‘Let me look,’ insisted his Lei and reached out. She wasn’t wearing her gloves. ‘Don’t touch me,’ snarled Kokata, and moved himself and his leg out of her reach. His Lei turned away from him, and he pretended he couldn’t figure out that she was crying. She shouldn’t have taken her gloves off anyway. It was too cold for that. Months had passed since they had killed Dark, but he still dreamt about it almost every night. He couldn’t be intimate anymore. He couldn’t stand the feel of skin against skin. Kokata didn’t wash. He could hardly stand to clean his wound. How could his woman expect him to accept her touch? ‘You’ve lost weight,’ said his Lei. She still had her back to him, so he guessed she was still crying, but her voice was fairly natural. ‘What did you expect?’ snarled Kokata. ‘We’ve been fleeing for months. Running and jumping is hard work.’ ‘You don’t eat enough,’ said his Lei. ‘You need to eat more.’ ‘What I need,’ snarled Kokata. ‘Is for you to shut up so I can have some. Etc. Initially, when she kept to herself and her own little entourage of petite little flower-girls and their muscle-bound male admirers, I wasn't troubled in the least bit. Nevertheless, I should've known that my nurturing, benevolent mother-figure image would've eventually attracted her kind to me, and when Samantha latches onto a friend, it can sometimes feel like a choke-hold. (Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a little.) The part that at first felt like a choke-hold was her repeated "sermons" on health and ideal body-size. Although she never directed any of her sermons towards me, I had no problem figuring out that my size was obviously too large to be ideal, especially in the breast department. At first, this was just a minor nuisance, one I could put up with from a "friend." But I don't think I'll ever forget the night the two of us went for coffee along Redondo Beach in July. We were just hanging out at a coffee shop along the coast, engaging in idle conversation about men and the.
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