Ruby Lucas lives in technicolor.
(She likes the name Ruby, even though her real name is Red. She doesn't see any reason why she should let that go).
She lives in a flurry of greens and hues of blue as Archie and Gepetto bond over a few drinks, standing beside an old dart board and laughing at something Doc just said, raising their glasses at him in a humorous salute; in hues of pink and red as Grumpy and Nova sit together on a table, smiling at each other and laughing brightly, blissful looks on their faces and she resides within the stormy, purple composition of Regina's magic; shines through David's optimism.
She lives in Belle's old, musty library, the smell of books and ink filling her senses; in flashes of brown and green and gold as she runs through the woods, the sun's golden glow beating down her back; in the flurry of brown as Henry excitedly pulls her aside to have a look at his book (she knows how it ends, but who can resist that kid?)
And Ruby can't help but smile at the peachy pout Snow sports whenever she half-heartedly complains about her family's crazy antics over a glass of cheery, orange fizz; Hook trilling about the wonders of mirrors and cursing foul beasts (ovens) on one side as Emma tries to not roll her eyes as she orders her coffee, light brown, topped with cinnamon, still warm.
Ruby lives in her own rainbow palette of coffee-filled mornings; in waffle Tuesdays and blueberry pancake Wednesdays; in nights when the moon is full and the familiar sensation of pleasure-pain shoots through her bones as she runs through the woods, wild, free, every bit of the animal she really is. She lives in the days when rain falls on the town; in the sea where she can smell the fish and the salt and can feel the sun's golden rays; in fields where bottle-green grass reaches gallantly towards a tinged horizon as thin sheets of grey rain down on Storybrooke.
Ruby is a technicolor girl, filled with starlit wishes and chipper days, saccharine smiles and wishful dreams, her future bright (she'll figure out a way to get out of this town of course, someday).
(So can someone please tell her why she keeps on staring at the monochrome guy sitting at the farthest end of the diner, his shoulders slouched defeatedly and his eyes so dull and indifferent that they are no color at all?)
Because.