Chapter Text
“Simple things like a song or smell can be a trigger”
-Selina Bonser
“So this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I don’t know how that could be”
-Stephen Chbosky
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If someone had told Amity a while ago that a person could get over emotional over nothing; she wouldn’t have believed them.
However now,
She stared at the woman sitting across from her. Crying and bawling her eyes out. Out of absolute nowhere when a few minutes ago, Amity was sure they’d been getting along. Mindlessly chattering away as their hands got dirty, covered in clay- trying to finish sculpting their assignment.
The Blight had noticed the brunette sitting alone at the back of the room at the beginning of the statue making masterclass and thought that it was probably a good idea to befriend her.
But now? Said brunette was sniffling and wiping her eyes. Paintbrush with the faint of yellow on its tip-ready to get their statue painted- clutched tightly, wavering slightly as the woman’s hands got shaky.
Was it something she said? Did she do something wrong? Looks like Amity really needed to get her social life checked.
The statue in between them both laid forgotten.
" ‘m sorry," the Latina sniffed out. "It’s just the colour." Amity raised an eyebrow at that comment.
The woman in front of her smiled weakly; "Yellow makes me cry."
‘Okay,’ Amity thought to herself. ‘Something is definitely going on with her.’
Although she’d usually give half-baked comfort words, strangely, Amity felt the dire need to comfort the sobbing woman in front of her. What’s wrong with her?
However, against her better judgement, Amity snorted.
She froze. Stupefied.
‘What the fuck, Amity’ she thought to herself. A crying, sobbing stranger tells you she cries over the colour yellow and you fucking snorted?!
Amity winced when she saw the woman’s expression morphed into hurt.
‘If you keep focusing on work your social life will be a wreck!’
Yeah- clearly Amity should've listened to Emira more.
The brunette let out a sad sigh, hiccuping slightly, tears now slowly coming to a stop. Her hands began to reach over to the yellow paint that was left abandoned and resumed painting the sculpture the two made a while ago.
Amity watched.
She watched how the stranger kept on needing to take deep staggering breaths every time she dipped the brush into the yellow paint.
She watched as her hands got shakier and shakier with every yellow brushstroke.
She watched as tears silently dripped down her tinged red plump cheeks.
She watched as her bangs moved about at every hitched breath and hiccups.
She watched as the woman’s lips quivered and whimpered at every sight of yellow.
She noticed how her heart clenched at that pitiful whimper.
She watched.
Amity doesn’t understand how a colour could possibly hurt so much.
Huffing out a breath. The stranger’s bloodshot eyes darted over to her.
“I apologise,” Amity began. “I didn’t mean to offend you by laughing. I just-”
The brunette cocked her head slightly sideways, curious.
“Isn’t yellow supposed to be a happy colour?” Amity inquired.
The stranger’s eyes widened. Blinking owlishly. Taken aback at the sudden question.
Until. She giggled.
She fucking giggled. Amity noted. The Blight’s stomach felt queasy. Her palms clenched, sweaty. Amity let out a soft gasp at the sudden warm, fluttering feeling shot inside. Goosebumps.
What’s wrong with her today?
“If you’re Van Gogh maybe,” she smiled and Amity swore that she could physically feel herself melting, eyes softening.
“Ah. So I take it you’re not Van Gogh then?” Amity teased. “With painting skills like that, I must’ve mistaken. Kinda hard to guess.”
A sudden quirk upwards to the stranger’s lips. A short laugh escaped, making Amity’s cheeks flushed. ‘ Titan, this is what happens when you lack social skills.’
“Nahhh, though I appreciate the compliment. I’m just lil ole’ Luz.”
Luz. ‘That’s a pretty name.’ It rolls off her tongue easily.
“Just Luz?” She tested the waters.
The woman hummed questioningly before nodding her head slightly.
“Yup,” she popped she ‘p’. “Just Luz.”
A pause.
“Unless,” a sly grin. “You let me take your last name.”
Her heart dropped. Stomach feels more queasy than ever. Heart clenching. Amity felt warmth shot up to her face. Ears reddening slightly. Mouth agape, breath taken away.
‘ Oh wow.’ That was smooth, she admitted. Amity must give her that.
The just-now-suave stranger must’ve taken the Blight’s silence wrongly because before Amity knew it, she quickly backed up.
“Sorry, sorry. I just ever know how to shut up sometimes.” She smiled hesitantly.
Amity felt her heart break at her hesitance.
“No! No- no.” She cleared her throat, wincing at how her voice cracked earlier.
“It’s seriously fine.” She quickly said.
A beat of silence.
The two girls shuffled awkwardly in their seats. Mindless chatters of other participants of the workshop around them began filling up their silence.
“So, uhhh…” Amity glanced up. Curious on what the stranger had to say.
“You already know my name,” she slowly began. “Isn’t it only fair for me to have yours?”
Amity perked up. Eyes brightened once again. Both glad and somewhat relieved that she hasn’t scared the stranger away. ‘Yet,’ she reminded herself. ‘ With social skills nonexistent like yours, it’s only a matter of time.’
“Right! Right.. umm.. it’s Amity. Just Amity. Yeah-” she pursed her lips awkwardly. Body tensed.
‘What the fuck is wrong with you?!’ She scolded herself inwardly.
“Just Amity?,” the stranger parroted. A teasing smile present making Amity huff out a laugh.
“Uhh yeah obviously,” Amity deadpanned. “Unless you can give me yours?”
The stranger snorted before throwing her head back. Bursting into a loud genuine laugh.
Her laugh was contagious. Amity couldn’t help herself but to laugh along.
Statue and paintbrushes laid forgotten as both women gazed into each other’s eyes.
Teary yet gleeful brown stared into cheery yet teasing gold.
Paint splattered teardrops left to dry on their work table. A sign of a new blossoming friendship and maybe even more.