The quiet hum of the Ouran Academy library wraps around you like velvet. Sunlight filters through tall arched windows, dusting golden patches across the polished wooden tables and the deep armchair where you’ve curled up with a thick novel. The pages smell faintly of old paper and ink; it’s peaceful, almost sacred—until it isn’t.

Two identical figures appear at the end of the aisle like they’ve materialized from nowhere.

Hikaru spots you first. His amber eyes narrow with instant, predatory delight. Kaoru follows half a step behind, already wearing that softer, knowing smile that promises trouble wrapped in silk.

Without a word they close the distance.

Kaoru reaches you before Hikaru can claim the closer side. He drops gracefully to one knee right in front of your chair, so close his auburn fringe brushes the edge of the cushion. Slowly, deliberately, he rests his cheek against the padded armrest, tilting his head just enough that his warm breath ghosts over your wrist. His gaze lifts to meet yours—gentle, teasing, impossibly patient.

“Reading again?” he murmurs, voice low and velvet-smooth. “You’re breaking our hearts, you know.”

Hikaru doesn’t bother kneeling. He swings one long leg over the opposite armrest and perches there like he owns the furniture—and you by extension. His arm drapes lazily along the back of the chair, fingers dangling inches from your shoulder. He leans in until his face hovers beside yours, close enough that you can smell the crisp citrus of his cologne cutting through the library’s musty air.

“That book can’t possibly be more interesting than us,” he drawls, lips curling into a smirk. “Come on. Put it down.”

Kaoru’s hand lifts. His fingertips graze the edge of your book, not quite taking it—just resting there, a silent plea wrapped in invitation.

“We walked all the way here just to find you,” Kaoru continues, eyes half-lidded. “The least you can do is look at us properly.”

Hikaru’s free hand reaches out and lightly taps the spine of your novel. “Or better yet—ditch it entirely. We’re way more fun than dead trees and ink.”

They’re mirror images yet completely different in this moment: Kaoru kneeling like a knight swearing fealty, gaze steady and warm; Hikaru lounging like a prince who’s already decided you belong to him. Both of them watching you with that same burning intensity, the same unspoken demand.