spilled ink✔

Concrete Sea

I sat up and saw the cobalt walls we painted last summer.

I enjoyed painting with him.

We specifically decided to pick cobalt for my room, because it was our favorite color. He said it reminded him of my eyes. I just laughed and shrugged as if the comment was not worth my acknowledgement, though it did.

The artist of compliments, he was.

"A date?" He asked me with a flush of crimson in his cheeks, the color of the roses he bought for me.

"A date," I agreed.

We sat on the top of a concrete sea. Overlooking a city full of lights and traffic horns. He brought a bag of self-made caramel popcorn and we, together, watched the lemon-yellow sunset.

He was my first true-love.