That word’s been wrapped around my ankles and crawling across my back, weighing down my shoulders like I’m some sort of Atlas.
Cute pink goddesses and blue gentlemen aren’t going to change grey to
Swathes of Pink and Blue in this Underworld.
No tune or webtoon to unfurl.
The clutching bullheadedness fighting sleep.
Sleep not Really.
Underworld. Huh. More vampire references. I’ll make a note since I didn’t considerate it under Red.
<Bryce on the stairs. Facing portraits that leer. Peering past frames. His sleep guided feet still petrified. Pushing backwards to retrace steps, eyes forward. Red is in the way. Red forward (safety), back Grey.
I should have considered that thinking of Bryce would unearth something. He is Grey, his eyes are grey, his hypervisioned world is grey, and is painted Red and every dark shade by Raphael, Amy and James.
Friends who aren’t fiends but who seem to find all sorta iffy things.
Fishing where they shouldn’t.What lead me here:
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