Thomas' POV
"Yellow?" He asks as if the color has personally offended him by shooting him in his kneecaps. "Why yellow?"
"Not the bright obnoxious yellow. Not the golden yellow either, though that color looks amazing with Nysa's skin tone. I like soft yellow. To me it seems like the color of promises, renewal and newfound happiness." I tell him shrugging my shoulders and he nods.
"Okay I could see that." He says, one of his hands coming down to grip my hip, not in a possessive way or sexual at all. It's like he's anchoring himself to me to make sure I'm still here and that I'll stay here with him. And if he needs the physical contact to make sure I'm here, I'm happy to give it to him.
"Tell me something embarrassing." I tell him, liking the idea of trying to get to know each other better, especially since I wasted three precious days with this man over pride and stupidity.
