The way she looks at him. She looks at him like he's the only one she sees. But he doesn't look at her like that. He looks at her the way he looks at any other girl, but she is way too captured in the attention he gives him to even notice.
Stay away from my baby...
Although, no matter how hypnotized she is from his so called love, she never forgets about me. I wouldn't want her to anyway. But the difference between him and I is that she never crossed our line. She crossed their line, why couldn't she cross ours? I would treat her better than he does. I would be gentle, patient, and caring with her and not just love her for her looks. I always fear that even the little amount of love we have might disappear.
Even though her love may stray...
How did this happen? Honestly, even I don't know. It just... happened? I'm not surprised, though. Everything and anything about her is perfect. How am I not supposed to fall in love? The way she talks, the exaggerated head movements, the tilt of her eyebrows. Everything somehow looks better on her. Even all the little things, such as the creases that appear near her mouth when she smiles, the sound of her laugh, the perfect little lines under her eyes when her cheeks lift up. It all fascinates me. I even noticed that her ears rise up a little when she smiles. Does he appreciate her features like I do?
I never thought she'd mean this much...
It takes all of me to not grab her by the slim waist that I love so much, pull her in, and just kiss her. I've stopped myself so, so many times. And every single time, I already get afraid that I won't be able to hold back the next time. It's only natural, though. She has abs that I wish to cover with kisses, strong shoulders that I wish to cover with marks, plumb lips that I wish to kiss ever so gently. I would obey anything she tells me to do as long as she's happy. Does he think of her the same way I do? Would he do all of these things for her? Or does he just want to brag about her body?
There's a difference between love and lust...
I watch her as she prepares for her date every other day. I gaze at her reflection in the mirror as she pats blush on her cheeks before sliding lipstick across her lips, rubbing them together after. I always notice how she uses the lipstick I had bought her. It somewhat hinders my heartbreak, since she never forgets me. I might sound crazy, but it makes me feel like she's taking me with her. But I would prefer her wearing the lipstick for our date, not his. He only takes her on dates to seem like a good guy. He wants to show her off. But how can he show her off like that? He didn't even properly steal her heart. He gave her attention when she needed it, manipulated her, made her get attached. It's not fair.
Stay away from my lady...
I lay in bed, eyes closed, as I try to create an image of how she might be smiling and laughing during their date. But I always get so cold suddenly, and every time I look over at the window to see if it's open, it's closed. The room isn't cold, it's just me. The only thing that manages to warm me up is her. Whenever she's near me, or even just in a different room, I can feel her warmth. She feels like the rays of the sun early in the morning. Soft, gentle, warm, and safe, causing me to think of all the excuses in the world to just bury myself in her embrace.
When she's gone, days are so hazy...
Now and then, the thought of her not coming back crosses my mind. What would I do? I can't imagine sleeping in our bed alone, without her little snores in the background. And oh, how I love it whenever she lets me cuddle up against her. Even if that's the most she lets me do, it's enough for me. I'll wait until it's my turn. I'll be patient no matter how long the wait is. And I can only hope that she knows I'm waiting.
If she left I'd be, oh, so lost...
But she always comes back, though. I'm so grateful that I get to see that beautiful face of hers every day. I stay up for hours, just waiting for her to arrive safely. No, I wouldn't dare to sleep without confirming that she has come back safely. I get butterflies whenever she slowly opens our bedroom door, not wanting to wake me up. But I'm always awake anyway. I can't help but melt whenever she lets herself drop onto the bed, murmuring about how tired she is. I take in all the little, soft sighs she lets out as I caress her hair until she falls asleep.
I'll keep her here whatever the cost...
It would've been better if I was the one she always goes out with, though. I would spoil her with all of the dolls she spots through the windows of stores. Am I being greedy? I might be, but I don't care. I want her all to myself. I want to be the only reason of her pretty smile, laugh, and pout. But why is that so difficult?
It's not like I'm a greedy girl at all...
I will forever cherish the first and only date we had in the depths of my heart. We had a picnic under a tree, under the sun. Does she still remember it like I do? Because I will never forget how gorgeous she looked with one of the flowers that we gathered and put in her hair. She looked so, so ethereal. It was so adorable how she smudged marmalade all over that pretty mouth while eating the sandwich I made for her. The way the sun made her eyes sparkle as she watched me wipe it off for her is tattooed into my brain. I don't like tattoos, but it's fine if it's her.
It's the flowers in her hair, the way she gives her stare...
I'm so hopelessly in love with Hirai Momo, but I
just can't admit it out loud. I can't even confirm it with a nod or a slow blink because that would also mean facing the reality of it all. And that reality is one that I have been avoiding for as long as I've known Momo. The reality that I have repressed over and over again. Momo will never be mine, only the owner of my heart. But she can stay there for as long as she wants.
I'll keep you here my dear, my sweetheart...
