Chromatic Bloom

The city hummed its usual low frequency, a heartbeat against the glass. He found me like this—a chromatic anomaly in the otherwise perfect black canvas of his apartment. Sunlight, a reluctant guest, sliced through the blinds, highlighting dust motes dancing around us. It painted my skin in stripes of warmth, a fleeting architecture of light and shadow.
He hadn’ the need to speak, just watched me breathe. The red on my lips felt heavier than usual—a defiant bloom against the monochrome. They're building something new here, he always said, watching cities grow like slow orchids.
I think I was his little experiment, a perfect imperfection to watch unfold in time. The scent of him – sandalwood and rain - lingered as he turned away to the window; one long look before the light shifted again. A feeling of warmth stayed with me after he left—the color of something coming.

Editor: The Trendsetter