A/N: This is mainly focused on Haruhi and Tamaki. As such, "she" is always Haruhi, and "he" is most always Tamaki, unless otherwise stated. :)


Bits of Life


She would never sleep in again. One minute, she's dreaming of a gourmet meal laid out especially for her, fancy tuna and all, and the next, the fire department is breaking down her front door. When she confronts Tamaki about it later, he insists that it was for her own safety, that if she slept past nine AM, it had to be because she was in a coma or something.

Well, at least he apologized by getting her the gourmet meal.


It's sunny when she leaves the apartment. By noon, clouds have overtaken the Boston sky. When she gets out of school, it's snowing. She shivers and hugs her arms around herself, but before she can take a step, he's draped his jacket over her shoulders. She smiles and decides there are worse things than having a boyfriend.


She's never been afraid of the dark, but there's something about walking home alone at night. Every tree gives her pause, every lamppost an omen of monsters or worse. When the twins finally catch up, Kaoru scolds her for walking off alone, and though she rolls her eyes, she's relieved to find that the streets don't seem quite as scary.


He wanted it to be a romantic getaway for the two of them, a road trip to New York City to watch the sun set atop the Empire State Building. But Kyoya knew an important client there, and Honey was told to check on the local dojo, and Mori had to watch Honey, and Hikaru and Kaoru absolutely couldn't miss the fashion show that weekend because their mother would kill them, and so everyone ended up going.

She was okay with that.

He was less than pleased, and made sure everyone knew it.

No one cared.


He comes in to check on her at three in the morning, only to find her hunched over her textbook, mumbling equations as she double-checks her homework. He takes away her book, pours her coffee down the drain, and orders her to bed.

She of course doesn't listen, but she's glad for the sentiment.


"No," she tells him.


He doesn't want to go, she can tell. His mother's birthday is coming up, but he doesn't want to leave her even for a few days. She's touched, but this is ridiculous. So she pushes him into the line for security, kisses him goodbye, and leaves. She's never been one to watch the plane take off anyway.


"It's a Mayan relic from one of their ruins in Mexico," Kyoya pushes his glasses up further on his nose. "My family is loaning it to the Natural History Museum, but I'm keeping it while they prepare the exhibit."


"Oops," Hikaru and Kaoru say together.


She hates it when he goes Host on her, leaning up real close and whispering sweet nothings in her ear. Even though she knows better, she falls for it every time, wondering how his eyes can convey that much emotion.


She almost sleeps through class, and there's an exam scheduled, but something jolts her awake a mere half hour before she has to report. As she grabs her books and stumbles out the door, a piece of toast hanging from her mouth, she can't help but think that someone, somewhere, must be watching out for her.


She used to hate the sickly sweet smell, but now they remind her of home. And yet, she can't help but think of how fortunate it is that none of them have allergies.


Sometimes she wonders how he can really be that stupid. Still, she lets the twins explain it to him, and allows a smirk to spread across her face when he screeches indignantly. His naivety is endearing, in an utterly exhausting sort of way.


Hikaru uses his elective on a ceramics course. Kaoru chooses painting. She's impressed when they show her their work, proudly displayed for the school to see. She never knew they were so good at creating such unique pieces of art.

And when the ceramics teacher finds that someone switched the labels on the glaze buckets, and the painting teacher is left with Playboy magazines instead of wax fruit, she sighs at them and shakes her head, because they never were able to think inside the box.


She asks Kyoya why they actually went along with it when Tamaki tells them to call him "king." After all, the Host Club isn't around, at least not anymore, and yet in their little group, the nickname sticks. Kyoya looks up from his notepad and tells her with a shrug, "It's an easy way to keep him happy. And I've found the club is 52% more effective when our fearless leader isn't sulking in the corner."

She can't really argue with that.


He spends a lot of time panicking that she might leave him, or glaring at other men who might take her away. And she lets him stay occupied like that, because it keeps him from noticing his admirers. She doesn't want to share.

A/N: I never knew drabbles like this were so much fun to write, so definitely expect more. :) Reviews are amazing, but only because I'm insecure in something like this, so I'd love critique. (Never done drabbles based on one-word prompts before!) :P

By the way, if you have a word you'd like me to write, drop me a line and let me know, because I will seriously use it! (unless it's something totally vulgar. Then, just no.)