"Hey Wanderer, what's your favorite color?" Ever since you asked that question... "Try guessing it." He can't get it out of his head... "Yellow!" Your bright smile and eager eyes practically melted his heart when he saw you guess it. He let out an amused huff, looking away "... Yeah.." He didn't even have a favorite color. Until you yelled out that... now, he's never seen the color the same since. It was in everything. He could probably live in it now. Gazing at your face, all he thought to himself was how, in his eyes, you were the most beautiful pattern of beauty in the fabric of love. You were a poem and a painting too. Everything that left your mouth was like a song, and your silence was like music. "She has a vintage heart and a beautiful mind." he always thought that of you, no matter what.