You allow yourself a moment.
Sanguine is sappy and happiness is so very fickle. Even now with ones you love and your hearts belonging you feel that nag. That tinge of melancholy. You almost washed it down in a bottle and neglect but remembered September and that trying to forget begets nothing. You allow yourself a moment to be somber on the deck while that familiar grey and sully cloud thunders over you. The air is mint and smarts with cold, and as you breathe out you expected to find yourself the same color as your mourning. But you were not. You see Caroline give you the finger from the window and Jacob makes the motion of a shakeweight. And then the music rises and fills you with warmth, you return to the merry as a friend and not a stranger.