Golden.

Like the fields of wheat that covered that planet.

William ran his hands through it, staring.

Nova shifted.

" What're you..." He was waking up a bit.

" You changed it," William stated simply.

" I... was afraid you only liked me because you have a type," Nova admitted drowsily. " But I want you to like me for being me, forever..."

" ... It's really pretty."

"..."

" You look like gold."

"..."

" Nova, I... love you very much."

" Sometimes I feel like... you say it too often."