Disclaimer: Hatori Bisco.

Author's note: I'm bad at keeping my promises, so here's an Ouran fic for you all to read. It's impossibly short. KyouyaRenge. In my usual style of unhappiness and etc.

Misconceptions

Kyouya was a good liar. A fantastic liar, in fact. He had the ability to make anyone believe anything he said in his cool, professional tone and when he leveled his clear, direct gaze you, you were gone.

When Kyouya talked, people usually agreed.

Even as a young girl, Renge had a loose grasp on reality. She was undoubtedly bright, as was expected of a girl with her pedigree, and she was appropriately courteous, as was also expected. But it didn't change the fact that even as a child of five, Renge preferred the world of fairytales and wayward love stories, resulting in a romantic disposition and a tendency to be dramatic.

Growing up didn't seem to have much of an effect on her personality and she grew up with stars in her eyes and Peter Pan as her hero. She was used to getting her way and getting it now.

And so, it was by a miraculous twist of fate (or rather, a correction on her mother's seating plan), that she ended up next to the Ootori heir, with his princely manners and even more princely looks.

However, an incurable attack of shyness overcame Renge and for the first and only time in her life she was rendered tongue tied.

She stammered through five courses and dessert, all of which were received properly by the ever efficient Kyouya.

In an act of boldness, during a lull in their conversation, she grabbed his hand, put a finger to her lips and they disappeared, two fashionable and respectable people in a crowd of fashionable, respectable people.

Once outside, he smiled his ever present, ever polite smile and queried, "And what are we doing out here, Renge? Fancied some fresh air?"

Not for the first time, Renge realized a surprising similarity between her and the host club president. They were dramatic, narcissistic people, who spoke big words that meant nothing, afraid of confrontation, and preferred to live in environments that only they could affect.

Kyouya was as unlike that as possible. He was gifted with the exceptional ability to blend in everywhere, but by choice (or maybe it was just his personality), he never used it to the full extent.

Not saying a word, she held out her arms. And Kyouya smiled his businessman's smile. He knew when a deal was being made.

His lips felt like exactly how she always thought they would feel – cold, hard and unfeeling. She hadn't expected anything more.

Renge was a girl of dreams, not delusions.

When she started attending Ouran High, nothing changed. They met in secret corridors and secret staircases to exchange even more secret kisses and caresses and sighs. Every single time, Kyouya broke away too soon, too fast and his kisses were always too hard, too cold.

But Renge didn't care. It didn't matter to her what he gave her, as long as he was giving her something. Because she was both attracted and repelled by his constant coldness. She wanted to be the one to save him.

She wanted to be the beloved heroines in her books – the ones who always managed to melt the heart of the cold cold prince and he would realize how much he loved the heroine and they would live together, happily ever after.

"Kyouya why don't you look at me like that?" Renge stared up in Kyouya's face and she was shocked to find warmth there, and a real, hesitant smile. Kyouya's smiles were cold and calculating, not warm, and Kyouya never hesitated.

"What are you talking about, Renge? I look at you the way I've always looked at you." And there was that cold look again, resettling into his eyes.

"No, Kyouya. I mean, like that. Like how you look at Haruhi."

"Don't be silly, Renge. You're imagining things."

Kyouya had always been a fantastic liar but Renge was an even better pretender.