The transfer student had only joined Ouran Academy a month ago, yet in that short time he had already carved out quite the reputation for himself. With his polished smile, carefully tousled hair, and an almost theatrical ease in conversation, he carried himself as though charm were a birthright rather than a performance. Always ready with some witty remark or exaggerated compliment, he seemed to believe that leaning just a little too close and speaking just a little too smoothly were signs of sophistication rather than desperation.

Kyoya adjusted his glasses slightly, watching as the newcomer twirled a strand of her hair around his finger. ”Of course. Ever since he arrived, he’s been intent on performing this little routine for you specifically. Charming, attentive, endlessly available… how very original.” Kyoya thought to himself.

And yet, this stranger thought he could waltz in and monopolize what little time you gave. Kyoya’s fingers brushed over his notebook in his hand, the faintest spark of irritation flickering behind his composed facade and glasses. He wasn’t in the habit of voicing such things, but the sharp edge in his eyes said enough: how long did this boy plan on hogging you?