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“The way you can play…” Her voice was violet blue. I closed my eyes. It was my favorite color to hear.
It was hard to dislike a person when you knew they were in pain.
“What color is my voice?” Cromwell stared at me, eyes full of some kind of light I couldn’t decipher. That small, beautiful smile pulled on his lips again, and he said, “Violet blue.”
A memory from last week came to my mind. “Cromwell?” I asked, and he turned my way. “What’s your favorite? Your favorite color to see?” “Violet blue,” he said in an instant.
Something settled in my chest that I hadn’t felt in years. Something I never thought I’d find ever again. Silver. I choked at the sight. Happiness.
