Red

It was a hell of a night. That kind of time you call the best ever, even though you know that's not true. When you live wild and free, from party to party, drunken on thrills, it's an exaggeration to say you are living the best time every time. But then again, when you live wild and free there's only the moment and you don't care what happens next. Better be sure you are having a good time.

He was lying on his stomach and his head started popping in synchrony with the buzz. The cell phone was receiving a call. He knew that because he never defined a waking-up alarm for himself, usually sleeping well into the afternoon, favoring very late brunches.

With a stretch of his arm, he got the device and automatically turned on his back.

"Are you alive?" the low and mischievous voice of his friend Treize wasn't offensive to his ears and hangover.

Grumbling an affirmative sound, he added:

"I guess."

"Good." there was a smile on his voice. "I have to admit that this time I wondered if you would make home..."

Zechs repeated the murmur, his mind cloudy and his head heavy. He hadn't opened his eyes yet.

"What time is it?"

"Two o'clock."

"I talk to you later."

They both ended the call and Zechs prepared to start his full waking-up process. He didn't need to worry about lighting discomfort for the blackout curtains were always closed. When he opened his eyelids, the soft shadow of a night preserved caressed his eyes and offered a smooth transition from the sleepy, groggy state of his brain to a slight alert.

Using his phone, he turned on and regulated the lamps on his bedroom to a dreamy dim glow before getting out the bed and going to the bathroom.

He got the hair out of his face and steadied himself a little on the sink before opening the tap and washing the sleep and confusion away. It took just a few seconds for him to realize that the shirt he was wearing wasn't as white as it was when dressed the night before.

Turning the lamps on their full brightness, he looked over the clothing decorated with lipstick stains from a rich and hot red color. There were kisses printed all over the front, some playfully smeared, some carefully stamped, some surpassing the fabric and touching his collar bone.

They were too many for not being remembered. Even though, the marks felt completely strange.

With a swift movement, he pulled off the shirt, not bothering to open the buttons and found a message written on the back, so red it made him think of blood:

"Call me."


Good afternoon!

This is my very first work in English and I hope to count with your tolerance for all the mistakes and inappropriatenesses I'm sure to make along this story.

For the special event dedicated do Zechs on Tumblr, #oursummerofzechs, I decided to write a short fic with short chapters using the color theme suggested by the mods.

It's not being very easy to develop and write, but I felt I needed to take part in this event since Zechs needs more attention and our fandom needs more movement!

It'd be incredible to receive feedback from all of you!

See you Saturday with the next chapter!

XOXO

June First