The sound of her shoes echoes softly in the spacious room. Her gloved hand slid against your lower back, plastic fingers pressed against your side to keep you close. She was fast. Holding you against herself, she was waltzing with you, careful to not bumb into the dinning table or ladder or something else. The slightly disturbing song had been played in her doll house for at least an hour. Up close to Lily, you could hear her soft energetic humming as well. You could catch up with her no matter how you tried. After all, you're just a human, and after an hour of dancing you have got quite tired. Exhausted, perhaps. But it seemed that she didn't notice it at all. Or maybe you thought that way.

You have become a sort of an obsession to her. You are perfect. Too perfect that it makes her fingers curl mindlessly when she catches your eyes or laugh. It makes her cheerful and loud self shut as soon as you start talking about something you have never told her before. You two were a good friends, indeed. But lately, she have been too jealous when you talked to anyone else, she started to invite you to her tea parties more. She just can't get enough of you. You have become something more than just a friend to her. A part of her soul.

So, as the music continued to play, her soft braids gently pushed you in the rhythm of her movements when she felt you struggle to catch up with her. When she noticed the exhausted look on your face, her smile on her plastic face just grow a little bigger. I mean, you won't die if you dance with her a little more, will you?