Funny how colors seem different down here. On the Ark, colors were just colors. The steel gray of the walls and floors, the faded, dull clothes passed down from generation to generation. The sky is always dark, the stars always somewhat visible in the distance. On the Ground, colors are everything. The minute they stepped out into the light, the pale blue sky was visible, stretching for miles and miles in every direction. It's unbelievable how many colors the sky can hold. Changing from hour to hour, darkening; stormy gray in the rain, violet and baby blue in the final moments of the setting sun, to the pale blue-green with the first morning light. All the shades of blue in the sky, and he still couldn't find the right one to describe the color of her eyes.
After studying them for a while, she decided that his eyes changed colors. In the sunlight they shone like gold, though never matched the scowl on his face. In the rain they matched the mud on the ground, and it was the only time his eyes ever mirrored his mood. The best was when the sun had set and his eyes were dark like the ink-black sky, the stars shining in them like glittering jewels. It was different seeing the stars from Earth than it was seeing them from inside the Ark, where there was only a plate glass window separating them from the outside. On Earth, the stars are still far away, but the wide night sky allows for a better view. A century without light pollution resulting in billions of stars scattered across the sky, the deep purple of the galaxy illuminating them. Staring up at them one night, she wonders what he thinks of the view.
Once, on a mission, he happened to glance her way. The sun was shining on her blond hair, amplifying the different shades that made it complete. He'd never noticed how many colors there were before. The white-blond highlights shone the brightest, mixed in with dirty blonds and ash blonds. His glance lingered until she turned her head and caught him; he looked away, pretending not to notice that she'd seen. Once she'd faced forward again, he couldn't help but look back. A lingering glance or two later, and he had to force himself to stare at the ground while he walked. The grass was vibrantly green that day. It was the first time in a week it hadn't rained.
His hair, she noticed, was simply brown. Similar to the color of his eyes, but unlike his eyes, never changed. A constant, curly, thick mop of brown hair that sat in a mess atop his head. She liked it like that. Always dark; even when the sun shone on it. Admittedly, she'd liked it much better once he'd washed all the gel out of his hair. It had looked much darker when it had been slicked back over the top of his head.
One night, out in the woods, she had been laying down beside the fire while he'd been assigned watch. He did watch, for a while, before realizing that there was nothing around but him, her, and his little sister. He looked over at her; the warm orange glow of the fire illuminating her face. The orange mixed in with her hair, giving it an almost golden look. A few cuts on her face, he noticed, but he didn't know where she'd gotten them from. After watching for a little bit, and noticing all the things about her, he realized with a jolt that he was in love with her. He looked a little closer at the cut across her eyebrow and the one across her forehead; he wondered if she would be okay. But then, he remembered, she was Clarke. Of course she'd be okay.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she caught him looking at her once again. His gaze lingered a second longer before he looked away, training his eyes back at the trees, watching for any more threats. She liked the way the light of the fire emphasized the freckles on his face. He didn't have that many; just a light dusting across his nose and cheeks. She was still laying by the fire, and only half-awake, when she realized he was attractive. Somehow, this realization changed nothing. The world didn't do a flip and the white noise didn't shatter; she was still laying by the fire and he was still on watch. And since they were still the only ones awake, she decided it would be easier to talk.
Sometime later, on a different day, in a different place, they are the only ones awake yet again. The stars are out, and she has learned to pick out the constellations among the millions. Maybe, at this point, she's even made up a few of her own. He's there because he can't sleep, and because he would choose sitting awake with her over lying awake alone any day. They talk, mostly about the things they've done to get to this point. She looks over at him, and sees that his eyes are dark as the night, just as she remembered. Her gaze lingers, just as his had done so many times before. Her eyes are blue like the sky just before the sun rises.
When they finally do kiss, it feels like being able to see in color for the very first time.