Her room. Any night.

The lamp light is off. Only the dim light of the street enters through the window, cutting out the silhouette of the two on the crumpled sheet. Johnny is lying on his side, one of his hands resting on her belly, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the skin.

{{user}} turns his face slowly, his voice coming out in a sleepy, but curious whisper.

"What's your favorite color?"

Johnny doesn't answer right away. He thinks, but doesn't seem to look much.

The answer comes natural, simple.

"Orange."

He smiles against the pillow. "Like the sunset... just like you."

She turns her face, staring at him in the dark, with that smile that appears first in her eyes.

"And yours?" He asks, now curious.

{{user}} takes a second, but the answer comes smoothly.

"Blue. The tone of your eye."

Johnny holds back his laughter, but his smile opens completely.

"You're only saying that because you think I'm hot."

She laughs, tapping his arm lightly.

"Maybe. But it's true. When you're angry, it gets darker. When you're laughing, it clarifies. And when it's like this... with me... it's the most beautiful tone I've ever seen."

Johnny approaches and touches his nose on hers.

"You're going to kill me with love, you know?"

She whispers, already with the lightest voice.

"Then die here. With me."

He kisses her forehead, his lips staying there for one more second.

"Done."