Ken's Barbie

"I really like you." He'd said. I can still feel his lips' warmth and the soft caress that was the kiss he'd given me. You said you weren't serious, that I was naïve and still I was affected. And now you contradict all of your very own actions. "Don't tell me you actually believed me?" Such harsh words, but the rose petals, red as fresh blood; the symbol for love and passion. You taunt me ceaselessly, and then when my anger is at its peak, you go soft on me. Saying things that I can't possibly make sense of, you show anger towards me and then, you invite me into your innermost sanctum; why?

You wanted me to hold onto you, and something told me, in that moment that all the harsh words were your confusion and that every intimate gesture was the true you. You were so jealous of Michael, even after I told you it was nothing. You told me that you wouldn't share with him, but I'm not entirely sure that I want to be yours. A part of me likes your jealousy and yet another tells me to just finish my task and leave.

Things would be so much easier if I'd never stepped foot into this house. "It was me who called to you when you first arrived, not Michael." those words echo through my brain, the way you reached out to me in that cave-like dwelling asking me to hold onto you. You wanted comfort and I gave you none, I flee you like the plague or worse. How, why do you put up with me? Could it be that you actually love me. I think that I might have feelings for you as well, maybe that's the reason why I took it so much to heart when you kissed me; maybe, just maybe, Daisuki de yo, it could even be that koishiteru. We'll find out together.