many mornings that came up with you both tangled up around his sheets that were usually stained with red wine from the day before; laughing with your feet on his lap, like you are his closest friend; cause you are. how'd we end up on the floor, anyway? you questioned yourself many times. everyday.

and you choose him, the one you were able to see some vulnerability and honestly under all that bravado and tough guy vessel, the one you stupidily danced with on his living room; no shoes; the dark.

how the blood rushed into your cheeks as you laughed any time he said some stupid joke, the mark he saw on your collar bone, or even the burgundy or your skirt that he would never admit but he loved.

but the silence came.

and there you are, shaking blind and hazzy. how the hell did you lose sight of this when what you used to have all that?

salling with his hands on his head; ain't that the way shit always ends?

you was standing hollow-eyed in the hallway of his expensive mansion, thinking of how much you could have had;

but now you wake up with his memory over you, that's a real fucking legacy to live.

its maroon.