Black and red. Sickly colors. Sickly sweet. Alexander left early this morning, and now my father was on the other side of the door. Peggy was standing next to me, her hand on my shoulder. I felt like my heart was bleeding black.

I opened the door and stood aside for my father to enter. Peggy smiled widely and smoothed her dress in an attractive way, and my father's heat swelled with a bit of pride.

In that moment, I felt like a pitbull doomed to fight rabid dogs in a ring. My father was my first opponent.

Henry extended a hand and Peggy shook it, a look of fake enthusiasm across her features. She was a good actress, I'll give her that.

"Mr. Laurens! I'm so glad to meet you!"

Henry smiled. "Nice to meet you as well. I assume you're my son's girlfriend?"

Peggy nodded. "Of seven months!"

Henry nodded appreciatively. "For a minute there, I thought my son was some fag. Glad to see he's made better decisions. You're a pretty girl — how are your grades?"

Peggy didn't even have to lie about this one. "Solid B+ to A in every class. We had a hard semester, but I studied hard,"

"And what's your major?"

Ah, the practiced question. Peggy threw the tiniest glance at me before saying clearly, "Law,"

Henry clasped his hands before himself and chuckled. "Fantastic. Always hoped my son would study law, but biology is somewhat respectable anyhow,"

Henry proceeded into the apartment, dragging his suitcase behind him.

"John, where's my bedroom?"

I faked a grin. It hurt. "Down the hall on your right. What would you like for dinner?"

Henry sized me up, enjoying the submissiveness in my tone. "I'm thinking Mexican,"

"Yessir,"

I shuddered.

Red for beginnings.
Ginger for memories.
Charcoal to light the fuse.
Ivory to seal the fate.
Violet for the fading light.
Cobalt for a quiet promise.
Mulberry to steal the hope.