Work Text:
Blue is such a lovely color.
She stares upward, back to the ground, course grass poking into her spine, shoulders, neck. Facing the sky and trying to think of something blue that isn't lovely.
She stares. The sky, that was blue. Brilliant, endless blue so vast that even when the sun went down, and all the colors faded into their deepest tints, there was still a hint of blue in all the darkness.
Water. That was blue right? No, wasn't water only blue because the sky was blue?
Water could kill you, but it also sustained every living thing on the planet.
Without water there would be no grass, and without grass there'd be nothing for herbivores to eat so that carnivores could eat them so that humans could consume them all. Without water there would be nothing. So she assumes she could say water is lovely, just as long as you respected it; didn't abuse it.
Taking her gaze off the sky, she turns and rests her cheek on the ground within the spongy grass, trying to get her mind back on track.
Her cheek will itch, but that hardly matters.
She stares. There lays the point, the source of her pondering.
A girl.
If you asked anyone else, they'd say the girl was Red.
Burgundy, the color she wore on her knuckles, caked and dried. Crimson, the color that dripped down her nose, was laced between her teeth, and splashed the walls behind every path she took. Fuchsia, the color that clung to her skull, hung in her face, natural and surreal in its defiance.
But if you were ever allowed to come close enough, without the fear of being tainted in the Red, you'd see the color of her soul.
Icey blue, like the chilly Winter mornings she used to run in her childhood. Exploring In-between pines piled with bitterly cold snow. Where the air was so crisp, and clear... to breathe it in was like injecting a dose of adrenaline into your lungs. Where she could run, and play, and laugh, and shout and no one would stop her because, there, within the cold quiet forest, she was free do to whatever she wanted.
To her blue is the color of relief. The color of peace. Cools her off, calms her down. She thinks it may just be her favorite color.
The girl in question is staring right back at her. She too, is cushioned in the grass. There's a smile on her face, a joyful thing (something no one else seems to think the girl could be.) It sends crinkles forming around her frosty eyes.
Caitlyn asks, "Why are you smiling?" And Vi says, softening "Because your eyes are pretty."
A pause.
Caitlyn asks, (Because Caitlyn can't remember, hasn't seen a clear reflection of herself since the age of a toddler, she thinks) "What color are they?"
"Blue."