I.
Tadashi held her close. His lips came close to the glass and his breath misted over it, she squirmed in his hands and her golden-brown eyes stung. She swallowed hard and a lump the size of a meteor lodged her in throat. He stared down at her in quiet longing as he had just a week before his death. Tadashi caressed her neon yellow helmet in a tender stroke.
"Wake up," She could almost feel his fingers in her hair. GoGo shook her head violently.
The young man caught her entire head in his hands and held her in place.
"Wake up," he murmured gently, placing her glass-encased helmet against his forehead.
GoGo struggled in his arms. "No," she protested. "NO!"
Her last cry was haunted and tortured as it echoed out of her lips, she shot up in bed with her hair strung in her face. The small space of her studio was completely pitch-black, her breathing was shallow and labored as she turned with exaggerated slowness to stare at the window. No, GoGo thought with half-crazed intensity as she gawked wide-eyed at her transparent, thread-checkered drapes, Tadashi is dead. She turned away from the cool November breeze blowing in. Tadashi was dead. GoGo pulled the thin black wool coverlet up to her left eye and sighed.
How nice it would be to have something warm and soft to cuddle up next to; if only she still had the stuffed bear Tadashi had won for her at the fair just that week before... she shivered. Tears, cold and empty, fell down her cheek and stuck between her skin and the itchy material.
Wait! GoGo sat up and gasped a little. Warm and soft; that was the answer!
GoGo laid back down. She didn't smile or even feel relieved, but there was some comfort in knowing someone could help her. Someone knew more then anyone how she would feel and this someone was as close to Tadashi as anyone. GoGo had one last resort for help tomorrow.
To be continued...