The Alluring Type [ohshc. male reader insert]

Philanthropy

     "Did you hear about the boy who freaked out at the orchestral competition?"

     "I heard that he played a piece so difficult that it made him physically unable to play."

     Your polished dress shoes tap against the marble, though it goes unnoticed amongst the students ebbing and flowing throughout the hallowed halls of the austere academy.

     "Really? I heard he just threw a fit because he was the worst violinist there."

     "That's so boorish. I heard that he played a piece composed by the devil, a piece that possesses your soul as you play."

     Straightening your tie, you approach the gossiping gaggle of girls, a condescending smile painted on your face. "I heard that he had a seizure on stage, that's why he couldn't play." This is incorrect, of course.

     A look of abashed guilt dons on the group, the heat rising to each of their cheeks as they all clamber some meek, weak condolences.

     "I knew it was all just baseless speculation anyway." One points her nose in the air.

     "I'm just saying what my mother heard, of course I don't believe it myself." Another scoffs.

     "Your mother was always one to stick her nose where it doesn't belong." A third remarks, earning a glare from the second.

     "Wait, aren't you the one who..." A fourth queries, but you'd already went on your way to class.

     The bell rings, marking the end of classes for your first day of the second year. It would be a while before your chauffeur could bring the car around, so you resign yourself to idly gazing at the fountain. You teeter on the edge, wobbling vicariously, joking with yourself every now and then by pretending you're about to fall in.

     Just as you repeat this cycle, a pair of slender arms grabs you by the waist. "Be careful!" The stranger calls, attempting to pull you across to the safe side of the fountain.

     They hilariously fail, crashing down with you into the impromptu bath.

     "What gives?" You yell, squirming from their grip. You stew in the rushing water for a minute, clearing your vision of water droplets.

     "Excuses, mon ami!" They gasp, clasping your hand.

     "Hey, let go!" You yank yourself free, but drop slack, staring at the male. It's unclear to you whether it's the sunshine reflecting on the dripping water or the boys natural charm, but there's an unmistakable, dazzling glimmer surrounding him, his smooth skin glistening as if covered in a thin layer of angel dust. You move your jaw for words but none come out at the sight of his brilliant violet eyes and genuine, princely smile.

     He stands up, wringing out his clothes, and holds out his hand once more. "Besoin d'un coup de main?"

     It takes you a moment to respond, completely dazzled and enthralled at the man. You barely manage to stammer out a sentence.

     "Yes, I do need a hand."

•°•°•°•

     "And that's why you should always help those in need!" Tamaki waves a finger in the air, ending a story on philanthropy.

     Honey enthusiastically claps, supported by Mori, while the remainder of the Host Club ignore the club's head.

     "That is why, the next time someone walks through that door, we will be as philanthropic as possible!" He declares, looking for at least one person to back him up.