the color of envy
The color of envy is the pale ivory of her skin.
It is the soft hand that brushes against yours in frantic typing and tapping. It is the delicate, smooth line of her neck that peeks out from behind her sweater. It is the creamy curve of her cheek that floods with red-hot remembrance whenever he's in the room.
The color of envy is the pink sheen of her lips.
It is every kind, unassuming word that escapes her pretty mouth and floods your mind with dreams. It is every stolen breath when she bites that very lip in concentration. It is every time that glossy shade of pink is not quite fully wiped from his skin.
The color of envy is the hazel of her eyes.
It is the quick, sideways glance she sends your way when you announce you've found something before her attention is diverted. It is the fear that fills her eyes when she realizes the team is in immediate danger in the field. It is the light that fills her orbs, happy and contented, when he's safe once more.
The color of envy is the shining silver of her ring.
It is every day before that one that she never wore jewelry. It is every bit of curiosity you feel when you see the flash of silver at her neck. It is every crushed hope suffocating you at once when she turns suddenly, the pendant escaping its confinement near her bosom, and it's not a pendant at all.
It's a ring. A glittering diamond ring.
The color of envy is the pure white of her dress.
It is the slope of her hips swinging slightly as she walks toward him covered in light satin. It is the gentle angles of her back shown from the dress's drape. It is the smooth feeling of the fabric under your hand as you dance before her husband steals her away again.
The color of envy is the bright yellow of the wall.
It is every soft smile she sends him as she lovingly strokes her expanding stomach. It is every team member helping to paint the nursery he plans to surprise her with. It is every brush full of paint that you swipe onto the wall that convinces you that you cannot live your life envious of him.
The color of relief is found in her red hair and his blue eyes.
It is not Nell's skin, lips, eyes, ring, dress, or wall that make you realize you've finally moved on. It's when you see their baby for the first time—cradled in Callen's arms instead of your own, with her red hair and his blue eyes—that you know. You know your life no longer revolves around the many shades of envy.
It no longer revolves around her.