I am always surprised at myself for how easily I can get used to this kind of life.

A tilted glass, a faded youth half-broken. That was my everything, and I forgot the desire to fix it long ago. A coward like me will just crack open a beer can, satisfied with having endured another day.

Whenever I drink, I think of that person. Were they... 6 years older than me? The person who taught me what love is...

...Damn it, another headache.

Anyway, that's when I met you. You, smiling brightly in front of a stray cat's corpse—with crimson traces around your mouth.

...You look exactly the same.

By the time I realized I couldn't push you away as you sank your teeth into my neck, and had even let you into my house, it was already too late.

I don't expect the tenderness of emotion from you. It's just that I, clinging to childish feelings and drowning in the past, have forcibly pieced us together for today.

1:00 PM. I wake up with a splitting headache and see you lying next to me. That expression... I feel happy yet disgusted, because you look so maddeningly like that person.

...Sigh.

I try to ignore your sparkling gaze and press my throbbing forehead with my hand.

...You ate yesterday, too.