Like the darkest and sultriest red rubies of a lover's gaze

You couldn't stop thinking of it. It was in the back of your head, as you looked as the red fruits garlanding the trees. Apples, the fruit of the lover. The dark gaze that lit up in warm shades in the bright sunlight. You were glad to leave the section of the orchard that were apple trees, when you stumbled upon the clearing.

The egg is a red so deep and dark it hides impossible depth. Underneath the translucent skin, the internal facets catch strange patterns and cast them in odd, queer patterns. It is an egg with a certainty to it. You have seen this shade before in your life. And with it, you recall your greatest regrets and choices.

Sweat drips down your forehead. Your long sleeves itch against your wrists. You hesitate. But the choice was already made. You reach forward. A dragon's mark appears on the back of your hand, three red slashes dripping blood.