and the day came,
when the risk it took
to remain tight in the bud
was more painful
than the risk it took
to blossom.
~Anais Nin
***
"Favorite color?"
Atlas thinks before answering, "Black."
I shake my head, "Black isn't a color."
"Yes it is."
"No it's not."
"You paint using black all the time, and you're telling me it's not a color?"
I shake with laughter as he smiles back at me. "Favorite color. Go."
I stare into his dark blue eyes as I answer, "white."
He throws his head back and laughs. "How perfect."
We are laying in bed. It's the weekend. Our days off. Our day of rest from the pack. So we chose to retreat into the confines of the covers upon these days. In all reality, it was easy to go to sleep within Atlas's arms. Easy to find comfort within his scent. In the
