((Discontinued)) I Can't Tell || Tamaki Suoh x Reader

Chapter Two: Lack of Inspiration

"(L/n)-chan!"

Tamaki perked up at the voice, and watched in mild interest as a first year girl trotted past him up to a girl with washed over eyes.

The girl with washed over eyes didn't seem that astonishing at all. Clearly, this (L/n)-chan didn't have enough money for a uniform, because all she wore was a formal white dress shirt and some black pants that looked suspiciously like jeans. A paint stained sweater was tied around her waist, too, and a messenger bag filled with books slung over her shoulder.

The weird thing was that Tamaki had never heard of her before, and he knew almost all the girls in the school.

"Yes..?" (L/n)-chan's voice was quiet, and the first year held out a notebook, flipping it open and pointing to a few formulas.

The small first year's eyes gleamed brightly. "I was wondering if these were right? I'm trying to catch up to you, senpai!"

A slight smile graced the older girl's lips. "You still have a bit to go. The answers are wrong." She tapped the notebook with her pointer finger, and the first year short circuited.

"Eh–!?" The younger squeaked finally, and looked over her formulas. "What? Are they really!?" A small whine entered her voice.

"Try again." (L/n)-chan said briskly, and patted the girl on the head, before weaving around her and walking off.

"Tamaki," Kyoya walked up to him, and blinked, turning to look in the direction his friend was facing. "What are you looking at?"

Tamaki blinked quickly, and shook his head. "Nothing–nothing." He hummed, then began walking with Kyoya to Music Room #3. "Kyoya, can I ask you something?"

"Is it a new activity plan you have for the club?" Kyoya asked, pulling out a clipboard with some papers on it, getting ready to scribble notes down. "What were you thinking?"

"No, no, it's not that." Tamaki scratched the back of his neck with a slight laugh. "There was a girl I've never seen before–ah, a first year called her (L/n)-chan–and I was wondering if she was a new student that I never got the chance to meet."

"Oh?" Kyoya lowered the clipboard slightly, then pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "She's an honours student from last year. I'm surprised you never introduced yourself to her."

"An honours student?" He blinked. "She must really be smart, then. She hasn't visited the club, has she?"

"No," Kyoya twirled his pen in his hand. "I suppose that she isn't the type to take up their time with our antics."

Tamaki huffed. "Nonsense! (L/n)-chan would probably love it! Who do you think her type is?"

"Well," Kyoya sighed, thinking for a moment. "I have seen her speaking to Haruhi every once and awhile, and us two have a little competition for marks going, so I'd say either me or Haruhi. Or possibly Mori-senpai, due to how quiet he is." Kyoya then let out a hum. "She doesn't seem to be looking for romance, though."

Tamaki arched an eyebrow slightly. This was new to him. So would this mean if he invited her to tea and showered her in compliments, she wouldn't blush once? Nor would she fall? Would she even come back to visit?

He was intrigued. A girl without romance? The concept was slightly new to him, but of course, mostly the only girls he's met were full of romance.

Tamaki shook his head, and entered the abandoned music room with a flourish, Kyoya trailing after him then setting up his computer on one of the tables.

"What's the matter, senpai?" Haruhi called, who was setting up one of the tables. "You look like something's on your mind."

"Yeah..." Kaoru peered up over a video game he was sharing with his brother.

"It looks like your mind was just blown and you're trying to piece it back together." Hikaru pointed out, and his brother complimented him with how the description suited Tamaki perfectly.

"Well," Tamaki slid onto one of the couches with a sigh. They still had half an hour until the club opened, so he was able to relax–at least for a little bit. "I'm just thinking up an idea."

"Oh?" Kyoya and Haruhi queried at the same time, and they shared a glance.

"What is it, Tama-chan?" Honey asked, who was sitting on the floor and playing with his stuffed bunny. Mori sat beside him, looking up from a textbook he'd previously been reading.

Tamaki sucked in a deep breath. "Well..."

*****

"I like your shirt." One of the boys from her art club complimented as she entered.

It was just grey and paint stained, so she really didn't see the glory in it. However, she gave him a smile and a thank you, before heading to the back of the room to pull out a painting she was currently working on.

Most of the kids here were quite wealthy, so she could kind of imagine how odd she looked in their eyes, as they normally wore expensive smocks or aprons to keep the paint from their even more expensive clothing.

Her mouth stretched into a yawn. She hadn't been sleeping well as of late, due to the workload and stress she was shouldering. Anxiety doesn't really do one any favours.

"What's the matter, (L/n)-senpai?" One of the first years asked, peering up from a drawing they were currently working on.

(F/n) simply shook her head, blinking and continuing to smudge paint across her canvas. Right now, she was lacking inspiration. All the paint looked like was mud at the moment.

She let out a sigh, placing her brush down with a clatter. "I've got nothin'. I'm going to walk for a bit." She announced, getting up from her chair.

There was a shared mumble throughout the art room, and (F/n) quickly exited. She rubbed her eyes, starting off down the overly glamorous corridor in an attempt to gather inspiration. Sadly, nothing really clicked as she wondered around.

"Oh, excuse me." A boy's voice said from behind her, and she stopped in her step to look back at him, arching an eyebrow.

"Ootori-san, what do I owe the pleasure?" She said smoothly, and he smiled a little.

"We were wondering if you would like to come to the Host Club's room for some tea? You don't seem to be occupied with anything at the moment." His sly voice irked her a little, but she gave in, shrugging and letting him bring her in the direction of the club room.