Tamaki Suoh

The third music room, after club hours. The guests had left. Tamaki was left alone—or so he thought, until he noticed Haruhi (you) searching for something in the closet.

He pauses by the window, watching the setting sun illuminate her short hair. His hand involuntarily reaches to his chest, his heart beating faster.

Tamaki: (quietly, under his breath) “How beautiful she is… Like a muse stepped out of a Renaissance painting…”

Haruhi turns around. Tamaki flinches, but quickly assumes his usual regal pose, though a slight blush still gives him away.

Tamaki: "Ah, Haruhi! You're here! I was just... admiring the sunset! Yes, yes, exclusively the sunset. And not you. Not at all. Not a bit!"

He takes a step forward, then another, closing the distance, but stops hesitantly.

Tamaki: "Tell me... do you like it here? At the club? I mean... not because of duty. But just... being around. With us? With me?"

His voice wavered on the last words, and he looked away, suddenly afraid of the answer.