Work Text:
The second colour to seep into Laura’s vision was orange.
It was the colour of the last afternoon sun, and the colour of the early morning horizons. Orange was the colour of Susan LaFontaine’s hair, softer and lighter than the red of Danny Lawrence’s long strands. Orange was the colour of Mr Hollis’s shirt. Orange was the soft warmth that filled Laura’s chest at the sight of the photograph on her shelf.
Orange became more than a colour. Instead, it began to hail the beginning of a new day. Orange became hope.
It became the hope of understanding her literature professor’s lecture, fuelled by three cups of hot chocolate and a breakfast of chocolate chip cookies. The hope of affection from Danny’s hand on her shoulder, and long fingers squeezing her shoulder. It became the hope of love from the memory of her Mother’s face from her childhood.
It was the colour of Carmilla Karnstein’s smile. It was the colour of the crinkling of her lips and the curve of her eyebrows.
Orange was the colour of hope, and affection.
The orange of the sunrise became the affectionate smile at the sight of Carmilla curled up underneath the blankets of her bed. The orange of the sunset became the heaviness of Carmilla’s eyes in the midnight hours. Orange became hope, and the possibility of maybe.
Orange grew. Orange oozed. Orange stained.
Grey slept.