Red was the color of her hatred for him as well as his sheer enmity for her, the phantom space in between them increasing with the cursed red of the rising sun with each passing day. By nightfall the red of their unabashed fury would transform into the red of their blazing passion, never once failing to heat the scratchy bedding in which they laid, nor scorch the flesh beneath their searing fingertips.
When he fought, red was the color of the blood that he bled for her, the red of his heart always secretly yearning that she actually cared enough to notice. The red of his personal aura, however, would never allow her to enter the red of his tarnished soul, for that would cause him to long for the red of her lips to touch his own.
Every moment that he laid awake tangled up within his web of troubles, he would constantly allow the red of his heated obsession to consume him amidst its entirety. Alas, in the end he always came to the same horrifying realization that the red of his inner fire would never allow the red of her memory to escape him…
A/N: Yay, my shortest fic ever…please tell me if you liked it:) I've never tried something so quote "poetic" before, but hopefully it's not a load of crap – Mugen and Fuu forever. :-P