62. SIXTY-TWO
SIXTY-TWO
“Can I ask you a question?” I whisper, dragging my fingers through the hair beneath Hunter’s belly button.
He successfully got one more out of me, riding me slow and steady. After, we took a shower together and he washed me, kissing and exploring the whole time. Now, we’re back in bed and I’m thinking about everything. My mind won’t stop, actually.
“Anything,” he says, his lips pressed to my temple.
“That night you got drunk, and Alex took me to the airport to get you… Do you remember anything from when we got back to your house?”
He hums in thought. “About your greyscale?”
I nod, snuggling closer. “Yeah.”
“You said we were both seeing it. Living it, as well. Stagnant and bleak.”
“It’s different now.”
“I’d hope so. You’re neither of those things.”
I let my thoughts free while I draw invisible doodles on his skin.
“I used to think the greyscale only applied to me—my bleak, unforgiving world. And then I thought it applied to us. But it doesn’t.
It’s life. Life is one giant greyscale, and we’re all living in it, hoping to glimpse a little color.
Everyone has to endure pain and hurt so they realize they’ve gotten that glimpse.
And the lucky ones, people like…us…get to see it and keep it.
We’re going to keep it, right? Our color? ”
His fingers slip under my chin, tilting my face up. “We aren’t ever letting it go.”
“Do you promise?”
“No,” he whispers. “I won’t promise that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m going to show you, sweetheart. I’m not wasting time with promises when I have the means and the will to do it.”
I smile up at him, my heart beating so strong and hard. “I like that.”
“I love you .” Wiggling to get higher up his body, I steal a quick kiss. “Where do you think you’re going?” he laughs when I try to shimmy back down. “I love you, Gray. And I love your color too.”
“Do you remember what color that is?” I nuzzle his nose with mine.
“Blue. Because it’s my favorite,” he growls before flipping us over and descending on my mouth.