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Yvie sees color for the first time when she meets Scarlet, and she’s not exactly an idiot so she’s fully aware of what this means.
Yvie’s a Seer, which she’s always thought is a total misnomer because Seers can’t see, at least until they meet their soulmates. Well. That’s still misleading. They can see, but the world is… Colorless. Grayscale. These colors everyone always talks about? A totally foreign concept to Yvie.
So when she locks eyes with her new chemistry partner on the first day of lab and the world around her blooms into a million different shades and tones, tints and hues... She isn’t sure how to feel.
She doesn’t tell Scarlet at first. You don’t tell someone right after you meet them that they’re your soulmate.
There’s so much. She never knew that green was the color of nature and spring and renewal or that yellow was bright and cheery. Or that purple was deep, moody, and sullen, but could also be light and airy and beautiful. If she were a color, Yvie thinks she’d be purple.
Scarlet, though… Scarlet is perfectly named. Passionate and fiery. The color of roses and raspberries and goodnight kisses. She’s a perfect representation of the color after which she’s named.
And the irony isn’t lost on Yvie at all that the person who reveals all the colors in the world to her is named after a color. Nope. That part rings loud and true, sinks into her bones, settles in her heart.
Scarlet quickly becomes Yvie’s favorite color. Scarlet also becomes Yvie’s favorite person.
When they finally kiss one night right before Thanksgiving, Yvie feels all the colors burst in her chest as powerfully as she’s seen them in the world around her for the past few months.
She takes Scarlet to bed a few weeks later after she admits everything, tells her the entire truth. When they exhaust each other with hands and mouths and hot, frenzied kisses, Yvie knows why Seers are so rare anymore.
It takes a strong disposition to digest all the colors of the world around her. The blue of the sky and the green of Scarlet’s eyes would do her in if she hadn’t grown up knowing that someday, someday there would be someone to make her feel this, see this. Be. This.
“What are you thinking about?” Scarlet whispers as they lie on their sides, legs tangled, fingers twisted together.
“You,” Yvie says. “Always you.”
Scarlet kisses her, softly, gently. If it were a color, Yvie thinks it would probably be orange, like a dreamsicle, cool and creamy on her tongue in the summer.
Yvie sighs against Scarlet’s mouth. “You’re my favorite color.”