KuboToki. Tokito thinks over the reasoning behind staying.
Once he gets me there, falling backwards and holding on to him, his hands are cold and ghostly, and sometimes I wonder if he's even thinking of me at all when we do this. And then I realize: Who else would he be thinking of?
Perhaps the feeling I get in my chest when I reach that conclusion is not such a good thing.
His mouth always tastes exactly like the scent I first woke up to in his room the first time - cigarettes. There's this taste behind it that I might have gotten dangeriously addicted to if that heavy smoke wasn't there to cover it up. As it is, I think I'm addicted enough.
After his scary eyes, the eyes that push me down onto the bed and ravish me before we even start, are the sad eyes, the eyes that plead and beg and cry for me to stay. I'm not sure which is worse; his trust is hard to bear.
I do my best to kiss him and make him feel better, because even though I might not understand why he wants me here with him as his pet cat, I still would rather be protected by a dangerious guy like him. He would be hopeless without someone like me to help, I think. He wouldn't know where to point his gun.