Doll (MikaYuu)

♦41♦ - Mom & Dad

He laced his arm around my torso and placed a kiss on the back of my neck. It was 2 AM and we were just about ready for sleep, but we exchanged words... Some words I never thought I'd get to say with someone. Especially in such the early hours of the day.

"Did we really just have sex..." I had to murmur in slight disbelief as I gazed out at the stars of the night. The window was the only barrier between how close I felt with the world.

"No..." he softly whispered, playing with my hair and continuing to leave kisses on my nape. "It wasn't sex. We made love... There's a difference."

I smiled, feeling like with the budding peace Mika had found within himself was somehow bound to me. I shared every tingling aspect of it.

"I want to keep making love," I stated. "With you. Every time I want to feel perfectly close to you... I fell even more in love with your body tonight,"

"Yuu," he chuckled, shielding his face in my shoulder.

"Really, Mika... Man, I can really say every inch of your body is beautiful, now." He caught onto my joke, his body trembling in held-in laughter. I turned to face him, swiping at loose hairs. He grinned faintly at me, a sleepy, childish smile.

"I want to make so much more love," he admitted in a feeble voice as if to hide the strong depth behind it, pressing his forehead against mine. "I did not hurt you, right?"

I shook my head, riveted with his features. "Not at all."

Relief relaxed him. If Mika ever honestly had hurt me, it was never intentional. Half of the time, it was earnest clumsiness, like bumping into me or pulling my hair in between changes of clothes. The pulling of my hair intentionally was never painful. Even the intentions of those were rare. Only in bed had he ever done it. He was far too careful with me.

As if to make sure I was real, he whispered my name, like he was testing familiarity. I whispered his back, keeping my last name with his how he liked it. He kissed me in gratitude for the memory, us not in sync as we were tired. His lips still tasted like champagne.

"I love you," I gushed tiredly, his usual face of slight innocence in his surprise making me feel warm inside. "Yes, Mika. Someone loves you. For real. With all his heart."

After hearing my words, he paused to gaze at me with such a serene look that said a million words. In a way, I could almost see what he really wanted to say. But he still worshipped his unspoken phrase.

Instead, he placed my hand over his heart.

~

Day Three in Paris.

He laughed through a foamy mouth of toothpaste and a toothbrush, holding out the letter in front of him. I wasn't sure what the hell I was contributing to as I hauled in the letter-filled packages bombarding our door. I couldn't read any of these fan letters. Only a few in English I could interpret.

"Hmm," he hummed, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Translate," I hissed, wanting to know what was getting him so worked up.

"I hab a mouf full of toofpase."

"Well, quit teasing. I wanna know," I pouted as I set the last of the letters on the coffee table. With a loud exhale, I plopped back onto the bed, only to be unsettled with a door knock. I nearly screamed. Can I sit down for five seconds?

Mika found the opportunity to flee into the bathroom and close the door to finish his brushing. Little bastard.

"Hate you," I said within hearing distance. He poked his head out the door, hurt plastered on his face along with foam.