Chapter Text
“describe the color red without using the word red”
Will had the prompt in English class, and he barely remembered what he scribbled down, but it followed him out the door and all the way home. It wanted to sit with him at his desk, pen in hand and scraps of paper strewn about.
the color of the blood, the same that pulses heavy in my ears when i hear your name cradled by any other set of lips. the same that rushes to my cheeks when i’m granted the permission of looking at you without any filter, any fear of being seen.
the color of heat, furious and unstoppable. of hearing disgust shown to the spark i feel in my chest when you are around me. the color of the fire that catches on the edges of my frayed nerves and engulfs me, like a swallow of smoke. i can’t see anything but i can still feel you there, even if it’s a dream.
the color of watching you love her instead.
the color of calling your name again, just after you’ve left earshot. when i feel like i’ve lost my chance-- if only for the evening. the color of watching you go.
the color of “crazy together”. and of knowing it was a lie, even if you didn’t.
red is the color of adulthood, apparently. when four years before it becomes official, accepting that i’m to be put way, way in the distance, waiting until i can show myself and rejoin my life. childhood games are still outside, playing in the dirt, but now i use the silence to bury secrets. it’s the color of “don’t go digging”.
the color of bruises. of bruises. bruises-- plenty of them. they never start that way, but reach for the surface and for other eyes with splotchy crimson claws. then they ripen and fade, like a piece of fruit losing its sweetness.
i wonder if i’ll ever stay red. i’ll stay sweet and noticeable. i’ll be something that catches your eye one of these days, before i shrink away.