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226 pages, Kindle Edition
First published March 14, 2017
You remember what my colors mean.
I remember everything you tell me,Marco.

"What colors am I supposed to be?"
"All of them,Marco....you're all of them."
Oskar sets his fingertips on the tablecloth, drawing my eye to the warm saffron-yellow checkers and reminding me for a breath-catching second that he used to be sunglow yellow. My happy, my everything. Now he's rust. Dark, burnt-orange rust. A color to throw away.


"You were my first color."

"There’s a lot of things I’m not sure about. Things I’m still trying to work through. Will work through.
But the thing I know with absolute certainty?
Oskar and me? Our story didn’t start at hate."









"I want him plunging into me. I want him on his knees sucking my brains out of my dick. I want him mounting me, knottingmy hands in his as he pumps me full of him. I want him to screw me standing up. I want him to flip me on my stomach and take me from behind. I want him fucking me until I collapse.





..."he used to be sunglow yellow. My happy, my everything.
Now he's rust."
...I do what I do best. I run away and hide.
I don't want to be salmon or burnt orange or any other cowardly color.

”Half a room away and you miss me.”
“Half a room, and I miss you.”
Oskar: Fine, I’ll be olive. Peaceful.
Me: You remember what my colors mean.
Oskar: I remember everything you tell me, Marco.
Me: Oskar . . .
“What is it?”
“I haven’t figured it all out,” I say.
“Should we stop?”
I ball a fist of his soft hoodie, keeping him close. “I don’t know what this is, Oskar, but I need you to touch me. Hold me.”
His mouth grazes mine, skates to the tip of my nose, sweeps over my cheek. He pauses at my ear. “Holding you is all I dream about.”
”You were my first color.”
Oskar smiles, soft and charmed. “I was?”
I tug him close and kiss the dent in his nose. “My happy. My everything.”
Sunglow yellow. The start of our story.


