Let It Be, an ouran high school host club fanfic

Title

Let It Be

Contents

Ouran High School Host Club

Narration

Omiscent 2nd person

Summary

Sometimes bad things happen to good people, and it seems like nothing will ever get better.

Disclaimer

I do not own Host Club nor did I write the song, "Let It Be". That was bones hasbro and The Beatles
Warning

Yaoi. Songfic.

Enjoy

When I find myself in times of trouble

Mother Mary comes to me

Speaking words of wisdom

Let It Be

And in my hour of darkness

She is standing right in front of me

Speaking words of wisdom

Let It Be

Sitting in the fetal position, your arms around your legs with your head on your knees. You've been crying, but this wasn't the first time. You're the king, aren't you? Kings shouldn't let themselves get to this point.. But you just can't take it anymore.. She'll never love you.. She told you this to your face, she came up right to you today and told you that she was a lesbian. She held that french manager's hand tight and told you how much she felt for her. Told you how she could never love a man because of the sexual harrassment you gave her. Your insides tore, ripped, bled apart.. Tears came to your eyes, but you hid them well like a king should. How could she..? How could she love another woman? .. Hadn't it been you who made her who she was today? She was a peasent commoner before you my lord. You were the cause of them meeting.. Why did you want her to have a feminine friend... Now because of you she's gone off and fallen in love.. You've broken your own heart..

My lord, your trembling figure scares your people.. But you've hid yourself in your room now, you've refused to come out. Your heart hurts so much, you've shut out the world.. She was the only world you ever thought you'd ever need.. It hurts so much.. You've let her slip through your hands.. You curl in tighter, inaudible sobs of tears come through your lap. It all hurts so much.. You miss her.. You'll never be able to love anyone ever again, she's broken you. You're no longer the charming lover you used to be.. Your french coquettish ways are scripted now. The girls won't request you so much anymore. They'll ask what happened to you, where your famous charm went. You'll reply this is who you are to stay. They'll drop you as a host, and the club you started will be without a king. The hosts will cheer, they'll scream 'democracy!'.. Your grades will slip and they'll kick you out of school. Your grandmother will kick you out of the house for dropping out of school, and you'll never have a stable job after that. You'll work part time the rest of your life, never catching up on bills.

Cold.. You felt so cold.. Your lips were blue.. The empty painkiller bottle and the spilt water glass on the floor were the only interuptions in a royal blue carpet. Your wet red blushed pale blue lipped face looks up to the ceiling.

"Heavenly Father..." You whisper, "... Bring me to join my Mother.."

Your chest slowed down it's pace of breathing, your eyes closed but you kept your head up. It hurt.. The painkillers were going to set in, all you could do now is wait.

Dark hair was all stirred about, another purple spot on your face. Another pair of broken glasses. Laying in your bed, your hands behind your head. He didn't like the costumes you did for today. Fantasy. You dressed as a gypsy. You explained the merit in the situation, but it earned you one hard demerit. There was never any pleasing that man.. It was always a positive thing with your sister and brothers, you could never amount to what they held in their hands.. You were the target for his practice, he had absolutly no faith in you and you knew it. Father held the power, Father held the money, Father was your world and you were just the cracker in his soup. Another thing, same taste without you.

She came out today and told him that she was a lesbian.. You always thought it would be the other blonde french that got the girl.. You hoped you would have a chance with him since he was rejected, you've always had a fondness of him haven't you? But he left solemly the moment she told him. You weren't rejected, but it was a hint to continue to admire from afar.. Still it was just another topping to your home problems.

You try too hard to be perfect. There's never anything quite perfect enough, there's always room for improvement. But you've never gripped this. He's told you before not to work yourself to the bone, but you would do it anyway. Slap his kind hand away from your shoulder and continue to pound the keyboard on your laptop.

"God.." You exhale, opening your eyes to look to the ceiling. "... I wonder what Mom would say if I joined her tonight.."

Always mistaken for your brother. Always under estimated because of him. You're never noticed, you're the invisible one. You've loved her just as much as he did, but you backed down because you love him more. It's your own sick lust for your flesh and blood. You want to feel skin on skin just another night with him. He said it was only a one time thing, expirementing with the only one he could trust with something so private. How many times did you orgasm that night? Two? Three? He took you so far, you felt so alive. Ever since then you've dreamed of him, taking you over and over again once more.

You wake up in the middle of the night tonight, look over to your mirror image with heavey breaths because of him. You're aroused, sweat starting to glitter on your skin. You look at his form, it's identical to yours but you feel so intimidated by it. Why does he look more manly to you than yourself does in the mirror? Was it because he was the one inside you? Just the thought made your sensitive skin twitch. He slept in nothing but his boxers most nights, teasing you without him knowing he was.

You gently pulled off the sheets and blanket, slipping your hand slowly inside the small hole in front, touching him softly with your fingertips. You slid your own hand down your own boxers, moving the end of your shirt out of the way as you did. Just the feel of his soft sensitive skin made your senses go crazy.

Sick.. You were sick.. Disgusting.. He was your brother.. He was sleeping.. You were touching yourself.. In his bed..

"Oh god.." You moaned, closing your eyes tightly as your hand sped up it's pace. ".. Jesus Christ.. Kill me now.."

You've been waiting for a few hours now, I wonder if he's alright in there.. Today they didn't want him showing his face around the dojo, but he did it anyway. You've watched over him for almost twelve years now, you probably know more about him then he knows about himself. He's your precious thing, your lovely item, your only reason for living. His smile brightens the darknest storm inside you, his optimism puts your realistic views at bay. You've always been a shoulder for him to cry on, an ear to listen to, a hand to place on his shoulder.

You've warned him not to go today, but he told you that you shouldn't fear the threats of others. You should be the stronger one and tell them that they're petty ways of scaring you don't work. But you're still afraid he won't come out of those doors unscathed.. Still, like you were told, you stand there with your arms folded and your back against the wall. It's late, you should be in bed, but how can you sleep knowing he's risking so much just by being in there today? When you met he was the only one not to judge you as a brute. He asked you if you wanted to hold his bunny and join him for a cake and tea party.. You love bunnies... Cake is sweet to you.. Tea so very calming..

"Mother Mary.." You hang your head low, speaking in that barratoned voice of yours. "Take my life in replace of his.."

As a very attractive girl you've always been admired from the start. Big brown eyes, long brown hair, you couldn't be more of a catch. Then you arrived in middle school, you were touched unwanted for the first time. He didn't go far, but it made you so uncomfortable around men knowing that that was what they were looking for. And when you met him that's all he reminded you of. The touching. The comments. His words that were put so nicely together they had to be practiced at home in a mirror. His french blonde hair and blue eyes didn't phase you at all. When he talked to you as an individual you respected him, when he flirted with you as a girl you felt dirty.

Then you met her.. She was an angel sent from the lord himself. Her long blonde hair.. Her blue eyes.. Her french accent.. She was perfection.. She spoke as though you were just another person to her. God blass her heart when she spoke of love between the two of you.. When she held your hand in hers your chest pounded so hard you swore she could hear it.

Then you told him, you told him how much you were in love with her, you told him how you couldn't deal anymore with his words while she watched from afar. He looked hurt.. Maybe you could have been kinder.. Shuffling out of the bathroom you kept your eyes to the floor, walking into her room. You were spending the night tonight, neither of your parents knew what was going on between the two of you so they let it happen. You crawl into bed next to her, cover yourself with the blankets, and stare at the ceiling before she wraps her pale arms around you, clinging as if you were the only person in the world she would have beside her in her bed at night. A hand you place on her side, a small smile on your lips.

"Renge.." You look to her, nothing but love and regret choking up in your throat. ".. I'm too cruel.. I deserve to die after what I did to him.."

You've wondered why your brother's been so awkward around you lately. It isn't because of what you did to him, was it? No, it couldn't be. You wish he would talk to you.. The two of you used to be so close.. Like a pair of pants.. thrown on the floor, mingling with two shirts and a left sock.

God what was wrong with you? That was a one time thing between you two.. It wasn't ever happening again, you were twins for christ's sake! It was disgusting the moment you came, it was disgusting now! You insisted they stop sharing beds, but he still crawls in with you at night. You wake up and yell at him for it, but he's not ever going to listen to you..

You don't love him. You love her. But she loves her, so you hurt inside. When she told you you blew up, you ran out of the third music room to punch in a wall in the boy's bathroom. Your knuckles bled, your eyes teared up, you left school to go out drinking. You got so drunk that night, the knife you broke your skin with didn't hurt as much as the pain in your chest. You watched yourself bleed all over the bathroom floor, sobbing as you cursed her.

"Lord.." You spat, the crying you did broke your voice up. "Kill me now.."

You threw the wrong person at the dojo the other day the wrong way, and he ended up dieing in the hospital. He was dosed up on pcp, and when you threw him he didn't catch himself and ended up impaling himself on one of the spears on the 're a murderer... You cried all night, you still have nightmares of killing that man over and over. You called yourself a monster, a killer, a psychopath.

He told you not to go to the dojo today for practice.. But you could only smile optimistically up at him. 'You can't let fear of what may happen to you stop you from doing what you love'. Those were your own words. They all hate you there now.. They want you dead, but you were only cased with manslaughter and got off since he was under the influence. At school they don't know, but you'll never tell them. They won't like to hear their sweet innocent hunny-bunny is a cold blooded murderer.

"Sweet Mother.." You step through the doors, almost holding your breath. ".. Kill me quick and painlessly.."

Monday afternoon came and all the Hosts showed up at the third music room.

The painkillers didn't work. As the King you plaster on a big smile, greeting every princess as they walk through your door.

Just don't touch your face and you won't smudge the cover up. Typing on your laptop never seemed so easily a hand occupier.

Don't keep your eyes off him and he won't know how awkward you feel. It's just an act..

You pour the tea to go with the sweet, sweet cake... Oh thank god he's alive.

Kiss her goodbye for a few hours, even though your eyes will still meet. Don't make eye contact with him..

The hangover if finally gone, but you're still irritable.. Just don't look at her, keep your eyes on him and you'll be fine.

They almost killed you but no one knows, you're a master at hiding these things from everyone. For now enjoy your tea.

She hates you.

You're not perfect.

His hand's soft.

He almost died.

He's looking at you.

You hate women.

You're a killer.

She's gone.

It smudged.

You're erect.

He's hurt.

He's hurting.

Frustration peeked.

You're guilty.

Alone.

Unperfect.

Sick.

Worried.

Sorry.

Murderer.

Smiles were held around the Third music room, talking fake stories about how fun their nights were. They lied about watching tv shows, lied about eating candy, lied about the happy events that went on. Between each other they talked to friendly, no one mentioning anything negative.

"So this weekend," Glasses pushed up the bridge of a pale nose. "we're all meeting at the beach because the last time our customers seemed to like the atomosphere."

Bad things happen to good people. No one's perfect, not everyone is loved, people drink, people love forbiddenly.. A Host is said to have worn his heart on his sleeve. A Host is given two hearts, one to wear and one to hold onto. It takes a special kind of man to become a Host. It requires a soft caring man to percist until everything is done right, and a strong understanding man to let it be.

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[A/N] I like how it came out.

Kinda sad, but hey not everyone's perfect.

... And I like yuri :|