Cigarette Daydream

You're My Favorite Color

"If we were colors, you would be me favorite." He turning into his elbow, looking directly at me.

At first, the corners of my mouth curved upwards into a laugh, but his face only had a look of happiness, but serious none the less.

"What do you mean, mon amour?"

He turned back over and pulled his arm under his head.

"I mean... you're my favorite person, so if we were colors, yours is my favorite."

"Yoire favorite color is gray."

"Yes, yours is red. Your point?"

I say in silence and let that sink in, thinking though the mess of my brain.

"You're silent."

The corners of my lips turn again.

"Just thinking of what color gray and red would make."

He laughed.

"I think it would still make red."

"Well, depending on how much to use, it could cancel out and just turn gray."

"So either way, you're my favorote color. Would I be yours?"

He looked at me, his free hand caressing my leg.

"Of course mon amour."