Khason
“What’s your favorite colour?” I inquired, doing my best to focus on the question, and not how it felt to have her in my arms, in a room full of people. Her hand rested lightly on my shoulder, the other soft and small in mine. I tried to hold her lightly around the waist, not drag her body against mine like I ached to. I was well past tipsy, and as the room spun gently around me, I found it harder and harder to fight my instincts.
“Seriously?” she muttered, her expression lighter than I’d ever seen it. She looked…happy. Was I making her happy? Or was it the alcohol? “That’s your question?”
“Judgement of the questions is prohibited.” I replied, earning a rare giggle.
“Black.”
“That’s not a colour. And you are so predictable it hurts.”
She rolled her eyes. “Judgement of the answ
