His favorite color is pink. A typical person who walks past him every day would think, if they’re curious enough, that his favorite color was navy blue or some sketchy shit like that.

But no, it was pink. Baby pink, and to be exact, you could call it Azalea. He’d never admit that. He’s too manly.

—

You were sat in his room. And sure, you had took note of the pink pillows.. and the pink stickers.. and his pink chair.. basically looks like a pink fluffy unicorn threw up pretty bow pink glitter sparkles.

But you ignored that, instead laying on his bed, on your phone. Chris didn’t know you were in his room. Hell, did he ever even let anyone into his room.

He walks in and finds you laying casually on the bed that was in front of the light pink half-split wall. He narrows his eyes.

“Why are you in my room?” He asks nervously, though you didn’t seem to mind the pink— which relieved him a little.