We lie squished together on the tatami mat, a blanket barely covering us. Your elbow is right in my side, but I don't mind.

Everything is orange and pink from the sunrise. This is my favourite time of day. I don't know why. Maybe because orange is your favourite colour. Its my favourite colour too. Pink is a girls colour; that's what you always say anyway. Your a girl but you don't like pink. You like orange. Well I guess that's OK. Your not like other girls. Your better.

You twitch suddenly in your sleep and your elbow digs in. It doesn't bother me. You look cute when you sleep. Its a bit misleading though. You may be cute but you pack a very painful punch when you are angry. I would know.

I shift my head to look at you better and I am surprised at how difficult it is to move. I'm lying down but the world starts to spin and my mouth tastes like carpet.

What am i doing here anyway? Why am I in your bed? Oh yeah. The others... I feel so lost without them here. I didn't cry though. Well not in front of you. I wanted to stay strong. But you were completely unabashed and you bawled and wailed without embarrassment. When it was time to go to bed you were still sniffing and your eyes were red. So I got a bottle of that stolen sake and we drank it together. It burnt my mouth and I choked a bit but you swallowed it down without a pause. We both felt to dizzy and heavy to move afterwards so we slept where we sat.

I try to swallow but my mouth is too dry. I sit up and try again. Instantly I feel sick. I don't stand up but I take a few deep breaths. You stir next to me and I look down at you.

Suddenly I am knocked over in your dash to the bucket in the corner of the room which collects the water from a leak in the roof. You vomit into it violently. A bit gets on the floor. I stand up quickly, forgetting my dizziness, and fall over again. So I crawl over to you and hold your sleeves and hair back as you continue to spew.

When you finish I cover you in a blanket and go into the street. Its very early and there are a few shop owners opening up. I see a fruit cart roll by.

I return to you sometime later, having been caught by the fruit seller and pelted by mouldy peelings. I slip in trough the window and you are asleep. The rooms smells like sick and mould. On an upturned box which we use as a table I place an orange. Its big and smooth and the skin smells delicious. I sit in front of it and smile at it like its pure gold. I am very pleased with myself.

Suddenly the blanket moves and you sit up. I reach out, pick up the orange and hand it to you.

"Eat it" I say "I've a'd mine."

You smile at me appreciatively and start to peel of the skin. One by one you pop the sections into your mouth. I have to look away or you will guess I haven't eaten anything. I did have two oranges but I fell over and one got squashed. The crazy fruit seller was still chasing me so I had to make a quick escape and leave the ruined orange. I ran home, still excited though.

Oranges are your favourite. I am perfectly content to sit here watching you eat one even if I don't get a bite. I love oranges because of how happy they make you.

You look like you've been hit by a truck. Your hair is messy and knotty; it sticks up on one side. Your hands tremble ever so slightly because you haven't tasted an orange for months. There's a bit of sick on your chin. We sit together in this shit-hole of a room but your cracked lips are smiling majesticly. Your eyes are bright with happiness.

I love oranges.

I love you.