usual disclaimers apply

for:

Hazel, TabbyHazelEyes and RinaTui! Thank you for your reviews! :)

It was the colour of the pen she was chewing when I first met her. The was she babbled then, made me , truly feeling happy, amuse and carefree.

It was her lips when, it made me wonder would it still look that good on her if I kissed her and smudged it? Would she taste like what she looks like?

It was the colour I saw
It's her face, whenever she says something embarrassing. If you look close enough, like I do, you'll see it rise from her neck to her face. Funny how I remember the things she said, when I was so distracted.

The colour of her jacket, one time we were on a mission. I remember hugging her close to me as we swing by. Her jacket that smells of vanilla and strawberry.

It was what I saw, when I saw her getting close to Barry Allen. I knew I had to find some reason to send the boy away, and I did. And I saw it again, and again, whenever she would go and visit him. I should feel terrible, you see, but it made me a bit happy that he was in a coma. Because if he wasn't surely they will talk.

Talk, a luxury I couldn't hard is it to say something. How words pour out but the meanings are lost in translation.

The colour of her dress, when we had Italian. When I thought I could do it, I could be Oliver Queen, a former billionaire.I've never been this nervous about asking someone out before, this time it was different. This time it's her.

So we talk, well we tried to talk, but I guess she's right. We've talked about lots of thing, we know almost everything about each other.

I talked to her quite a lot actually, but there's just some things that can't be said. Like that way I feel for her.

Because, it's was the colour of the blood, the the wounds on her head and body. I saw her, lying there barely breathing, as the same colour drains her face.

It told her it was okay, that she was safe, that I was there. But in truth I wasn't, I was angry! Angry at my self at the world.

I said it before and I need to remind myself again, that because of the path I lead, I can't be with somebody I'll really care about.

So we talked, she asked of me, the only thing I could not give her. I was hurt, but discipline is something I learned. So I watched her walk away, away from me.

Things changed of course, everyone notice how indifferent she was when it comes to me, not that I blame her. I figure I'd just give her space.

She was there, but it felt like she wasn't. She was acting the same but not quite. She always reliable but there was something between us, a barrier keeping us in place.

It was about time, when Diggle started to asked questions. We both say nothing of course. What would I say? Would I tell the story of how I dated her then ended it days later?

What would she say? That she'd give up on me? That she's rather not have me than wait?

I wanted to say Diggle was wrong, that he had no idea what I am going through.

He doesn't have any idea, how hard it is to let go of something you almost had. Almost.

Do you know how hard it is to wait for something? That you know will never happen?

How you're aching much just by thinking? How hard it is to let go, when all you wanted and needed to do was hold on to her?

Sometimes you have to let go of what's killing you even if it's killing you to let go.

It was Red by the way. The colour that reminds me the thing we could have been, in the back of my mind burning red.