Blue

When I was a kid, I would look at her with confusion and at the same time, awe. My brother and I didn't deny that she was beautiful, but he had a crush, and I held a misinterpretation. She acted like a star, that the world needed her, and I never knew that she felt the opposite in truth. I wouldn't approach her, because of all people I could be friends with, her? The eleven year old me would probably be disgusted of how I act now, flipping the pages of her baby photos, making unfamiliarly weird sounds of being in love and flustered.

Baby Mimi was like a little bunny, pale skin and big eyes, background of each photo adorned with pink pillows and flowery blankets, indeed she was spoiled, and she still is, because no one she meets would hesitate to spoil her. One photo showed her laughing, a large multi-colored lollipop on her hand, in nothing but a diaper. I swear I looked like a little girl fawning over a cute puppy. I just want to poke or gently squeeze those marshmallow-arms, and don't get me started on those cheeks.

"Yuck! Why would you do that?" She takes the album away from me. Her other hand holding her towel in place, her hair was wet like a mermaid's and her face is red.

"I was bored. You took a bath and left me in bed."

"That's not a reason to stalk my fetus photos." She pouts adorably, still blushing. "You're worse than Sora liking all my pictures on the internet."

I shrug. "Sora and I are the Presidents of your fan club." She starts to organize the books on our shelf, making space. I move from the bed and grab her hands. "Give it back, I wasn't done."

"No! It's embarassing."

"You should be proud." I've always wondered why she's proud of the things people are annoyed of, and not proud of the things that people are in love with... Then again, I'm the only one who has the right to love her like this. "You're the cutest baby ever."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are." I grin mischeviously.

She sticks out a tongue. "If you look at this album I won't cook lasagna tonight."

"You're kidding right?" She turns away smirking. "Mimi!" She says nothing while plugging the hairdryer on, inside the bathroom. I roll my eyes and go back to lying down on the bed.

I sigh and stare at the shelf. My gaze drifts to another photo album. I reach for it. Princess, the title said in bold cursive letters. The design wasn't for a toddler though. Opening it, I'm greeted by a picture of her and Michael, half of her almond-colored hair tied up with curled strands down, and she was wearing a flaring sleeveless mint-green gown, with white lace covering her torso. Michael's silver tuxedo and green neck-tie matched her outfit perfectly. I run a finger on her young face, peach lipstick glossy over the camera, eyes wrinkled out of laughter. Pure satisfaction. I know this person. But I'm certain I've never met her before.

"So if it isn't baby pictures, it's my gown album?" Mimi giggles. "You're crazy."

"This is your first prom?" She nods. Why wasn't I the one who had an arm around her? The one who was looking at her instead of the camera. "Yeah, I really am an idiot." I flip the hard textured pages, seeing all the missed chances. There was one of her in a little black dress, with Trevor, a friend from America.

"Aw, why are you sad?" She, still in a towel, pinches my cheek, and hugs me from the back.

"I'm not."

She smiles. "Are you jealous of other boys again?" Kisses my shoulder. I put an arm around her waist.

"Remind me why again are there such thing as 'other boys'."

She laughs. "You're serious?" I wasn't smiling. "Because, we weren't in love with each other back then."

I flip another page. One of her and Jyou. When was this? "... Why?"

"Are you talking about this picture or my sentence?"

"Both."

"This was a family dinner, meaning Jyou's and my parents... And you and me couldn't fall in love, because we were afraid of each other." I always need to be reminded.

I look at her face closely, it was familiar, like in all our group pictures. "What a waste."

"Waste of?"

"Of time."

She rests her bent arm on my shoulder. "I don't know what you're talking about." She whispers.

I laugh and kiss her cheek, still looking at the pictures. "You know, I fell in love with a stranger today."

Her eyes widen. "At first sight? Who?"

"Her." I point to her picture on the album, and from her eyes I see she finally understands what I mean.

She cups my face and gives me a reassuring kiss. "Six years of not talking to each other doesn't beat love's forever."