Disclaimer: Ouran is not mine.

Summary: With him, there never is silence. (Mori/Haruhi)

Author's note: I wish I was on a sugar high. Besides, constructive criticism would be greatly



Haruhi has conversations with all the hosts.

It's necessary, perhaps, since she is a host herself.

She bears Tamaki sweet talking and ranting at her.

She listens when Hunny shares fantasies about sweets with her.

She feels dread as Kyouya makes subtle threats concerning her debt.

She lets the twins occupy one of her ears each; both talking about a different topic at the same time.

The most fulfilling conversations she has though, she has with Mori.

And Mori talks.

All the time.

Really, he is doing it right now.

The whole host club is sitting at one table for once, a heavy, ugly, most likely very expensive piece of furniture, and they are having a 'commoner's tea and cake'-party in their Host Club clubroom. (The party had been one of Tamaki's ingenious ideas. There is tea and cake though, so no one, not even Haruhi, had complained.)

The twins are laughing and being a nuisance, Tamaki is trying to stab them with his fork full of chocolate cake and ranting, Kyouya is observing and every once in a while announcing the prize of the object shattered in the fight between Tamaki and the twins, and Hunny is swallowing as much sweets at once as he can and releasing soft sighs of sugary bliss.

At the same time, Mori and Haruhi, sitting opposite of each other, are having a conversation.

She watches him.

He watches her.

A scratch on his right cheek tells her he has been training more roughly lately.

The dark circles under her eyes scream at him that she has been learning deep into the night.

None of their mouths does comment.

Instead, Mori listens as Haruhi shifts her gaze to the antics of Tamaki and the twins and turns back to him, rolling big brown eyes.

The corners of Mori's mouth start laughing.

She answers by shaking her head; but the corners of her lips confide to Mori it's all make pretend, as they are laughing as well.

Then Haruhi changes the topic by swaying ever so slightly in her place.

Hard lines suddenly etched onto his face let her know he is not pleased; but the lift of his eyebrows speaks of worry.

'Nothing', the shake of her head appeases him and her left hand subtly rubs at her eyes.

'Something', his rigid stance wants to insist and the dark circles whisper screams of lack of sleep to him for another time.

However, the drop of her shoulders mentions the first signs of weariness and he himself drops the hard edges on his face.

As a peace offering, he puts the last piece of strawberry cake on her plate.

Haruhi's tired face lights up and tells a secret.

Mori's eyes hear.

He knows, there are parts of their conversations only he gets.

Like now, when red strawberries between pink lips make promises to him.

He turns his body slightly to the side.

His face betrays him and continues to watch and by doing so tells a secret of his own.

Haruhi's eyes don't hear.

They are solely focused on the cake in front of her and the soft tilt of her head is thanking him in oblivious gratitude.

Not for the first time, Mori wishes his cheeks wouldn't shout about their sudden loss of colour that sometimes occurs around Haruhi.

Another strawberry on lips implies possibilities.

His cheeks shout louder.

And suddenly, his hand touches hers and asks.

Haruhi halts another fork of strawberry cake on the way to her mouth.

Her eyes watch her free hand, now entwined with his.

Her face, suddenly looking tired again, responds with confusion.

Yet, after many conversations, there is something that is not quite tiredness sighing in dark lazy circles on Mori's face and he is tired, too.

So, he smiles in response.

Then, he elaborates by leaning forward.

The rest of the Host Club catches the end of their conversation with shocked silence, as Mori explains to Haruhi with his lip on hers.