A Touch Of Color ~

It was a nice sunny evening, and curious of a question that nagged me--though it was truly how she may answer the question--I chose to ask. I walked through the home, the familiar clicking of Merlin's paws on tiles as he walked beside me, allowing me to hold to the halter. "Olivia?" I say. The creak of the door opening, thanks to Merlin, catches my ears. I run my left hand along it, soaking in the feeling of the screen against my fingertips.

"Over here, love," Olivia's voice catches my ears. She must be sitting near the roses.

I walk over, the quick creak of the door closing, then a loud thud, followed by a slight click as the door closes fully.

"What's up?" Olivia asks.

I trace the table I stood in front of. It had grooves of carvings that I enjoyed tracing my nails over. "What do colors look like?" I ask. How could she answer this, though? Colors seem like a difficult thing to explain. A chair scratches, though Merlin doesn't stand. I can feel his collar under my right hand's palm.

"Here, I'll show you," Olivia says, taking my hand gently in hers.

I smiled softly, though I was confused. How could she?

I sit where she told me to sit and can hear the light trickling of water. We sat at the fountain. Why were we here?

"Touch the water," Olivia says, keeping her hand on mine as I lean to touch the water. The water is cold but makes my hands feel soft. I smile softly at the feeling. "That's what blue is like. It's cold, but it's gentle, too," She explains. I can hear the smile in her voice as she explains. “The sound you hear of the water trickling and splashing is blue, too. It’s calming, isn’t it, the color blue?”

I smile and nod. “It is,” I say. “What is red like?” 

We didn’t step far from the fountain, as I could still hear it from where I now stood, holding Olivia's hand. The warmth of the sun shining on my skin made me sigh.

“Red is the warmth of the sun,” Olivia explains, “But it’s also the color of passion. Good and bad passion. Love. And rage.”

I frown. “Red’s… both?” I say, frowning.

Olivia sighs. “Red’s the color of heat,” She corrects. “Feel, it’s hot, isn’t it?” 

I nod my head. It really was. The blue sound made me want to go back and feel the color again. But I wanted to know what the other colors were, and red was the feeling of warmth or anger but also of love. It made a lot of sense. “Can… Can you tell me what yellow feels like?” I ask.

Olivia smiles and holds my hand tightly. “Yellow feels like your hand in mine. The warmth of our palms and the sensation of safety,” She says. I can hear the smile in her voice once more.

I smile. “I like yellow,” I say.

Olivia laughs. “I do, too, Aurelia,” She says. “Any other colors?”

I nod. “I want to know what green is like,” I answer.

“Take your shoes off,” Olivia instructs.

I listen, pulling the shoes I wore off, then my socks. “What’re we doing?” I ask.

Olivia says, “Just walking a little,” She says.

I follow her as we walk through the grass. The grass was damp and had an obvious smell to it. 

“Green feel’s fresh,” Olivia says, “Like the way salad’s taste.”

I smile. “Do leaves feel green?” I ask.

The sound of a branch being pulled catches my ears, and I smile as something new finds its way to my hands. I trace my fingertips over the leaves, smiling. “Green’s very nice,” I admit.

Olivia giggles. “It is, yes,” She says with a smile.

“Can you show me pink?” I ask.

A second or two passes, and Olivia kisses my cheek. “That’s pink. Pink is soft, but not like blue. Pink is soft like–”

“Blankets,” I interrupts. “Pink is like a blanket on snowy nights.”

Olivia chuckles. “Precisely,” She says. “Any other colors?” 

I nod, glad to have asked these sorts of questions in the first place. “What about white?” I ask.

Olivia and I put our shoes back on, and now we stood in the kitchen. I heard the taps of Merlin’s pause once more as he followed us inside. I rest my hand on the wooden counter. 

“White is the feeling you get when you help me cook dinner,” Olivia explains, “White is happiness.”

“Are you feeling like that while you explain colors to me?” I ask.

Olivia chuckles, among the sweetest noises to be heard upon. “Yes, I do.” She says. I imagine her nodding her head. “What color would you like to feel now?”

I ponder this, thinking over the colors I was curious about. “Grey,” I answer. What was gray like.

“I can show you gray,” Olivia says, taking my hands again.

I wasn’t quite sure which part of the house we were in, with how many turns we’d taken. 

“I’m going to let go of your hand real quick, okay?” Olivia says.

I nod. The moment her hand slipped from mine, I felt my heart speed up ever so slightly. I realized how I didn’t know where I was. Where was the door? Was the wall close to me? Was the room cluttered or empty?

Olivia’s hand is back in mine before the panic can truly settle in my thoughts. “That’s gray. Not knowing or panicking, that color is gray,” She says. 

“I don’t like gray very much,” I admit.

Olivia tightens her grip on my hand. “I love you too, love,” She says. “Any other color?”

Were there any other colors? Oh! Yes, one more! “Black. What’s black like?” I ask.

Olivia chuckles. “That’s an easy one. Close your eyes,” She says.

I listen, closing my eyes. The blur of colors disappeared, and it went dark. This felt a lot like gray, but Olivia’s hand kept the gray thoughts away.

“Black is emptiness, infinite, emptiness,” She explains. “Black is the feeling you get when you don’t feel anything in front of you and don’t know how close the wall is.”

I nod my head. “Thank you,” I say, looking at where her voice was.

She gently kisses my lips, and my thoughts are flooded with pinks and reds. “C’mon,” She says. “Help me make tea.”

I smile and nod. I liked to help make tea. I smile as I follow her along, thinking white and pink thoughts.