red, adj.
definition: of a color at the end of the spectrum next to orange and opposite violet, as of blood, fire, or rubies.
rating: T
A/N: This is a companion story to Blue. Not necessarily a two-shot, but could be. ;) Thank you so much amy. d. fuller. 9 (without the spaces; sorry, FanFic still thinks you're a website Dx) for reviewing Blue!
He dreamed of red. Pulsing, gushing, torturous red.
It oozed at an agonizing rate from her motionless body, drawing her last rattling breath closer with ever drip. The slower it ebbed, the more quickly did her life.
He dreamed of red that had an iron fist, which squeezed maliciously, capturing her final precious heartbeats. It opened its gaping maw and swallowed her whole, coating her with its own sickening shade. It trickled in a waterfall from her open mouth, bloomed in a nebula above her eye, drenched her hands, pooled at her stomach, dyed her collarbone, and dripped from her ledger. It was everywhere – she was held prisoner by its monstrous hue, and he could not free her. It was a poison, seeping slowly through her veins, starving her.
At last, it claimed her; its bloody victory cry her final soft sigh.
And he dreamed of red that was a raging demon, ripping through his insides, accusing and screaming in his head that he could have saved her.
He dreamed of red like a volcano, erupting in his very soul, making raw his deepest emotions until he cried out in pain, in a language that words could not express.
But as even good things came to an end, it was irrational to imagine that bad things never did.
He awoke, and she was there leaning over him, her flaming hair cascading down the sides of her lovely face, curtained over one eye. He groaned with relief, drinking in her image with starving eyes.
And suddenly, red wasn't evil anymore. It was the lips that grazed his own; it ignited desire through his veins; it was beauty, love, passion.
And it was her hair, that when he awoke in the morning, spilled across him, her head resting peacefully on his chest.