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Chartreuse, salmon, peach.
Mizi, of course, is what she’s thinking of. Her beautiful chartreuse eyes, full of ambition and excitement for the future. Salmon pink hair, short—then long, cascading down her back—choppy and messy barely reaching her ears. Peach, alive and plump skin—bursting with sweet blood.
(Her head is pounding and yet at the same time numb from brain fog, she records in a distant part of her somehow functioning brain.)
Still, Mizi loops in her mind over and over and over. It’s the only thing that has played in her mind since her other life’s curtains closed. A reverse fairytale, Sua wasn’t the dazzling prince who saved Mizi from her slumber—instead falling ill right alongside her. Chu—a sweet kiss that ended her life instead of leading to a new one up ahead.
Arguably more romantic, she thinks with a hum, letting her head fall as her neck decided it was too much effort to support. A fleshy-sinew wet sound comes from behind her back.
More sounds reach her ears, the sound of footsteps, groans, cracking wet flesh noises. A dull thump, she then realizes is from Mizi!
Mizi seems to have a headache just like her, considering she keeps thumping her head back against the chipped and off-colored brick. Sua frowns, she assumes.
A frown doesn’t stay on her face for long, it can’t. Sua is so—so happy, after all she’s finally been reunited with Mizi again! After so long of being separated by dingy basements and dust and death but not really death and chains, training for their dream show has finally begun.
This specifically means training with Mizi. Being in the same room with Mizi again. No more of waiting in front of a distant idol as someone only able to give a simple fan gift and platitudes. (Glanced at once, then cast aside, what, is her butler more interesting than Sua? How long has it been since they actually saw each other face to face?) Yet—now, now she gets up close, 24/7 time with sweet Mizi.
Chu—Mizi is too adorable right now. The goat creatures seem to be occupied right now, as they weren’t being trained at the moment, so that meant no interruptions in her staring. (A single eye burning from the lack of moisture, surely more bearable than Mizi’s zero.)
Mizi had always dreamed of the stage, even now, it was the only thing she responded to. Sua had never been able to compete, both literally and not. Still, she was selfish.
Because of that, she’s sure Mizi wouldn’t mind her walking next to her and grabbing her hand. Pulling her down, down to the ground, wrapping her arms around her and pushing her head into her neck. Nuzzling her nose into Mizi’s salmon pink hair. Breathing in her scent, rotten and yet still having a barely there scent of sweetness and candy.
Chu—she presses her dry lips to Mizi’s temple. Chartreuse, salmon, peach.