You think I do not see you? I have always seen you. You have always been in vivid color for me. Glittering sapphire on the first night you found me. Emeralds and golds and silvers and red—Christ, that red. I am obsessed with that red. The red of the afternoon you came here. The red at Liverpool’s garden party, when you stood like a goddamn queen and watched me ruin us like a goddamn fool.” He stopped, cursing into the wind as he tilted his head back with the memory.
