Crimson Tears
(part seven)
He stared at one of the photos, but his attention was quickly pulled away when he heard the bathroom door open. He looked up at Ravess, now sans make-up and dressed in her lavender-colored silk pajamas—spaghetti-strap top and long pants.
She walked over to the left side of the bed and sat down next to him. She laid her head on his shoulder, looking at the photos in the open album.
One photo was of two young boys no more than ten. One had flaming red hair; the other's was a much deeper shade.
She grinned. "Is that you and—"
"Yeah," he said softly. "He was the reason I actually started to like having red hair."
"Then why did you start dying it?"
He sighed. "I didn't start dying it until three years ago when my last chroma stone died."
She lifted her head. "Chroma stone?"
"Huh?" (Natural bemused response)
She stared at him with an amused expression.
He stared back. "Oh, right."
"Are you going to start telling me your story or are you going to just stare at me with that lost look?"
"Uh, yeah, story." She laid her head back down on his shoulder as he began. "I know it sounds cliché, but it all involves a prophecy…."
xXx
This story is going in a completely different direction than I had intended. The whole prophecy thing sprung out of nowhere. My storied rarely go they way I plan them to. Maybe that's a good thing.