Red looks good on Aoi. Not just red, though, like bricks or candy apples – red like blood, like liquid silk, that type of red that looks like good, rich wine spilling across his skin. This is what Kai thinks when he sits against Aoi’s headboard and watches him standing at the window, smoke spilling from between parted lips and the red silk sheets held loose around his waist. Red is a good color for him. He’s dark, and the romance suits him.