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Hot pink, Sandy’s favorite color in the entire world, looked way more impressive than her natural black hair. The first time she dyed it, she did it with Emily’s help. She bought the dye in the same store she usually bought her own and did it in the sink of Sandy’s bathroom. Sandy made fun of Emily’s stained hands for the entire week, telling her she looked like she had just murdered someone. Every time she made that joke, she made sure to kiss Emily’s cheek to ask for her forgiveness right afterwards.
Red, the color of Emily’s dress, which comfortably laid on the floor of her room every other weekend. Its owner rested in bed, body bare, next to Sandy’s own nudity. Emily’s wool blanket covered both women, protecting them from the cold of the room. Emily snuggled in closer to Sandy in her sleep. The warmth of her body made her feel safer than any piece of fabric ever could.
Orange, an usually delicious fruit, tasted beyond nauseating to Emily when she tried it in ice cream. Ice cream by itself was already nightmarish to eat for Emily, and the orange flavor only made it more unappetizing and confusing. The only reason why she bought it at all during their dates was so Sandy would have two ice creams to eat instead of one.
Yellow, mango’s contribution to the dish, gave sticky rice an interesting color. It looked almost as good as it tasted. Emily was introduced to it by Sandy and ever since then she couldn’t stop making it herself at home. However, no matter how she cooked it, it would never taste as good as it tasted the first time she tried it, when Sandy gently lifted her chin and spoon-fed her from her own plate.
Green, shiny, beautiful. Emily smiled as she admired the emerald decorating her finger. The ring had been a gift from Sandy, given to her the last time she visited her. Sandy told her the way emeralds gleamed always made her think of her smile. That phrase alone was enough to make them into Emily’s favorite gemstone, and make that ring Emily’s favorite accessory.
Turquoise, cyan, cobalt, Prussian, and more. Blue jazzes in every possible shade she could think of. Emily proudly showed Sandy the result of a week’s hard work. It was her first time growing blue jazzes, she preferred tending to cacti, but she was more than satisfied with the result. Her favorite part of growing them was the excitement in Sandy’s face when she saw the flowers.
Indigo, a popping color in Emily’s pale hands. “A mermaid pendant,” she explained to Sandy that night, “it’s customary in Stardew Valley.” After hearing Emily’s explanation, the fancy dinner and her nervousness that night suddenly made sense to Sandy. Joy overtook her as she accepted the pendant, almost jumping into her fiancée’s arms to hold and kiss her. She felt so happy she didn’t even tell Emily how badly it clashed with the color of her clothes.
“Violet,” she told Emily one evening. “You can actually call me Violet. Sandy is just a pseudonym. It’s really good for business, you know?”