Green heart, because North Carolina runs on pine trees, humidity you can chew, and the kind of lush that makes your allergies file a restraining order every March. This state is one giant salad of mountains, marsh grass, and tobacco fields, and you love every pollen covered inch of it.
It also means you're a little jealous of nobody, because you've got beaches on one end, ridgelines on the other, and a barbecue argument in the middle that has ruined more family cookouts than any divorce. Vinegar or tomato, pick a lane and die on that hill. Then wash it down with tea so sweet it should require a dental waiver, and go watch basketball in March like it's a religious obligation, because it is.
Cut from soft, broken in fabric that feels like it already survived three humid summers and a surprise hurricane week. Holds its shape, holds its color, and holds up to whatever you spill on it during overtime.
