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It had been three months since Caitlyn had moved into her new apartment, and she found that she was settling in nicely. It was a quiet neighborhood that still managed to have all the necessities and essentials within close reach. The community was friendly and, despite Caitlyn’s reserved nature, they always made her feel welcome during her limited interactions with them. There was a bakery next door that made the most irresistible cupcakes, and even a shooting range a short walk away where Caitlyn could spend the weekends maintaining her sharp aim.
It’s a breezy Saturday morning that seems to wave its greeting with the billowing of lilac curtains. Caitlyn stirs a cup of coffee at her dining table, a rustic design with edges that aren’t perfectly straight, made of purpleheart wood. A tablerunner in an eggplant hue adorns the center, where a dish of grapes sits. As the hues of milk and roasted beans combine in a marbled swirl, the soft beams of early sunlight illuminate the amethyst point at the helm of a spoon that Caitlyn was enraptured to find at a nearby antique shop. When she sets down her mug, a shiny ceramic of a deep mulberry shade, it dawns on her…
Everything in Caitlyn’s apartment is the color violet.
The realization feels a little bit silly to her. Hell— even her nightgown and bedroom slippers are a matching lavender set! Caitlyn knew that the intermingling of red and blue was her favorite sight for as long as she could remember… But this? This was a little comical.
But everyone has a favorite color! Nothing wrong with that! Besides, having everything be color-coordinated in her apartment made Caitlyn seem like she knew the least bit about interior design when, in truth, she didn’t.
Looking around the space now, Caitlyn could see the magnitude of her love for the shortest wavelength of light. A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips. Isn’t this the beauty of having your own place and the freedom to customize it however you please?
It’s this thought of being able to do whatever she wants that Caitlyn comes up with a new project. Perhaps the walls could match the furniture! The landlord-special white of modern flats didn’t look terrible against the splash of color around it, but if she was going to commit to this particular interest of hers, she might as well go all out.
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃♡︎𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃
Vander's Expanders: Home Renovation Emporium isn't the nearest hardware store to Caitlyn's place, but it is right beside the quaint vegetarian bistro where she and her best friend, Jayce, have their weekly Sunday brunch.
After saying their goodbyes, Caitlyn steps through the automatic doors and is immediately greeted by rows of doorknobs, light fixtures, shower heads, and a gentle giant of a man who regards her with the warmest grin.
“Good day to you, ma'am! Welcome to Vander's Expanders! I'm Vander. How can I help you?”
“Hello! I am looking for paint for the walls of my apartment,” responds Caitlyn.
“Ah!” Vander claps his large hands together. “Just go down that aisle,” he gestures toward the one they stand before. “And turn right. My daughter will be there to assist you at the paint mixing stand.”
Caitlyn thanks Vander and goes on her way. It's a sizable establishment, but Caitlyn quickly finds her destination.
The sales clerk, who apparently also happens to be the owner's daughter, has a spiky shock of pink hair, occupied hands rifling through paint swatches, and her back turned to Caitlyn when she finds her.
“Excuse me,” Caitlyn starts. “I'm looking for paint—”
The sales clerk turns to face her and the view that Caitlyn is met with makes her trip over her words into the staggering gray of eyes shadowed with smoke curling around a dream Caitlyn never knew she could have before.
She forces herself to snap out of it if only just to finish her sentence.
“—I… umm… I need violet.”
The woman who flustered Caitlyn, otherwise known for having excellent composure, beams at this and flashes the cheekiest smirk.
“Well, babe… You've come to the right place! I'm Violet, but you can call me Vi,” she pauses, looking Caitlyn up and down and noting the deep blush blooming on her cheeks. “You can also call me yours—”
“NICE TO MEET YOU, VIOLET, BUT I ACTUALLY MEANT I WAS LOOKING FOR VIOLET PAINT!!!” Caitlyn frantically stammers out. Whether the increasing heat of her flush was from the sheer irony of the coincidence of identical color and person names or something else entirely, she wouldn't dare tell a soul.
Vi laughs, full and unrestrained, clutching the counter. “And I actually meant that you can call me your savvy paint consultant.”
Caitlyn swallows, feeling rather presumptuous. “O-oh,” she says, barely more than a breath.
Vi enjoys her reaction for a short moment before getting back to business. “So violet paint, huh? What are you going to be using it for?”
“The walls of my living room,” Caitlyn answers, then adds, though she isn't sure why she does. “It- it's my favorite color, and practically all my furniture and stuff are some shade or other of it.”
Vi hums in understanding and quirks a puckish brow. “Good choice. Violet is fantastic, after all. Both as a color and… other things.”
It feels like a lifetime, but it's really no more than ten minutes later that Vi has helped Caitlyn select the perfect shade to transform her space.
Although Caitlyn has a sneaking suspicion that the whole “savvy paint consultant” title was just a coquettish gimmick to catch her off guard, Vi genuinely does have a talented eye when it comes to choosing the perfect paint for every occasion and situation. To Vi, every coat of paint is a character with a personality and purpose that needs a fitting stage to thrive.
After the final paint can is extracted from the agitator and Caitlyn hands over her card for payment, Vi stops short of giving her the receipt and scrawls something down on the slip of paper in an antsy haste.
“I- uhh…” Now it's Vi's turn to be flustered. “If you need help painting your walls… You can call me…” Vi wipes off the sweat that beads at her forehead. “It's… uhhh… a service of ours! Free of charge!” Vi hands Caitlyn the receipt in a rush, pretends to check her watch (she looks at the wrong wrist), and scampers off as she calls out. “Gotta go! Bye!”
Caitlyn is stunned by Vi's sudden departure and can't do anything in her stupor except look down at the receipt to see what Vi has written next to her phone number. Three words that unexpectedly make her heart skip a beat.
“Your Favorite Color.”
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃♡︎𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃
It has been a full year since Caitlyn moved into her apartment, and it couldn't be more of a home than it is now.
Every nook and cranny holds a piece of Caitlyn's identity, from the sleek and well guarded rifle cabinet, walls lined with books, framed photos of her milestones and loved ones.
A Doberman pinscher puppy nuzzles Caitlyn's ankles as she pours kibble into its food bowl, a charming periwinkle to match the purple of the fluffy rug they stand on and pretty much everything else around them.
Over the last several months, Caitlyn has acquired more and more items in the hue that lights her heart the brightest.
But perhaps the nicest violet thing of them all is the woman who wraps her arms around Caitlyn and kisses her neck, making her spill extra kibble on the ground, much to their dog's delight.
“Morning, Cait.”
“Good morning, my Violet.”
Violet herself.
The loveliest color of them all.