Work Text:
He never used to dream in color.
His dreams were always black and white, like looking back at old photographs. Not that he dreamt much anyways.
Then he started dreaming in pinks. The scenes before him were drenched in the same shade, like looking through rose colored glasses.
Then there was a period of roughness and separation where his dreams were dark, shades of blue and grays. He hoped those would fade.
And now, his dreams were neon, fully saturated. He saw all the colors, but his dreams were still mostly pink, but he didn’t mind. He loved that color.