Chapter 11 - My Lover's Eyes

"You're like a japanese doll, an expression that never

changes, Softly, eyes close. I sleep beside you,

sleep well..."

-Kr Cube-

"Towards the sweet paradise where decadence rules,

In the midst of a choking fragrance, Close your eyes,

Embrace me."

-Perfect Garden-

The next day, I tried to write more of my story, but I couldn't come up with a single decent word. I sat in the roomy living room with my black notebook in front of me, constantly jotting down ideas, to only find myself crumpling up the paper a few minutes later. All I could think of was Damien.

"I give up!" I cried out loud, frustrated as hell. I grabbed a scribbled piece of paper and began twisting and scrunching it in my small, delicate hands. I created many sculptures and shapes in the loose leaf, and then I suddenly twisted it into a long, thick cylindrical shape, symbolizing Damien's neck, and I began to wring it furiously, as if it was a white paper voodoo doll, which I could suffocate him with.

The image of him and his lover was permanently burned in my head all night. I tossed and turned, thinking of the two of them together, holding hands, making out, engaging in passionate sexual intercourse. Often when I look at someone I receive images of them naked, masturbating, or making love, but thinking about Damien was much more cruel and unneeded. The visions remained clear in my mind, like soap bubbles you just couldn't burst. They were bright, vivid, colorful, and explicit, and they lingered in the air above me.

I spent most of the night reminiscing too, thinking about what a gullible fool I was to ever believe his lies. He told me what we had was true love, that he wanted to eventually get married and settle down with me, that we were soul mates, and that he would immediately kill himself if he ever lost me. He is an intelligent manipulator, who's eyes are as sincere as God while he mentally and emotionally ties me down with his steel chains of deception. What little, innocent girl wouldn't fall for that charming facade of kindness?

I sighed. If I had never met him, I wouldn't be half the shoujo dolly I am today. But amidst all of my haunting pain, I deeply love myself. The time with Damien was cruel, but that's how the present is created, by time's and God's intolerable cruelty.

The doorbell rang, which made me jump. I didn't know who could possibly be at the door at this time of day, Morgana was out, her father was at work, and I merely had any friends to come and visit me. My lack of friends was both my weakness and my vitality.

To my surprise, Koji was at the door. "Hi, is Morgana home?"

I shook my head. "I'm sorry, she's out at a job interview right now."

"I came to return some of the stuff she lent me." He said, holding a stack of compact disks in his hands.

Recognizing a perfect opportunity to seize Koji, I said, "She should be home anytime soon. You could come in and wait for her while keeping me company."

Koji agreed and walked inside, removed his shoes and planted himself on the black leather couch.

"Do you want anything to eat?" I offered, still standing in the hallway.

"No thanks... I already ate." He replied quietly. "But a glass of water would be nice."

I walked into the kitchen, poured water into a white cup, and checked my reflection in the hallway mirror. When it comes to the opposite sex, I am not too caught up in my looks, but I always make sure I do not look horrible. I normally don't search for anyone's attention through my looks, but rather my own satisfaction that I do look nice. My hair was up in pigtails like normal, and I wore a black velour top with shiny silver bell sleeves which had a zigzagged ribbon up the chest, which reminded me of some sort of weird torniquet, a bandage stitching and holding both sides of my split torso together. I wore a puffy black skirt with white lace on the bottom, paired with pure white stockings.

I returned to the living room and handed him his glass of cold water.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." I smiled delicately, and sat on the other end of the sofa, my legs crossed. "So... how have you been?"

"I've been okay." Koji replied, drinking some of the water.

"Anything new...?" I asked.

"No, nothing at all."

Apparently my attempted conversation starters didn't have much effect. A few minutes of silence passed. "You're a very quiet person." I remarked.

He smiled a little. "You are too."

I smiled back. "I am for a purpose." I replied. "I feel powerless when it comes to words. My thoughts in my mind are very strong things, but when I go to speak, they lose their significance."

"I don't think so." Koji disagreed. "You seem very deep."

"Thank you." I felt a little flattered. "Another reason I don't like to talk is because it often hurts. I have a preference not to talk, it's not that I hate my voice, but it's because it feels like I have to put a lot of effort towards saying things. When I talk, my throat feels weird and it feels like there's a burning sensation in my chest. It's sort of difficult to explain."

He nodded. "I see.. does it feel like it's burning now?"

"A little."

We continued talking, for as long as half and hour, and I felt our bond continuously becoming stronger. Around four fifteen, Koji glanced at his watch. "Shouldn't Morgana be back by now?"

I blinked. "Well... I assumed she would be back by now... I have no idea where she is. Maybe she's shopping."

"Yeah, maybe." He agreed. "She seems to really like shopping."

I shifted in my spot on the couch. "Yeah. Besides... we get along good without Morgana, don't we? I mean... we're okay without her, right?" I played with the lace on the hem of my skirt and slowly looked up at him.

Koji smiled again. "Yeah, I think we're okay. What are you suggesting...?"

I smiled at him coyly. "I was just thinking... remember that time we went on the roof of that hotel with Morgana?"

"Yeah, I do." He replied. "That was fun."

"Well.. do you want to go there now?" I asked. "I find the scenery of the metropolis very intriguing from up there. We can continue on our conversation."

"Okay. That would be cool."

We put on our coats and shoes and walked outside. As I turned the key in the lock of the front door, a plan was etching into the blueprint of my conniving mind...

--

Koji and I took the route fifty-five bus to Provencher Boulevard, and walked through the entrance of the hotel.

"The bathroom is on the second floor, right?" Koji quietly asked as we walked through the ancient lobby's hallway.

"That's right." I replied, leading him up the stairway to the second floor. The entire level smelled strongly of cleaning agents, so we assumed the hotel's maids were cleaning something up. We walked down the lengthy corridor, past the dozens of wooden doorways, until we reached an oak door that read 'Mens'.

I looked around to check if any of the maids were watching us. When it looked clear, we quickly walked into the men's lavatory. To our luck, the corner window was open. I stood on top of the toilet and crawled through the narrow hole onto the slightly unstable fire escape. Koji followed me.

"It sure is nice up here... isn't it?" I asked as we reached the roof. It was a bit windy and there were a few inches of refined snow at the top, but the scenery still looked quite exquisite.

We sat by the large chimney to feel its warmth, just as we had done the very first time we were here with Morgana. "Tell me about yourself." I requested, looking into his dark ebony eyes. "I merely know anything about you." I normally refuse to indulge in any form of information about my friends and lovers because I like mystery. However, Koji felt strangely different. He sincerely intrigued me.

Koji, born Kojiro Sakai, was born in the heart of Okinawa, Japan, during the summer of 1987. His father is a licensed pharmacist and his mother, a housekeeper. He is an only child and lived most of his childhood in a large house with his parents and grandmother until 1999, when Koji's father received a job offer to work at one of the biggest hospitals in our metropolis.

"Hmm.. did you know any former geisha?" I asked him. I had been interested in geisha an awful lot recently, reading novels such as Arthur Golden's 'Memoirs of a Geisha', as well as 'Geisha, a life' by Mineko Iwasaki.

"I've met a few from the Kyoto districts." Koji replied.

"That is so cool." I giggled. "I would love to meet a geisha... they are so beautiful and elegant."

"They are." He agreed.

I told him a bit about my interests, such as my immortal, lifelong passion for reading and writing. "I also love clothes and fashion. I'm very picky when it comes to my personal style though, my clothing has to be lacy, velvety, girlish, and cute."

Koji smiled. "I like the way you dress. It's very cute. I have always liked the style, the whole gothic lolita fashion. I would see it every so often back in Japan."

"Oh?" I laughed softly. "Do you think when you're older you will develop a lolita complex?"

"Perhaps." He laughed.

'Lolita complex' is the term for when older men find young, adolescent girls attractive, the term 'lolita" comes from the name of the heroine in Vladmir Nobakov's controversial novel of the same name. People often associate me with the 'lolita complex' term because supposedly there's always an old man staring at me, gawking and 'having an earthquake in their pants' as my father once said. It is a disgusting thing, but I never notice so I can't care what those middle aged men think.

I wanted to tell Koji that I adored him... but I wasn't sure how to say it. I am very used to rejection, but I didn't necessarily want to face rejection at this moment.

He checked his watch. "It's almost seven. Do you think we should head back to see if Morgana's home?"

"Sure." I nodded. Suddenly a good idea to show him how I felt popped into my head, but I hestitated to do it.

We carefully walked down the shaking fire exit and snuck through the crawlspace into the corner bathroom stall. I thought again about my plan... should I do it? Or should I not?

"...Can I hug you?" I asked with a shaky voice as he walked up to the bathroom exit.

"Well, okay." He replied, looking a slight perplexed. He knew I commonly never ask people about such things.

I wrapped my small arms around Koji's waist and embraced him tightly. He enveloped my body in his arms and I slowly looked into his charcoal eyes. Time passed, and my instincts told me to do it and my mind completely slowed down while an imaginary being quickly forced my body to take action.

I abruptly placed my hands on the sides of his face and leaned forward. I licked his soft lips with the tip of my tongue as he tensed up but quickly relaxed and opened his sensous mouth. Kissing with the tip of one's tongue feels like melting ice, and that's what we did, french kissed in the men's bathroom.

I don't mean to sound sappy, but it was perfect. His dark eyes and fine lips mesmerized me, and I didn't remember anything, even if I could, I would not care. I didn't know who I was. I couldn't recall what building I was in. And I for sure did not give a fuck that I was kissing Koji for minutes on end next to a smelly urinal in a worn down hotel.

--

This is the last chapter of Lolita Complex for awhile... I'm putting the story on a hault while I gather ideas for a new story I'm writing. The new story is about a nurse along with three other nurses that are just as ill as their patients. I'm aiming for it to be just as dark and interesting as my Lolita Complex and Illness Illusion story combined. For those who are interested in reading it, the prologue/first chapter will be on fictionpress in early July.

Thank you.

Tokiko