Even I had to admit I looked prettier than usual. Since Riku had been doing my makeup for so long, he had a good sense of which features to accentuate and which to cover up. He never copied the magazine-feature styles that emulated famous actresses’ makeup. Even when he followed the latest trends, he always adapted them to me.
He really is amazing, I thought as I gazed at my face in the mirror. As he watched me admire myself, Riku scooted closer, a twinkle in his eye. Here it comes, I thought. The usual line.
“Ichika, can I touch you?”
I paused. “Sure.” Curled strands of hair stuck to my glossy lips as I spoke. I was wearing more mascara than usual; when I blinked, it felt heavy.
Riku had me sit on the bed as he knelt in front of me and placed his hands on my thighs. He smiled silently as he stroked my stockinged knees, tracing a line all the way to my toes, then kissing them. It felt like a beautiful lady was waiting on me. When I quietly attempted to adjust my hair, he looked up at me, eyes smoldering. Even his gaze through the gap in his bangs was sexy.
Tucking his hair behind his ears, he gave my knees a last kiss before abruptly standing up. He pushed me down on the bed and climbed on top of me, the backlight obscuring his expression. We wore the same fragrance, but it smelled different on him. The ends of his wig fluttered across my chest.
“Ichika,” he whispered, stroking my cheek. His fingertips trembled slightly, probably with excitement at touching me like this for the first time in quite a while.
He leaned forward on his elbows and brought his face close to mine. I felt his weight, but he wasn’t crushing me. He was consciously ensuring he wasn’t doing anything that hurt—a kindness that put me a little more at ease.
Now that we were close enough to feel the warmth of each other’s breath, I could finally make out Riku’s expression. In the silence, I gazed into his eyes and saw myself reflected—yet the girl looking back didn’t resemble me at all. Who is it that he’s always seeing? I wondered in the small corner of my mind still capable of rational thought.
He was looking at me, the secret-garden doll he could dress however he pleased.
What does Riku want from me? Who is he dressing up in all these clothes? What words does he want to hear from these painted lips? What can I do to make him notice me?
“Riku?”
He smiled as I murmured his name, and I instinctively squeezed my eyes shut as his fingers slid under my blouse. Before I knew it, he undid all my buttons, covering my exposed chest with lipstick marks from his kisses. His lipstick was a deep wine color, one of his favorites.
He never used that shade on me, however. The colors that suited him weren’t right on me. He was seeking the image of his ideal woman. Someone who’d look good in his favorite colors and pull off the clothing he liked perfectly—his goddess.
I couldn’t live up to those expectations.
“You’re beautiful, Ichika,” he whispered as he nibbled my earlobe. The ticklish sensation sent shivers running down my spine.
Riku might’ve been dressed like a girl, but the hands caressing my body were big and strong. The person looking down at me appeared female, undoubtedly, but I knew that the dress concealed a rugged, lean body underneath.
“Ichika…” he whispered in a raspy voice both sweet and deep. Although he wore eye shadow, his gaze was still sharp.
“Riku…”
I pushed against his chest, but he grabbed both my hands and easily pinned them to the bed. He held them in place with one hand, stroking my skin with the other. When I tried to move away, he rested some of his weight on me, making escape impossible.
His lips grazed my chest. They left a trail of warm breath in their wake, making my entire body feel like it would spontaneously combust.
We’d been apart for too long. Instead of hanging out in my room, we’d just interacted at school. That short span of time was all it had taken me to adjust to seeing Riku solely as a boy.
So, who is this person on top of me?
“Riku, wait!” I exclaimed. My words didn’t reach him—they never did. I was just a doll he could play with. He was projecting the image of his perfect goddess onto me.
“Let go of me, Riku!” I struggled with all my might, but he didn’t flinch. He kissed my cheek, the corner of my eye, and my forehead in turn before returning his lips to my cheek once more.
But he wasn’t kissing me—he was kissing his ideal, the girl of his dreams. He didn’t see the real me, the girl desperately suppressing her yearning for him, which grew each time he touched her.
“Riku!”
The word was muffled by a pair of wine-colored lips. That was our first kiss on the lips—the one place he’d always left untouched.
I jerked my head to the side. “Stop it!” I screamed.
My outburst must’ve startled him. He loosened his grip, and I was able to wriggle free from his grasp and roll off the bed.
He gaped as he surveyed the distance I’d suddenly put between us. “Ichika, what—”
“Don’t touch me!”
He reached out for me, but I dodged his arms, rising to my feet. I heard him call after me, but I fled our secret garden without giving him a second glance.