She's golden and bright and too much.
She's everywhere, and he doesn't know how to deal with that.
He made his choice.
He had decided to move on.
But she's still there.
She's still everywhere.
They didn't match together.
He was cool and calm and collected, more nice than cruel with a lot of charm and puppy cuteness that was so adorable it made it possible to overlook the fact that he was a little bit of an idiot sometimes.
She was vivacious and bright and affectionately kind to those that she considered equals and mercilessly vicious to those she considered beneath her.
She was all shimmering gold hair and dancing gold eyes and tanned gold skin. She was a red and white Cheerios uniform and a preacher's daughter that rebelled in the worst possible way.
He was all dark brunette hair and guileless chocolate eyes and pale, cool skin. He was a striped shirt and a reluctant savior, a knight with much too heavy armor.
She seemed so warm.
But that wasn't the truth.
It was deceptive, this warmth that she gave off.
All her gold brought you in, closer and closer until all of a sudden you were consumed.
Blinding gold fire took over all of you until you weren't sure what you thought or what you felt and everything was so full of confusion and pain and regret but none of that even mattered because she was all that mattered and she was paying attention to you.
There was nothing but her.
She kept you there, in her world, because she was sure that you were necessary.
And then, the illusion broke.
She stopped lying about Drizzle when he confronted her after Rachel told him the truth, and honestly he hated her more for taking away the possibility of forever with her than for lying about whether or not he was the true father.
She let it shatter and he hopes it's because she knew it was wrong, but he fears it was because she didn't think he was good enough for forever.
The fire slowly cooled, the gold dulling gradually until it didn't even shimmer anymore.
And all of a sudden he could see colors again.
Not everything was gold anymore.
And that was that.
He saw past all of her bright, blinding gold.
His first instinct was to yell, rage and find some release for the build-up of anger.
But he didn't.
Because he couldn't decide if he liked what had happened.
This was supposed to be better.
He was supposed to like to see all the colors again.
And yet, things never turn out how they're supposed to.
But that was the problem.
Without her shimmering golden veil, there were the good colors, dazzling silver and vivid indigo and brilliant emerald. He saw pastels and thought of Rachel, of how she supported him even when he shoved it in her face. He saw red and thought of Don't Stop Believing and hope.
But there were bad colors too, dull gray and deep black and muddy russet. He saw white and remembered the shirt Quinn was wearing when she said she was pregnant, the panic and confusion taking over. He saw dark brown and thought of Puck and football and heartbreak and betrayal.
And he couldn't decide which was better.
To see everything in one shade of bright, bright gold or to see all the colors and all the shades, but having to try to balance the bad with the good.
It took him two months to decide.
But in the end, it wasn't even really his decision.
She called him first, because she needed him again, apologies and tears and nostalgia about the good ol' days making up the majority of the conversation.
And he was lost.
Hidden again behind all her brilliance and back to seeing everything in only one shade of color, in only one shade of gold.
He didn't feel hope when he saw red or pain when he saw white.
He didn't feel comfort when he saw pastels or grief when he was brown.
She took over everything, her and her gold.
And really, all that that meant was that he lost everything.