| Semi - Automatic | 2P!Romano x 2P!Reader

Or at least, that's what he wants to tell himself. In all honestly, he doesn't think he deserves to have his most fashionable muffler tied across his mouth, not at all! No, because one, he can't actually breathe, and two, because he didn't do anything wrong.

Okay, living in this world, technically he did do something wrong. But was making conversation really such a bad thing? He didn't believe so—but then again, residing in the Parallel Universe of Second Players kind of clashed with that.

"Mmf, mmpf!" He whined, wriggling his hands behind his back (which were bound with a wrinkled old necktie that was most definitely not his), and kicking the passenger door softly because he didn't want to leave footprints on this kind-of-nice-car.

...Hey, he had a love for all things beautiful—yes that even included cars, and he didn't want to make even an automobile less attractive than it already was, even if it belonged to this very unfriendly person who'd tied him up, gagged him, and, well, blindfolded him too.

"Shut up already. We're almost there." Francois commanded in a careless voice. He kept his sleep-deprived purple eyes on the road as he drove towards Luciano's house.

Hearing that, Flavio began to relax a bit. His brother always made him happy. Even though his brother kind of hated his guts.

Once they made it to the right street, Francois parked, noticed Flavio couldn't exactly move, reached over, unbuckled his seat belt for him, opened the passenger door, quickly untied him, and then shoved him out onto the street. Quite literally. "Ouchie—that hurt, you bully!" Flavio complained once he fell to the cement.

Ignoring him, Francois emotionlessly stated, "Here's your shit." He tossed out the several suitcases and duffel bags that were in the backseat.

"Oh no—" The uptight Italian caught each and every piece of luggage before they could hit the wet grass beside him. Once he looked back up to say goodbye to his close friend, he saw nothing. An empty street. Far away, he could hear the sound of tires screeching away.

With a sigh, he said aloud, "Ciao, Francois."

He gathered his stuff and stood up. He also wondered why Francois never liked to hear him talk and why he had to gag him like that. How could anyone not want to get fashion advice from the fabulous Flavio, after all? All he did was criticize Francois's choices in wrinkled clothing anyway. Still, Francois shouldn't have forced him to shut up like that. Cheh.

...But then again, Flavio knew it wasn't just Francois who was always cranky. The whole world was cranky. Everyone living in the Second Player reality was cranky.

As the dyed-blonde male began his walk down the neighborhood, he wondered more about the place he called 'home'. For some reason, the colors were always dark. Every building here was either gray or black. Plants hardly grew. The sky was always clouded over. There were absolutely no bursts of color even among the city, except for maybe when Flavio was there. Yup, he liked to dress in bright colors, was that a problem?

Usually, he felt like he was living in a world of black-and-white. Crime here was very high. Black or silver graffiti was everywhere—the way it was around the world.

The Second Players knew they weren't alone. They were aware of the fact that there existed an alternate universe—one where they each had their own Counterparts with opposite personalities and of other colors.

The residents here knew they lived in the crappier world. Any place was better than the Parallel reality.

Glancing up, Flavio noticed that it was getting late—which he didn't like. He knew it couldn't be helped. The Nighttime around here was dangerous; it was when the creatures of darkness were lured out from their caverns.

Still, he couldn't bring himself to hide; he had someplace to be. Normally he wouldn't dare to stay out at this hour, but he absolutely needed to see you.

Nothing else mattered to him—you were his everything. He had long lost faith in the rest of this world.

He continued his walk home. Maybe he'd get enough rest to wake up early and see you.

Or maybe not. It was getting darker and the Night was growing closer. He had a feeling he'd be trying to escape a lot of people between now and getting to his house. He could already hear someone creeping up behind him.

He picked up his pace, almost no stars overhead and the moon nearly faded to black.

Oh, how this world was filled with insanity.

Night falls, with gravity

The earth turns, from sanity

Taking my only friend I know,

He leaves a lot; his name is 'Hope'

Gasping for air, Flavio fumbled for his house key. He was running so fast that he accidentally face-planted into his front door. This caused him to drop the key and the mob of lunatics to get closer. "I AM NOT LUCIANO; NOR FELICIANO OR LOVINO OR WHOEVER SO STOP CHASING MEEEE!" He wailed, just as he managed to pick up the key, unlock the door and stumble inside. He slammed it quickly just as the small riot knocked head-first against the wood—much like he had done just a few seconds before.

With a sigh of relief, he locked the door again and slid down to the floor. Luckily he still had all his luggage and hadn't lost any of it during the pursuit.

Glancing up, he noticed that the place still looked the same as it did a year before. Throwing knives were scattered across the ground (most likely due to their dullness), along with files of other Italian Mafia bosses (Luciano liked to keep track of his rivals), and in the kitchen, to Flavio's delight, was a neat set-up for cooking gourmet pasta. The only interest Flavio directly shared with his brother. "Ah, Luci, I've missed you..." He mumbled to himself.

Standing up, he began the trek upstairs. It was quite difficult to navigate around this house since, as hinted, his sibling wasn't entirely tidy.

He would make sure to clean up later. After all, he wasn't surprised that Luciano couldn't keep the place nice without him for a whole year.

Thinking about his long absence only reminded him of you. He was excited to finally be home from boarding school. The entire stay there, he longed for your presence. He'd missed you nearly as much as he'd missed his lovely little brother.

No, he had to admit this to himself—he missed you more than he missed Luciano.

Ironically, he'd broken up with you before leaving town a whole year ago. He knew he wouldn't see you for a long time, and he knew you'd still want him back by the time he came home.

He knew he was most definitely correct.

He wanted to see you beg for him. He wanted to see you plead for him to take you back. Your ruby-red eyes widened with hope, your shiny black hair in your face as you told him, "I need you back, Flavio..."

Ah, yes. Just thinking about it excited him. To be honest, he wanted to see you hurt—in emotional pain over him. He wanted your heart to ache, your mind to think only of him.

Flavio disliked his mental sadism, but... it was just a part of who he was.

Every Second Player had a bit of evil in them, after all.

I'm never what I like,

I'm double-sided

And I just can't hide...

I kinda like it

When I make you cry

'Cause I'm twisted up, I'm twisted up, inside

You decided to cut detention today.

It was stupid anyways. Why should you get detention for calling your asshole teacher an asshole? That's what he was, after all—and you thought you had the right to say so.

It was Friday, so you figured someone, somewhere, was doing something fun. Hm, maybe Lutz. Or Allen. Oh wait—Luciano lived closer, didn't he? You'd gotten your license taken away last week, so you didn't have a car to drive somewhere far in. You barely had the energy to walk all the way home from school. At least that hot Italian lived a block away.

As you started the walk towards his house (yeah, you didn't really think to call him and ask), you growled at the sight of the weather. It was cold and wet again. The streets had large puddles and the sky was a foggy gray.

Hadn't this world ever heard of the word 'sunshine'? Books imported from the 'other' world always talked about it. Was it actually sunny in the realm where the 'First Players' lived?

Thinking about the other side, you began to wonder what your other self looked like. She was supposed to be your opposite, wasn't she? But then again, you'd heard that not all Counterparts were direct opposites.

As you passed by another large puddle, you happened to catch a glimpse of your reflection: Large red eyes, jet-black hair, and white skin came to view. Huh, if you had to guess what your other half looked like, she probably had (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair. Maybe (s/c) skin too.

All this thinking distracted you from what got you thinking in the first place. Overhead, the clouds began to shift, and a small patch of sun shimmered down. As if struck with a hot whip, you gasped and looked up.

Sunlight here was rare.

And, to your dismay, you realized that it was only here to remind you of the Night. Most likely.

It became Night quickly in this world. Even though it was only 3:30 PM, the darkness was looming near. You could tell by your shadow. After all, it was common knowledge that shadows grew longer as the Night came closer. As if to match the shift, yours—and every other non-psychotic Second Player's—courage lowered as the moon began to arise.

Yes, even you were frightened of the Night. You normally weren't afraid of anything—but the stars' time to shine here was considered dangerous.

Think of it as The Purge. Except, every night. That's why it was now called, 'the Night'.

You had less time than you thought. Damn your parents for taking your car keys away—did they want you dead? ...Probably.

Now scared, you broke into a full-on run towards your friend's house. The daytime was safe; at least in regards to what it was like outside during Nighttime. Perhaps you could stay at Luciano's place till the morning.

You'd had no idea his motherfucking brother would be there.

The horrors of the Night melt away

Under the warm glow of survival of the day

Then we move on,

My shadow grows taller along with my fears

And my frame shrinks smaller as Night grows near...

Thankfully, you made it to Luciano's house before the darkness came.

He hadn't been at school today, so he must have been home either smoking pot with Francois or sharpening his knives with Lutz and Kuro all day. Or at least, that's what you always assumed. Since the day you met him, you'd always wondered how he got along so well with Lutz and Kuro. Or... anyone, to be precise.

Luciano was cool and all, but he didn't really get along with your other friends. Oliver had called him a 'wailing jet engine of infantile stultiloquence', while Allen just went with calling Luciano an 'asswipe'. And Matt always called him a 'hoser'. Plus Zao called him a—well, that was enough.

Standing outside his place, you shot him a quick text:

[Name]: Can I come over

He replied a few seconds later.

Luciano: Yeah

[Name]: Good cuz I'm in your driveway

Slipping your phone back into your pocket, you stepped up to his front door and let yourself in. No one was truly polite in this world, anyways.

As you hiked through Luciano's mess of a house, you soon found him in the living room with Lutz and Kuro. They were passing around bottles of Lutz's beer and Luciano's wine, plus some of Kuro's weird Japanese drugs. The main lights were all off, shades drawn, and nothing but neon rave lights, the TV, and stereos illuminated the room. You sighed and spoke to get their attention, "Hey Luciano sweetie, your living room looks like Jesse's from Breaking Bad when he let all those druggies and homeless alcoholics stay in his house, y'know that?"

The tan-skinned Italian set down his wine glass and sighed lovingly, "My dearest _____. It's good to see you too~"

Before you could reply, a voice cut in—"Hey sister! Wanna come party with us? We've got stuff!" Lutz winked at you, flirtatious as always.

Kuro blew out a puff of smoke from who the hell knows what that contraption is, "If you're gonna stay, you gotta promise to call me 'master' and wear that maid dress that's in my bag over there." He pointed vaguely toward a corner in the room.

As you took in a breath to retort back, Luciano interrupted with, "Hey, my house, my rules. She doesn't have to call you 'master', you damn bastard."

"Well I—" As Luciano and Kuro began to argue, albeit somewhat playfully, you helped yourself to some of the 'stuff' they had with them. Lutz even showed you the device Kuro was using earlier. Apparently it was a new prototype that was used to smoke something called—

"-Oh hey ____, there's something I forgot to tell you." Luciano paused his (now rather friendly) conversation with Kuro to inform you, "...Did you hear my brother is back in town?"

You almost dropped a full glass of wine.

The silence that followed was uncomfortable. You wanted to say something, and yet you couldn't. You felt like you were frozen in place.

"Haha, looks like she missed him~" Lutz teased, breaking the ice.

...Of course you missed him. Since when was he back? And why didn't he tell you...? Honestly, you'd missed him like crazy. Did he still consider you a... 'friend'? Or simply an 'ex'? "...Where is he?" You finally managed to ask.

Luciano pointed upstairs, "Maybe still unpacking."

Your heart was pounding. As you took a step forward, a sudden weakness in your knees nearly caused you to fall over. Your arms were shaking and your breath was labored as you turned towards the staircase. Flavio, I swear... you began to think, If you're just going to come back and act like nothing ever happ—

At that moment, the brightly-clothed Italian bounded down the stairs. "Ah... _____-amore! I didn't know you were here~!"

Your eyes instantly widened, "Oh, I uh..." 

Without hesitating, he skipped up to you and gave you a tight hug. "I have not spoken to you in ages! Ah, we must get together! Let us go for some coffee tomorrow, yes?" As he awaited your response, he nuzzled his face into your hair—rubbing circles down your back affectionately. "Is that a yes? It has to be, correct~?"

"Well..." To be honest, you'd been hoping he'd ask to take you somewhere. "I guess,"

He pulled away happily, "Great! Shall we go tomorrow morning~?"

...Were you stunned by his sudden intrusion into your life again? Hell yes.

But, he was the only other sane person in this world—at least, for being a Second Player. You weren't sure if you wanted to get involved with him again, but what negative thing would result from it? You knew that he would never hurt someone, especially in the way the other '2Ps' would. He was just Flavio—the fashion-obsessed, scarf-addicted, Aviator-wearing Flavio that you knew and, unfortunately, loved.

The next day, he wound up taking you to Peet's Coffee & Tea. It was a nice place, better than Starbucks, but casual enough not to be considered a date. Outside, the weather was warm. It was one of those rare sunny days; it lifted your mood and made you feel serene. "So how was boarding school?" You asked as you sipped your drink.

Sitting across from you, he cheerfully explained how fun and educating his classes were, along with all the inspirational instructors he met and all the extraordinary, bright students he came across. Apparently, boarding school was a blast. "And in our dorm rooms, we even had our own bathrooms! I got to wake up at six a.m. to straighten my hair and no one complained; it was so different than living with Luciano! And I had a really kind roommate—he was a crybaby though, his name was Gilen Beilshmidt—and even the cafeteria food was amazing, did you know they served pizza every Friday? And, and..." He continued to go on and on.

You were glad to see him happy. No one in the Parallel world was ever truly happy, but the shining sun seemed to be reaching everyone today. You wanted to hear Flavio say he missed you, but... the words never came. He kept on describing his school instead. You thought this would make you feel jealous, but it didn't. With the sun's rays beating down on you from the coffee shop's windows, you couldn't feel anything but joy and peace of mind.

Especially with Flavio here with you.

When the sun is climbing window sills

And the silver lining rides the hills

I will be saved,

For one whole day

Until the sun makes the hills its grave

You couldn't deny that you missed him to the point of insanity.

He made other small talk with you. Politely, you chatted—but on the inside, there were questions you were dying to know, you were dying to ask. But these questions were personal; something only a girlfriend could ask her boyfriend. This relationship between you and Flavio was now platonic, thus you couldn't get your answers without making everything... awkward again.

Secretly, you wondered what he'd really been up to for this past year. How many parties did he go to? How many nights did he get wasted, screw someone, and not remember it in the morning? Did he even do that—or was he too concentrated on his studies? Did he date anyone else? And why did he never call you? Was fashion school really that damn important?!

After coffee, you both walked around the town with no real destination. Eventually you wound up at a children's park. You were both sitting on a pair of swings as he finally said something of emotional interest, "...Do you remember the last time we were here?" A fond smile was on his lips, along with a nostalgic glint in his eye that was hidden by his large orange sunglasses.

A warmth seeped into your chest, "...Yeah," You whispered.

He turned to look at you, his hands still gripped onto the swing's chains. "The time we first met. It was pretty fabulous."

You couldn't help but laugh, "You were wearing that bright-red fedora and that fluffy pink feather boa. What the hell were you thinking?"

He tsked, "Girl, that style was in at the moment," His expression soon turned to that of reminiscence. "You were with Ion and Francois. Hanging out with them, you looked lost. I wanted you to let loose and have fun. That's what real friends do. I noticed from far away—and that's why I came up to you guys." His voice lowered, but he still spoke with a smile, "...I didn't know you at the time, but I wanted to be your friend. And, make you happy..."

His words began to heal the place in your heart where his absence had caused pain. "Flavio...-"

He tilted his head and slipped off his sunglasses, revealing his pink-colored irises to you. "—Did I make you happy, amore?" By now, he was implying your past relationship. He was asking if you thought he had been a good boyfriend.

"Well, I think you-"

"—Oh my gawd, is that Flavio?! Hi, Flavio! Hiii~!" Some passing girls rather obnoxiously greeted your ex, waving a bit longer than needed.

"Ciao~!" He waved back, and without letting you finish your other sentence, asked you, "Oh, just a moment—do you mind?"

Your voice was robotic as you stated, "No..."

He took off to talk with those other girls. While you were in the middle of a conversation. The only real one since he came back. The only one that made your feelings for him dance and burn like fire; he left you simply to greet some fangirls he barely knew. That... was not okay.

He was giving you more mixed signals than his own mix-matched designer suits. Did he still like you, or did he not? He seemed to act as casually as back when you were a couple, except for his small-talk earlier. Then he brought up an old memory, only to leave partially through your answer?

That made you angry.

At a time like now, you weren't sure if you really wanted him back or not—watching him flirt with two other girls. You'd hoped he'd ask you out again, but that was clearly not in his thoughts.

You weren't sure about your feelings. Did you really still love him, or was it just that you missed someone who was also your best friend? Someone who could easily drift away and become just another stranger if you didn't try to keep him close?

More thoughts swam through your mind as he bid farewell to the girls—with a kiss on the cheek for each, you noticed—and when he got back to you, by then you'd made your decision. "Hey..." You greeted again, standing up from the swing.

He smiled, subconsciously dusting off his white dress shirt. "Hi~"

He didn't even apologize for ditching you. Oh well—you were't about to let that get to you. "Um, Flavio..." You sighed, unable to look him in the eye. "Th-There's something I've been wanting to tell you..." He was what you needed. You were about to say you wanted him back.

"Oh?" Crossing his arms in interest, he tilted his head slightly and lowered his Aviators once more. "Yes, amore, beg~" He purred, "Say you want me back...~" He winked.

...You just about wanted to punch him in the face.

So you did.

And then left. Like a boss.

I'm semi-automatic,

My prayer's schizophrenic

But I'll live on,

Yeah I'll live on, yeah I'll live on

The lovely sun was fading. You'd always loved the sun; it protected you from the Night. Standing here—right outside your front door—didn't seem entirely safe, even if you barricaded the door right after slipping inside.

You knew you probably should go in. However, you were still in shock of what had just happened. And, by that, you meant after you had punched your ex in the face.

Glancing down, your shadow was getting more prominent—another ill reminder as to the approaching darkness. Still, you couldn't stop re-playing the earlier scene in your head over and over again.

After you had walked away from Flavio, he shamelessly began to chase after you. "A-Amore, wait!" He'd shouted.

You'd ignored him. And yet, he followed you all the way to your house, going on and on about how he was just joking and that you "didn't have to get so angry" with him. Because after all, he was "the most beautiful and lovable person in the world" who apparently "didn't deserve to have an enemy".

...His words, not yours.

You simply gave him the silent treatment. And when you made it to your front door, he finally gave in and stopped all nonsense. He'd gripped your shoulders, a rarely-serious expression on his face, and told you in a low Italian-accented voice, "...I'm sorry."

That was all you'd wanted to hear: An apology. 

Before you could respond, he'd taken in a deep breath, leaned in, and softly gave you a kiss goodbye. "...See you at school, _____." With that, he left you alone, just like you'd been itching for him to do since you left the park. Now, you weren't so sure if you wanted him to go.

Well, too late—he was gone now.

You were left with the same question. Did you like him or not? You'd already realized that even if he seemed normal compared to his evil friends, he was not. Flavio was still messed up, but mentally.

Sure he'd never hurt anyone, like they had, but that didn't change the fact that he liked to wound people emotionally; you were proof of that.

At the moment, it was almost Night. Could you really survive in this horrible, crime-filled place without him? You'd done it for a year, and honestly, it felt even more like Hell on Earth. He'd been the only person who genuinely cared about you—or so it had seemed. None of your other friends had been 'true' friends.

Now safe at home, you spent the evening pondering if Flavio was important enough to you.

...After a while, you figured you really could face the dark world without him. He was an asshole anyways.

By the time the Night wears off...

The dust is down and shadows burn,

I will rise and stand my ground,

Waiting for the Night's return...

The next day at school, you were hanging out with Allen, Oliver, Zao, and Matt before class. Allen was trying to get everyone to join him in a game of baseball later, while Matt argued that instead of baseball, it should be hockey. Oliver instantly sided with Allen, and Zao covered his ears to block out their infuriatingly loud volume. You were paying semi-attention until a certain someone happened to catch your eye.

Apparently, he noticed you too.

"Aw shit, hide me." You growled as you dove behind your friends.

Instinctively, the four boys obeyed and blocked you from view with their bodies as they continued their arguing. Yep, you had them trained.

Still, Mr.-Italian-fancy-pants began to walk towards your group. You had no idea what he might have to say, but at the moment, you didn't want to hear it.

"Ah... my dearest friends. Long time no see, yes?" Flavio sauntered up with his arms open, as if preparing to give them all a hug.

Your friends stared blankly at him. They knew he was your ex—and they were waiting for your call.

"...Help me." You whispered to them.

And cue the madness. "...YOU DOUCHEBAG! I SWEAR I'M GONNA KICK YOUR FUCKING ASS!" Allen had already pulled out his favorite bat.

As if preparing for battle, Matt put out his cigarette and pulled out a hockey stick from basically out of nowhere. "...You mess with the moose, you get the antlers." He emotionlessly stepped out in front of you towards Flavio.

"Good heavens, it appears as though we have found ourselves within an armed conflict. Shall we join, Mr. Knife~?" Oliver asked the inside of his pink backpack.

The sound of a thin, sharp metal sliding out of a carrier echoed within your mind. "Heh, what's with all the talk? Can I just cut him already?" Zao held out a samurai sword; his red eyes warning he was out for blood.

Flavio, on the other hand, looked like he was about to faint. "I-I-I—" He stuttered uncontrollably.

Okay... you had to admit, seeing Flavio all cute and defenseless like that—you thought you should help him. Once your friends started hurting him, you knew they wouldn't be able to stop. It was like telling a pack of pit bulls to sic an enemy. In this case, the pit bulls were your dangerous puppy-like friends, and the so-called enemy was simply your sadistic ex-boyfriend. Fair? You thought not.

"Guys... stop. You've scared him enough." Alright, Flavio didn't deserve to be beaten down by Allen's nail-covered baseball bat or sliced apart by Zao's sword. Nor... slashed with Oliver's kitchen knife or struck with Matt's prized hockey stick. That was just plain morbid. Come on.

"Sh-She's right, you meanies! Now can you please allow us to speak alone?!" Flavio had ran to your side, nearly hiding behind you. Allen, Oliver, Zao, and Matt kept their glares locked on him. "...B-By ourselves? You know, with no one around? Gone? Just the two of us? Da solo? A-lone?" He was twirling a lock of his dyed-blonde hair—a nervous tic you easily recognized.

Once you signaled for them to leave, the group of four reluctantly left, grumbling their own insults towards the guy they only knew as "fucking Luciano's damn brother" and "_____'s stupid ex". Sighing in relief, Flavio faced you. "Ah, amore, hello. I didn't get to greet you before those ruffians seized my attention," He dusted off his all-white designer suit and, rather nervously, adjusted his sky-blue scarf. "I-I just wanted to more appropriately apologize to you," For once, he wasn't wearing sunglasses, and his pink-colored eyes looked right into your own. He pulled you closer as his expression softened, "I was just... excited to see you, th-that's all..."

You weren't fully convinced, "Then why did you act like that? With those girls and then like a total jerk? You were pissing me off—you know that?"

He sighed, ignoring the school bell as it rung. "I just missed you that much. I-I wanted to see if..." He trailed off, looking a bit shy. You'd never seen him without overflowing pride and this self-conscious moment of his would stay in your memory for a long time. "I-I wanted to see if you missed me half as much as I missed you. I know I shouldn't have tried to make you jealous, or trick you into saying how much you wanted me back, I truly was being an unfabulous ignoramus..."

His words took you by surprise, "Flavio—"

"-I still like you, _____. Very much so. I was hoping to the God of Fashion that you felt the same way. P-Please try to understand..." He was looking down—pale cheeks momentarily flushed pink—and fiddling with the buttons on his coat, how cute. "I never wanted to stay apart... I-I wish we never broke up, amore."

Things were starting to make sense. So he only broke up with you before leaving for boarding school because he wanted the absence to hurt less? He had still intended on getting back with you...? How could he have not said that earlier? Or even called you once in a while? You could understand if he was busy, though...

You were shocked to know he felt this way. Though, of course, in the best of ways. You were happy. Very, very happy. You could just kiss him—

Oh wait. You could just kiss him.

Without thinking twice, you reached out and forcefully grabbed his collar with your fists. You then instantly pulled his mouth to yours and kissed him roughly, ignoring his small gasp of surprise. Opened or not, his lips were still just as soft as you remembered.

Ah, how you missed this.

"A-Amore..." He stuttered between kisses, and you paused. He slowly pulled away, grinning cheekily. "Anxious, were you~?" He winked playfully.

You smiled—it felt like centuries since you did so. "Um, Flavio... so does this mean..." You looked up, hopeful. Your next words came out in a very quiet whisper, _{"...So can we get back together now?"}

He would say yes, wouldn't he? That's what he was trying to ask for all along, right? There was no doubt he'd accept. Correct? He was the one who said he liked you, he missed you, he never wanted to break up with you. He was the one who said—

"-Hmmm..." He tapped his chin thoughtfully, and once he decided on an answer, he looked you in the eyes and giddily announced, "...Maaaybe~"

...Damn that bastard's emotional sadism.

This time, he won—because you felt your heart sink.

I'm never what I like,

I'm double-sided

And I just can't hide...

I kinda like it

When I make you cry

'Cause I'm twisted up,

I'm twisted up, inside my mind.