Title:
bright as yellow
Rating:
Gen, G
/K
Summary:
What Susan looks like, most days.
A/N:
Just an exercise. I'm doing a Yule Ball thing next and I wanted to
sketch something first.
-
And
I do not want to be a rose,
I
do not wish to be pale pink.
Susan has no use for spectacle, no need to reflect qualities she doesn't have.
She likes boys' trousers that suit her long legs and shirts that button down the front. (She never unbutton past the third button, and rarely past the second.) She likes woolly jumpers, especially ones that she's knitted herself. She doesn't carry a handbag.
At home she sometimes wears her dad's old coat, which is only a little too long for her, and she tromps around in polka dot Wellies that her grandmother would have loved. (She never minds the mud.)
She like colors that don't shout and things that don't sparkle -- she likes yellows and greens and blues and petal-whites, like a meadow in spring. She doesn't wear jewellery but she thinks pearls are lovely, and fancies that they have all the patience of the sea.
Her shoulders are wide but her hips are narrow; her long hair, unplaited, falls almost to the small of her back, though she always keeps her hair neat whilst in school. But she's fond of her uniform with its soft grey wool jumpers, its skirts that brush her at the knees. Every day her shoes scuff the flagstones and by mid-afternoon her tie has gone slack at her neck, threatening to fall. (She always straightens it up again.)
Her hair is a bit brown, a bit ginger; her eyes are hazel. She only knows how to put on a bit of mascara and lip gloss. Her perfume, when she bothers to wear it, smells of lavender. Her laughter sounds grosgrain but her voice is clear, and she is almost pretty when she smiles.
Some days she feels gangly or plain or boring, but most days she just feels like herself.
-
