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"Ah, you're both twins. Not identical, but still twins."
The blond haired boy charmingly smiled, looking down at the two girls.
"A boy and a girl."
'Boy?' Y/n thought with...
Rất tiếc! Hình ảnh này không tuân theo hướng dẫn nội dung. Để tiếp tục đăng tải, vui lòng xóa hoặc tải lên một hình ảnh khác.
{42; Interrupted Production!}
"Oh Marianne," Benio placed a hand on the middle of her chest as she recited her script, "how many lonely nights have I prayed that we would be together again? And how many times, have the powers that be demanded that we remain apart? That our love is forbidden?"
"Oh my Lord Frederick." Haruhi spoke, standing in front of the cropped, brown haired female.
Benio tumbled back on the floor of the rehearsal room exaggeratedly, pretending to be on the verge of death, using her elbow to keep her upper body up. "I'm slain by this fatal gunshot wound. Alas, I'm to draw breath no more." She specified as Haruhi kneeled down next to her and placed one of her hands behind Benio while the other one laid on the young woman's hand that was on the middle of her chest.
"My Lord Frederick."
Benio closed her olive-green eyes as she rested her head on Haruhi. "Marianne. With your arms holding me close, all this pain becomes naught. I am overwhelmed with peace. Lovely angel." She continued as five females moved behind them with one of their arms raised elegantly. "Your gaze is my paradise and you are the very image of my beloved mother."
As Benio trailed off and proceeded on with her lines, Y/n wondered as she leaned against the wall, staring at the scene in front of her. 'For someone who should be dying, they sure are talking a lot.'
"My Lord Frederick." Haruhi repeated as the five dancers behind them twirled.
Meanwhile, the male members of the Host Club and the father of Haruhi and Y/n were crouched down in front of the sizable window, crouched down in front of it so they wouldn't get caught. Six out of the seven men were wearing light pink t-shirts that supported the Zuka Club--the individual who didn't participate in wearing the fan club shirt was the brownish-grey eyed second year student, Kyoya Ootori.
"Can you see them? What're they doing?" Honey questioned, tugging on the back of Tamaki's shirt since he was positioned in front of his view.
The blond haired male began to answer his upperclassman's question, keeping his violet eyes on the rehearsal. "It looks as though Haruhi's playing the heroine of some sentimental tragedy while Y/n's standing in the corner. But...-"
"My Lord Frederick." They heard Haruhi say once again.
"She sounds like a robot." Tamaki, the twins, and Ranka slouched their shoulders as they hung their head down low. "A boring daikon radish."
"Even as her father, I can't stand this." Tears streamed down Ranka's face as his hands rested on his cheeks.
"Someone please make her stop." Hikaru chimed in, avoiding eye contact with the practice session.
