Chapter Text
“This is a really nice place,” Haruhi said as she ran a gentle hand across the granite countertop, Tamaki standing behind her. “How come you never come here?”
“It’s a big hassle to drive all the way here from campus.” Tamaki shrugged. “It wasn’t ever worth it.”
“Was it worth it this time? Coming here with me?”
“Anything is worth it for you.”
“You are such a sap.” Haruhi said with a cheesy smile as Tamaki wrapped his arms around her waist, setting his face in the crook of her neck.
“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” He said with a chaste kiss to her cheek, spinning her so she was facing him. “In fact- I happen to have something planned for us. Something of the sappy variety.”
“Tamaki, this is all too much,” She whispered. “You drove me to your beach house, bought me dinner, and now you’re planning me a date? I can’t- I can’t repay that.”
“Good thing I’m not asking you to.” He smirked, grabbing her hand in his. “Come on, I heard on the news that Jupiter’s visible tonight. There’s some blankets on the bench.” They ran out of the sliding-glass door, the crisp sandy air combing through their hair as they stumbled across the shore.
The sand between her toes didn’t even bother Haruhi as Tamaki wrapped her in the beach blanket, the two becoming a mess of laughter as they rid themselves of their clothes; the only thing separating them and the Earth being 6300 square inches of polyester.
Somewhere between the languid kisses they shared and the sweat they wiped from each other’s necks, they both stilled. Their eyes connected, their heartbeats did, too- and although no words were said, they both understood. They understood that this is home: Haruhi and Tamaki and Tamaki and Haruhi and all of their flaws along with it. Home was anywhere when they were together.
For a fleeting moment, Haruhi wishes she could read his mind as Tamaki looks down at her from where he’s still on top of her, a smile on his face. His face is warm as he whispers to her, words that felt like hot tea on a snowy day.
“I don’t know what I did in a past life to deserve you.”
…
The familiar crowing of her alarm clock awoke Haruhi yet again, forcing her to peel off of the table where she’d fallen asleep the night before. She groggily walked over, hitting the off button.
“Did I seriously fall asleep in the kitchen?” she murmured to herself, fixing up her bangs as she dug through her drawers to find a pair of clean pants. She didn’t have work that day, but she always made it a point to get dressed every morning, whether or not she had things to do.
She smoothed her hands down her pants, combing down her bangs as she grabbed her phone, putting it in her back pocket. She had a basic agenda for what she needed to do today. A rough outline, if you will. Haruhi tied her tennis shoes, grabbed her purse, and walked down to the 7/11 down the street. Something about the waxy linoleum flooring paired with fluorescent light always calmed her senses.
If one thing was always congruent, it was the gas station. There was something so reliable in a place where it didn’t matter how disheveled you were, how drunk, how tired. Haruhi found great comfort in that.
When she had just graduated high school, she moved into her current apartment. She couldn’t count how many times she went to this gas station with Tamaki, getting red and blue slushies and mixing them together through their kisses. They would drunkenly stumble back to her apartment with purple tongues and each others’ hands in their hair; their only thoughts being each other.
But those days were gone. Long fucking gone.
Her hair was longer. Her temper was shorter. The hazy, carefree days of new adulthood were gone, and she was finally starting to get her shit together. Drinking wine from a bottle instead of a box. Paying her rent on time. Working overtime despite how much she hated her boss. Doing adult shit.
She knew that it would never work. It never did work. So why did he still live in her head all the goddamn time? Why was he like a disease she just couldn’t seem to kick?
Haruhi scolded herself in her head as she walked to the checkout and placed her items on the counter. As she walked out with her things, she saw the familiar square-ish white truck in front of her apartment complex. She ran up to it just as the mailman stepped out.
“Fujioka?” he asked.
“That’s me. Unit T14,” she replied, the mailman placing a thick envelope in her hand.
Haruhi stared down at the paper in disbelief as the words registered in her mind, her brain still locked on the words written on the recipient’s address.
It was the same handwriting as before.
Only this time, the return address was a hospital.