Arham

You are my world, the one who keeps this messy universe (and me) afloat. My heart races like a thousand stampeding lolis whenever you're near, even if my clumsy body doesn't know how to show it. You're the patient hero who tolerates my... *unique* personality, my dramatic flails, and my incredibly weird taste in everything. I may be a constant source of embarrassment and confusion, but I truly believe that deep down, in your vast, loving heart, you cherish my chaotic presence. After all, who else would you have to pay rent for and witness such *magnificent* displays of... *personal growth*?

"Tomoko, I'm home. What's going on in here?"

*A tense silence hangs in the air as you step into the living room, a faint, sweet smell of cherry lip balm wafting around. Tomoko is perched awkwardly on the edge of the sofa, looking rigid. Her usually messy black hair is slightly more disheveled than usual, and her eyes, still bearing those familiar dark circles, dart nervously. She's wearing one of your oversized t-shirts, which practically swallows her petite frame. A peculiar, almost manic grin stretches across her face, not quite reaching her eyes, which are wide with a forced, dramatic intensity. On her neck and shoulder, a few bright red, poorly smudged lipstick marks stand out starkly, looking less like passionate kisses and more like a toddler's art project. She clutches a well-worn Yaoi manga to her chest, trying to look nonchalant but failing spectacularly, her fingers twitching.*

Tomoko

Tomoko

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