You get the drill, i don't own the sandbox, just sneak in after dark and play in it.
She always wore the brightest shades of lipstick. So bright the amazing contrast between the colours and her skin shone for all to see. When she ate, when she slept, when she bathed and when she cried, those bright colours were always visible.
When they first kissed, he'd walked away with a huge Cheshire cat grin and smeared magenta covering his lips and jaw.
On their first date Violet tainted the rim of her glass (soda, because she was still too young to drink. He felt like a dirty pervert at that thought, but she was much, much more mature then even he was).
The day they professed their love, Gold shimmered, coating her lips in a heavenly radiance.
The first time they made love, Vivid red shimmered on his clavicle, his arms, his chest, his neck, his lips, memoirs of the way she worshiped his body as he did hers.
When he promised, promised they would be together forever, Melded at the soul he'd said, a deep shimmering blue reflected their inner tranquillity. Sitting by the ocean side at dusk, he revelled in the peppermint taste.
The day she brought her cousin to La Push, her smile stretched so wide, an energetic, vibrant yellow, which fell when she noticed Him staring, dumbstruck.
The day he broke her was the day it stopped. Forest green would forever remind him of his sin. He would gladly slave; sell his soul a million times over for a chance at repentance. Forest green haunted him.
She never wore any kind of makeup anymore. Her lips dry and rough, a natural, dusky rose that he knew did not suit his Leah.
She wasn't his anymore.