Milo’s POV
Half of my songs are about winter. The other half are about every possible thing I can think of to remind me of her without actually saying her name or seeing her face. I can write about ravens, but I can’t describe them as the color of her hair. (Her real hair.) I can write about the guitar Remy calls Rose, which is the second-most beautiful color I have ever seen, but I can’t say that it’s the color of her lips.
I could write about sensations, about dreams coming true, about that feeling you get where nothing will ever compare to the moment you’re in, but I can’t admit that was how it felt to be with her.
We keep heading north. The tour is long. The thought of traveling until summer, doing this, is worse than the thought of being with Remy.
Greg is better than Rex as far
