Loving him was red

A\N: This is a songfic. This song is originally sung by Taylor Swift but is covered by Tyler Ward. It's amazing and I thought it'd make a great story for Willica. 

This is a tragic/romance genre again, I think that this genre is a good one. I hope you enjoy my second Willicia oneshot of the day, Angels.

TGWTGWTGWTGWTGWTGWTGWTGWTGWTGWTGW

Loving him is like driving a new Maserati down a dead-end street
Faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ending so suddenly
Loving him is like trying to change your mind once you're already flying through the free fall
Like the colors in autumn, so bright just before they lose it all

Losing him was blue like I'd never known
Missing him was dark grey all alone
Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you never met
But loving him was red

(Red, red)
(Red, red)
Loving him was red
(Red, red)
(Red, red)

Touching him was like realizing all you ever wanted was right there in front of you
Memorizing him was as easy as knowing all the words to your old favorite song
Fighting with him was like trying to solve a crossword and realizing there's no right answer
Regretting him was like wishing you never found out that love could be that strong

Losing him was blue like I'd never known
Missing him was dark grey all alone (whoa)
Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you never met
But loving him was red
(Red, red)
Oh, red
(Red, red)
Burning red
(Red, red)
(Red, red)

Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes
Tell myself it's time now, gotta let go
But moving on from him is impossible
When I still see it all in my head
In burning red
Burning, it was red

Oh, losing him was blue like I'd never known
Missing him was dark grey all alone (whoa)
Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you never met
'Cause loving him was red
(Red, red)
Yeah, yeah, red
(Red, red)
We're burning red
(Red, red)
(Red, red)

And that's why he's spinnin' 'round in my head
(Red, red)
Comes back to me, burning red
(Red, red)
(Red, red)
Yeah, yeah
(Red, red)

His love was like driving a new Maserati down a dead-end street

TGWTGWTGWTGWTGWTGWTGWTGWTGWTGWTGW

She decided that red was her colour, simply because he loved her in it. She wore the colour often, loving how his eyes took her in when was in it, how he stopped mid sentence to stare at her as she walked by. It was fun to wear red when they had their affair, she wore red just to see his eyes glaze over in hunger for her.

She wore all shades of red: the lightest of red it was almost pink, and darkest of red it looked like she was covered in blood. But it wasn't just outfits in her life that were red, she wore red lipstick and drank red wine

After he died and she saw his blood smeared over the court room floor, she hasn't been able to wear the colour without coming apart. Now when she sees a red dress hanging in her closet, she thinks of how he looked at her, when she has a glass of wine, all she sees is his blood pouring out of the bottle and entering her glass, when she tastes the liquid, she tastes his blood filling her mouth, so much blood. She can't wear red lipstick without seeing his blood coating her lips.

She doesn't think she'll be able to look at anything red without remembering him, after all it was him who brought red back into her life. It was him who told her to wear whatever colour she wanted. It was him who told her, encouraged her really, to wear red again. It was him who bought her a new pair of red heels to wear. It was him who kept a tube of her red lipstick in his office.

It was him who brought colour back into her life.

Wearing red was easy, fun, something she put on automatically, then.

Wearing red is hard, miserable, a chore, an un-doable chore, now.

Wearing, drinking and seeing red is like she's covered in his blood, like his blood is staining her.

Wearing red reminds her of loving him.

Loving him was as easy as wearing a red dress, or skirt or a blazer, putting on red lipstick, drinking a glass of red wine.

While wearing red is no longer an option for her, loving him has and always been a choice, a choice she doesn't have to think about, something can easily do. Maybe someday, one day, she can wear a red dress, put on red lipstick, drink a glass of red wine, for him. 

Because red was her colour, because it will be her colour again, with time, because he loved her in it, because he brought red back into her life.

TGWTGWTGWTGWTGWTGWTGWTGWTGWTGWTGW

A/N: My second Willicia oneshot of the day. I hope you Angels have a great day and have enjoyed this Willicia story.