white

Tom always associated memories with colors. His first kiss was red, heated. His first time was gray. Not that exciting.

The morning of New Year’s Day, 2004, would forever be white in his memory.

Waking up in the posh hotel bed, feeling the warmth of Mike’s body pressed against his, made his mind’s eye flash brightly, his elation nearly blinding him.

The stark white sheet rested lightly on Mike’s hip, illuminating the smoothness of his skin, the curve of his chest and shoulders.

Tom saw an angel, unblemished and pure.

Mike opened his eyes, smiled, and Tom kissed his angel.

~end