Doll (MikaYuu)

♦52♦ - Wet Night

THANK howliechan (bab) FOR THE PICTURE

Mika wasn't sick anymore, but he damn well made it still appear as if he were. He hardly spoke, and when he did, it was terse, shy responses. Especially with my mother - oh, my, my mother. He was on and off. One moment, they'd be cracking a joke or having some hyped up conversation and then the next, he'd hide under the covers and ask me to get him something from the kitchen just to avoid her.

It was recovery.

I tried to research whatever could've been affecting him. Of course, he was still escaping his depression and stress about certain things... But when I focused on him, his eyes, his smile, his little gestures - he looked so much happier. Mika was just shy. I learned he was forced to be so strict and poised for the sake of standing out back at work. Shy models never survived.

That fact shined through in the end.

I mean, Mika was really shy. He'd constantly tap on me lightly for the sake of risking annoying me with my name, although hearing him call it was the most beautiful sound on the planet. He was afraid to step in the kitchen when my mother and I cooked because he told me he thought it looked rude to just sit and stare. He hardly joined the conversations at the dinner table, even when my mother and I tried to aim the talk towards him. His entire face would just turn red and he'd eye at me for assistance. I had to save his soul once from accidentally eating meat when my mother unknowingly offered him some and he was too nervous to turn it down.

The only person, or thing, he seemed to be intimate with was the damn cat. Terminator worshipped him now. She'd hiss at me if I tried to approach Mika while she was on his lap. I got clawed far too many times trying to kiss my own lover while she defensively disagreed.

I had also developed a severe weakness to a new style of Mika. I had to train him to become comfortable borrowing my clothes, because when he did... I wanted to just love him all over the place. He wore his hair in a small ponytail most of the time and would cozy around in my hoodies and pajama pants and I couldn't explain the feeling. I kissed him all of the time when I could, but I tried to restrain in front of my mother. She had nothing against it, I just didn't want to boast or do anything that would seem to taunt her since my dad was gone.

Although she very much seemed to be interested in some yoga instructor. Mika and I constantly were listening to her stories about this mysterious person. You know how odd it is to eat dinner while imagining a pregnant woman do yoga?

No matter what happened, though, I still felt as if Mika in anyway was at harm. I always checked on his body in nonchalant ways to make sure any bruise or scar was faded and no fresh ones. He wasn't one to do that kind of stuff, as far as I knew, but I never knew if some kind of relapse would occur.

His scar under his eye was ever so badass, by the way.

As of lately, I felt as if I weren't as close to him. He definitely trusted me, and hated being alone with anyone but me... But his reservedness was draining me. I felt so shut out. But I knew that was just Mika being himself. It hurt sometimes.

"Alright, c'mon kiddos. Grocery time."

I groaned on the couch while Mika just obediently popped up from the cushion. My mom smiled at him and gave me some look as if I were supposed to be more like him or something.

"You got any preferences in mind?" my mother kindly asked him, referring to food Mika could actually survive on instead of eating dry cereal and fruit all of the time while we casually forked down whatever was in the fridge.