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“Lauma,” she says, her voice a deep emerald green, grounding and encompassing as usual. The room is quiet otherwise, save for the slight hum of the heater—a constant soft, pale yellow. “Lauma,” Nefer says again, her hand coming to rest on Lauma’s shoulder. “It’s past ten.”
Lauma slowly sits up in bed, stretching her arms over her head. “I didn’t mean to sleep so long,” she says, smiling sheepishly.
“You probably needed the rest,” Nefer shrugs, “But I figured you might like to start your day.” Emerald swirls around Lauma’s vision as Nefer speaks.
Lauma nods, sliding out from beneath the blanket and setting her feet on the cool, wooden floor. Ashru weaves around Lauma’s feet as she stands, the cat looking up at her and meowing, a firework of amber.
“He’s been fed; don’t let him trick you,” Nefer says with a knowing look cast down at Ashru.
“I think he’s just saying hello,” Lauma responds, crouching to scratch Ashru between the ears. He butts his head against Lauma’s hand.
“I wouldn’t be so certain,” Nefer laughs, “You’re around enough for him to know you’re an easy victim.”
Lauma feigns offense, pressing a hand to her chest. “An easy victim? Why, you paint Ashru as quite the menace.”
“He is,” Nefer answers frankly, then turning to the door. She casts a look over her shoulder and says, “Breakfast is ready, by the way. Just some waffles, thought they’d be good with the berries you brought yesterday.” Then she’s walking out of the bedroom, taking the emerald color of her voice with her.
Lauma takes her time getting dressed—she’s already slept in, and there’s no rush. Fridays and Saturdays usually go this way: Lauma spends the night at Nefer’s since she’s off at the clinic on most Saturdays, and they have a leisurely day in each other’s company. It’s a nice respite from the rest of her week, since Nefer keeps her place quiet—the green of her voice and the amber of Ashru’s are the colors of Lauma’s Saturdays, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.
Truth be told, Lauma appreciates the relative quiet of Nefer’s home immensely—more than she could rightly express. Between working at the clinic, volunteering at the animal shelter, and checking in on her community, colors and sounds mix and mesh to create a chaotic scene that Lauma’s had to learn to balance. Even so, it gets overwhelming at times.
Lauma exits the bedroom and pads to the kitchen, where Nefer sits at the table, fork clinking—bright red—against the plate. Lauma serves up her breakfast before she swoops down to press a kiss to the skin between Nefer’s shoulder and neck, then joining Nefer at the table. Ashru hops up only to be immediately shooed away.
They chatter about their weeks as they eat breakfast, Nefer telling Lauma about her excitable and often accident prone employee Jahoda, while Lauma tells Nefer of the children in her community that helped teach her to make paper stars.
“I could teach you, if you like,” Lauma says, “We just need some paper.”
“Mm,” Nefer says around a bite of waffle. After swallowing, she continues, “They’re supposed to be lucky, aren’t they?”
Lauma nods. “I wouldn’t expect you to believe in that sort of thing.”
“Hm,” Nefer laughs a little (the sound is a lighter green than her speaking voice, puffy and sweet in Lauma’s vision), “Well, I don’t. And Ashru would probably paw them into every corner of the house.”
Lauma chuckles at the idea. “What do you suppose we do with our day, then?”
Nefer thinks as she finishes her food, pushing her plate slightly away from her and resting her elbows on the table. “It’s been a busy week,” she says, “I’m content just staying in, relaxing.”
Lauma nods, finishing her own food and taking both plates to the kitchen sink. As she starts to wash the dishes, Nefer comes up behind her, snaking an arm around her waist. “You knock that off,” she says against the shell of Lauma’s ear. “You’re a guest.”
“You made breakfast, I’ll do the dishes,” Lauma insists, and then adds, “Isn’t that sort of transaction your forte?”
Nefer reaches around Lauma to turn off the sink regardless. “It’s been awhile now that our relationship has surpassed being… transactional.”
Lauma drops the sponge, her stubbornness thoroughly defeated as Nefer pulls her away from the sink, turning her around and wrapping both arms around her torso. Nefer presses a kiss to her cheek and hums happily, and Lauma, struck by a sudden impulse, asks, “Will you sing for me?”
Nefer blinks at her. “Sing?”
“Your voice…” Lauma says, “It’s so beautiful. Emerald green, shimmering, and so… Nefer.”
Nefer clears her throat. “I don’t sing often,” she says, and Lauma catches the hint of a blush rising up her cheeks and the tips of her ears.
Ashru, keen not to be forgotten, slips between their feet, circling their ankles. He meows, and Lauma says, “Ashru wants you to sing, too.”
“He does not,” Nefer responds with a chuckle. “He wants your attention, is what he wants.”
“Mm, I wouldn’t be so sure.”
“Well, well, well… who am I to deny the both of you…?”
Lauma smiles as Nefer adjusts their embrace to be more akin to a dance, her hands coming to rest at the curve of Lauma’s hips. Lauma places her arms on Nefer’s shoulders, hands entwining at the back of her neck.
Nefer begins to sing—it is beautiful, the swirling green that envelops Lauma’s sight—and they sway together to the implied beat. Lauma doesn’t recognize the song, though she can surmise that it comes from Nefer’s past because she sings in another language.
Lauma basks in the sound and color and Nefer’s touch, pleased beyond measure. Her life often consists of a wild mesh of colors; to be so totally surrounded with one color—Nefer’s color—is a rare and cherished experience.
When Nefer finishes the song, Lauma pulls her closer, hands coming to hold her face. She dips down to meet Nefer in a kiss, tasting syrup on her lips.
“You’re beautiful, Nefer,” Lauma says when they part, speaking the pure and plain truth on her mind. Ashru meows as if on cue. “And you are too, my dear Ashru.”
Nefer laughs, though her blush has grown a bit more prominent. Lauma tucks a stray strand of hair behind Nefer’s ear, and Nefer says, “Don’t expect me to do that every time you ask.”
Lauma giggles. “Of course, I won’t ask often. I wouldn’t abuse my power.”
“Your ‘power’?”
“I will say, you don’t have the greatest record when it comes to denying me…”
Nefer clears her throat and turns her head. “Hm. I wonder why that could be,” she deadpans.
“I love you, too,” Lauma says as she tilts Nefer’s face back and presses another kiss to her lips.
The day thereafter passes leisurely; Nefer and Lauma cuddle up on the couch, Nefer reading a book and Lauma giving Ashru all the attention he so desperately craves. And although Lauma knows she cannot bask in this feeling—in the colors of emerald and amber—forever, she cherishes these moments of peace and tucks them close to her heart.