Title: Pale.
Disclaimer: I don't own Warehouse 13; nor the characters. Not making any money. Just for fun.
Author's note: There it is! My first fic. I feel nervous and kind of stupid right now ^^ I think that's what is called a drabble.
Please be gentle, enjoy it if you can, don't hesitate to review and help me improve this work as english is not my first langage.
"Everytime I close my eyes it's like a dark paradise
No one compares to you, I'm scared that you won't be waiting on the other side"
[Dark Paradise - Lana Del Rey]
Pale. The moon is pale.
Pale. That's what people think, when they look at her, since… then.
Pale. Like life itself. Everything is so damn pale! Her food, her work, her readings, her laughs…
Pale.
That's what she thought she had looked like the first time they've met. Well, after she had dropped her gun and looked at her sitting on a chair. She figured it was the bronze thing. Not the best place to keep your tan alive. But after a while she realized, it was her first misjudgment. She actually always looked like this.
Her so perfectly… whitely… painfully gorgeous pale.
Soon the word became associated with brain, wit, charm and hope. It was so strange how every color colliding with her pale suddenly seemed brighter. She guessed it had something to do with contrast. Well, nevertheless, it became her favorite color.
That was her second misjudgment.
Some random night, another color came into the painting. Red. She immediately burned it in her memory. her red rivaled with her pale and took the upper hand, while her other hand was focused on a simple caressing task. And everything shattered inside and out. The sight entranced her. Her vision focused only on the shade of red that replaced her beloved pale as emotions flew around them. She couldn't let it go. Her entire being was focused solely on making her pale transforms into deep red.
Everytime, everyday, everything.
Her body couldn't be reasonable until red appeared. Her eyes searched it, her hands, her mouth, her tongue, made unbearable efforts to succeed and elicit the color to appear. She was the only one who could make it happen. She was often the only one to be graced with the sight of it. And it made her feel elevated. Powerful. Loved.
All these colorful memories are now surrounded with darkness that invaded slowly everything around her. She soon reflects that blackness is once more tossed upon every attempt at coloring.