You Don't Care About Us.
It's a matter of trust.
I felt like a teenager again, the hormones raging beneath the skin, rampaging round the veins, the angry tears forming in the corner of my eyes. But it wasn’t my father driving me to distraction this time, it was him. Kaoru. My supposed significant other.
But how significant was I to him, when he could run around with half of Tokyo, sleeping with any guy he happened to find appealing? And of course, it was my fault, it always was. I was too skinny, too stupid, too goddamn frigid.
Though, of course, he would deny it with that smug little smile lurking on his face.
“Die, babe, you’re paranoid.”
And, of course, I’d give in. Every single time.
But how significant was I to him, when he could run around with half of Tokyo, sleeping with any guy he happened to find appealing? And of course, it was my fault, it always was. I was too skinny, too stupid, too goddamn frigid.
Though, of course, he would deny it with that smug little smile lurking on his face.
“Die, babe, you’re paranoid.”
And, of course, I’d give in. Every single time.