#1 Red

"You know what's funny?" His voice dropped, low and slow, like a confession he never meant to make. "I have been hating Klaus for years. Years. He breathed the air that my Serah couldn't. Thought if I could just hurt him back, it'd make everything even."
Gwen's eyes shifted, "And?"
Henric's smirk faded. His hand trailed down, fingers skimming the inside of her wrist.
"And then I met you."
Her pulse spiked.
The air between them changed, something deep and unspoken twisting into something else.
Henric leaned in slightly, his breath warm against her cheek. "I was gonna steal you from him," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "Just to see the motherfucker break."
Gwen's breath hitched.
Henric's fingers slid up, tracing her jaw, tilting her face toward his.
"But then you went and ruined it, didn't you?" he murmured. "Made me actually want you."
Her lips parted, but she didn't pull away.
"I hated red dresses ever since my Serah died in that very colour. It reminded me of her... but then when you wore it and descended those steps... God!... For the first time, red didn't feel like grief. It didn't feel like loss. It felt like... YOU.
Like temptation wrapped in silk. Like something I should stay away from but couldn't. I tried to look away, Gwen. I swear I did. But you-"
He exhaled sharply, his fingers curling into fists.
"You ruined it for me. Ruined the colour, ruined my damn resolve. And now, I can't decide if I want to tear that dress off you or beg you never to wear it again."
His eyes burned into hers, raw and dark.
"Tell me, Gwen... what the hell am I supposed to do now?"