Red, red wine. 

With a sigh he leaned back, staring into the glass, mesmerised by the soft flicker of the fire as it brought the colours to life within it. Deep claret, like blood—the blood that to this day stained his hands and his soul. Fiery scarlet blazing fiercely as it caught the light, its bright flash of colour reminiscent of the garish shirts that Ethan always favoured. Crimson, plum, flashes of burnt umber and even the occasional gleam of pure, blinding white.  How could something that was meant to deaden the feelings that roiled within him be so filled with vivacity? Draining the traitorous fluid in one swallow Giles' head fell back against the couch, his eyes closing as he willed away the ghosts of his past, above all the softly smiling face and deep warm eyes filled with love and trust.