I have always loved words. I've used them, manipulated them, spent hours trying to find the right one. And I find myself stuck for something to describe him. He's... I don't know. Like nothing I've ever known. He bewilders me with his joy and his sorrow, with the way he goes from one to the other over such small things. He can't stay on one topic of conversation for more than a few sentences, but he'll spend hours trying to get me to smile and when he succeeds, he _squeals_ my name in that idiotic way he has... and I don't mind as much as I should.

He's there in the doorway, now, watching me. I'm very carefully keeping my eyes on my screen and my fingers moving, but I haven't typed actual words since he arrived. At least he's finally figured out how to be quiet.

He's got his own story, like one of my characters, the innocent about to be plunged into a world of corruption. I know the music business. It changed my brother-in-law into someone I don't even recognise sometimes. Tohma's ruthless. He's not. He's still a child. Not like his hero is, not at all, but he believes the best of everyone. Even me. But nothing gold can stay. I'll lose him. He's got his own story, and he's dragging me into it, with his laugh and his music and the way he looks at me with those big eyes that are enough to make you sick, with all the things I write about.

People like him shouldn't exist. They have no right to exist. He's a fiction, a figment of my imagination, and I'm really strapped to a bed somewhere, cracked at last and sedated out of my mind, and I'm dreaming all this.I must be. Because I never opened the book. There's no such thing as a happy ending.

I find my eyes wandering over to him. There's an energetic grace to the way he leans on the doorframe. A week ago, I would have said that was an oxymoron, but it isn't. Not anymore. He's ridiculous. He doesn't seem to follow any rules. He defies physics, and he defies words, and he defies history. I tried to hurt him first, to make him see that I can't love him, and he wouldn't leave, and now I don't really want him to.

No such thing.

But this is a pretty good beginning.