opening the door to the infirmary with one hand. Absently, she noticed that it was more like a hospital than a simple school infirmary, but at the moment, Tamaki's pained expression caught her attention.
"Oh my! I'll get you some antiseptic and a band-aid." The nurse, a kind looking woman in her twenties, smiled widely. "You must be a very good friend to Tamaki to take him all the way to the infirmary."
"Not really." Haruhi muttered. Luckily, Tamaki was out of ear shot, sitting on a nearby bed, stilling clutching his hand with watery eyes.
Just for a moment, Haruhi was reminded of a little boy, crying for his mother after a small cut.
His mother... Haruhi's eyes softened and she sat down next to him on the bed. "Does it really hurt?" she asked gently, glancing at him.
Tamaki smiled widely. "No, not really."
Haruhi poked his hand.
"It does hurt, idiot." Haruhi scolded, frowning.
After a moment of silence, Tamaki looked upwards, a wistful expression on his normally sunny face. "You know... I remember the last time I cut my hand on a rose, trying to pick it for my mother. She kissed my cut, and for some reason, I felt much better."
Haruhi wrinkled her nose. "That's not really sanitary."
Tamaki chuckled, and then laughed.
Haruhi would never change.
"I suppose it's not," he said, smiling.
Only to freeze, shocked, as he felt a light kiss against his cheek.
Haruhi pulled back, smiling softly.