Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.

Summary: Yukari's POV

I thought you were cruel honestly.

But I also thought you were kind.

I guess I didn't know what to think.

It was difficult in those months right after you left me. You had brought me to a new frontier, dangled me into the arms of a new world. You challenged everything I knew and breathed direction into my otherwise wandering state of life.

And then you left me adrift again. Sure, you made sure I had a raft to float on and an oar to steer myself. But you never realized that while you rescued me from one life, you yourself were a destructive whirlpool, ensnaring and pulling me … into you.

I was always afraid that you didn't really love me. That when the show was over, and the lights dimmed on the runway again, you would leave.

So I drank you up, whatever slivers of you that you were willing to give. Your essence was intoxicating, heavenly and downright sexy. And when you cradled me at night, I would cry into your ear, and let all the walls within me fall.

You, however, always had a few of your defences up.

Did you love me?

I am certain you cared for me. Nothing will shake my conviction of that. The private collection you left me, your private way of ensuring my comfort and the attention you paid me when I was ill are all testament to your concern.

But did you love me?

Did you love me?

Did you ever love me as your equal?

Oh George. Sometimes I think you only saw me as your design. A blank template to work with, a plain canvas to bloom into creation. You wanted me to be strong and independent. You chastised me when I was weak, and forced me to critically reflect on my attitude and flaws. You wanted to bring out a deeper beauty within me, a true haute couture model.

Ha. I think you were almost getting paternalistic with me.

But you did care, you did. You loved but you were also unafraid to hurt me.

What a ball of confusion you are! You defied every norm; you couldn't just once act like the conventional boyfriend. You never let me read your actions, you were so cold.

And then, you were so gentle and tender when you moved inside me.

I refused the modelling show at Paris. I'm not ready to see you yet. I know you did the right thing; this was your dream and any other job would have suffocating and it would have caused a slow decay inside of you.

You did the right thing, as did I.

But one thing I've learnt after all these years, is that at the core, our reasoning was flawed.

Live your life, live for yourself. You're only partially right and partially wrong George.

You see, I'm learning an important lesson from Hiro-kun.

"You can't live your life beholden to no one."

As much as our dreams are important, you need to see George that you are also a part of a larger whole made up of Miwako, Arashi, Isabella, Kaori-san, Seiji-san and me. Paradise Kiss was not just your dream, it became ours.

I look out the rain-streaked window at the busy streets below. In the misty rain, the lights from the traffic comfortably wrap the city in a warm yellow glow. The din from the cars, a familiar hum that complements the continuous tap of the rain against my window. Inside, I have the coffee brewing and its bold aroma begins to permeate the room. The soft glow of the lamp casts dancing shadows on the walls framed with pictures of the group.

Dear George. I sometimes think you left paradise to find yourself.