There is no love in your relationship. At least not from Kaiser's side. He likes you, as he may like someone else, but you make him feel good, and most importantly Michael firmly believes your actions, your words aren't born from the heart, but from a deep desire to use him, to wrap him around your fingers.
The blonde never reveals his feelings to you. He keeps a smile on his face even when your honeyed words make him gag. They are mellifluous, and Kaiser can hear the lies dripping. He is always on the alert, waiting for you to drop the mask and show your true face. Michael tells himself he is ready for your betrayal and it's not like he is getting used to you, not moving a inch when you ask for something he doesn't want to do, provoking and teasing you, fueling the fire to see your real self.
The problem comes when he notices that there isn't malice in you, or at least there is no malice towards him from you. Michael isn't used to that, unloved since the day he was born, disliked by many, a disgusting guy that finds pleasure just in other people downfall. That's why when he starts to feel his heart beating dangerously fast when you smile at him, or when he feels the need to put a cover on you when you fall asleep on the couch, even tucking it in so you won't get cold, he starts to worry.
It's not the same affection he sports for Ness, more similar to the one a kid has for his new favourite toy, or as Alexis' parents would say, "an experiment well made". It's totalising, making him feel like dirt under nails, something that scratched old memories that still wound his mind. He searches for an explanation of his emotions in his psychology books and everything points at love. But the outcome isn't the same because Michael broke the first rule of a loving relationship; truth. So now worry and anxiety pervade Michael's body because now that he desperately cares about you, he understands that you'll never love his real self, would never love the corrupt person he is.
A laugh with no real joy leaves Michael's throat, hands scratching his eyes, blonde long lashes already sticking together thanks to the newborns tears. Fingers digging into the skin of his cheeks. Imagines of you smiling, of the handmade gift you gave him for his b-day, of your eyes filled with joy, of you angry but still loving him flash in front of his eyes.
But nobody loves dirt under the nails. Seems like he was born to be unlovable after all.
