"Maybe we can meet for drinks when we're fifty, maybe-"
"How selfish can you be?"
"Troye,-"
"Don't act like this 'in the future' bullshit is some parting gift, you're dying."
"But if you just think of it as a brief separation-"
"Yeah, and the sky is green," Troye paused for a moment, red eyed and flustered and just hurt, "If you walk out that door, you'll be six feet under the next time I see you."
And then he watched her leave.
YOU ARE READING
C O L O R S
Short Story"You're always so angry. You don't just bleed red, Cameron, you are red." eleven teenagers | eleven encounters | eleven colors :: an attempt at the 50 word challenge // all based on real life happenings ::
