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Depollute me pretty baby.
Suck the rot right out of my bloodstream.
Saiki makes Teruhashi feel human. Whole. As she cries on his shoulder, her makeup smears, her mascara dripping down her face. Washing away her perfected perfect facade.
Oh, dilute me, gentle angel.
Her perfect reputation stretched thin over a secret hiding her past and how she truly believed no one would want someone touched, used, drained. She knew the madonna-whore pendulum would flip instantly against her if she ever portrayed the burden she walked around with everyday. So she simply didn’t.
You kissed me just to kiss me not to take me home.
She gripped hard onto Saiki’s hand. He gripped back harder.
It was simple.
It was sweetness.
It was good to know.
Acid burned her throat at the thought of going to school tomorrow, of plastering a flawless fake smile, and playing into the fantasies of what her “fans” wanted her to be. Her blessing had become her cage and captor.
.
You looked perfect. You look different.
I don’t wonder about your indifference.
Her mind was branded by the touch that burned and seared, almost hot enough to melt her to molten, before Saiki had saved her.
A smashed porcelain doll.
If I said you could never touch me.
You’d come over
and say I look lovely.
Yet Saiki thought she had never looked more beautiful.
Let's just sit a while.
Depollute me, gentle angel
And I'll feel the sickness less and less
Come and kiss me, pretty baby
Like we'll never have sex.