Ava
“What's your favourite Colour?” I blurt out.
Nikolai raises a brow at me, the corner of his mouth twitches as though he's holding back a grin.
We are currently facing each other on the couch and my legs are curled under my butt. Our sushi order is spread out on the coffee table in an uneven arrangement, the boxes of rolls slightly askew, and a pair of chopsticks precariously resting on the edge of the table.
The tub of ice cream and the rest of the snacks I’d devoured during my Emilia in America marathon now sat discarded in the trash along with my hopes and dreams of James being revived for a season four.
So far, Nikolai and I have both had a turn and while I've been faithful to the rules and answered his question about my favourite colour without a moment of hesitation- it was
