Authors Notes: I had an idea…there is nothing worse than letting an idea disappear in the depths of your own mind, never to be shared with anyone else. That's like painting a picture clear. So…here's my idea. Hope you enjoy it, as I had a lot of fun writing it. There will be more chapters…since the chapters are not that long.

If you have something to say…then say it. I like reviews a lot more than I probably should. Who knows…maybe I'll even color you yellow.

Disclaimer: Idea is mine, the rest belongs elsewhere.

.C.o.l.o.r.M.e.

Yellow

Love is Yellow.

Bland yellow, neither bright nor dark, bearing that of a letter of written pastimes. I remember the first day we met, under the golden sun in the yellowed fields. You were sitting there, angered that you couldn't paint the day. I was on my way to begin my training and when I passed, you tripped me. I fell down into the dry, dead grass. I turned, ready to strike and thou begged for my forgiveness. Your blonde hair coiled and flopped, short in the front, long in the back, wrapping around your off-white skin. I staggered, bedazzled by thy beauty, the glittering dusts of sand whirling in the far distance. And then thou asked the question that took me years to answer. You asked if you could paint me…

"Thanks for comin'," she said, kicking a rock as she walked through the brush and needles strewn across the forest floor bed.

Most of the Phantom Forest was submerged under the sea, but Relm Arrowny still felt the unnerving touch of ancient spirits dwelling in the remains. Nonetheless, she had a certain bounce in her step like she always did. A purplish cloth was tightly wrapped around her head and she was draped in a large red jacket that closely resembled her old grandpa's coat. She seemed the same as always, but she only spoke when she worried. She'd break her gentle, pleasant humming in the back of her throat only to fill that bit of loneliness whenever the journey became too long. Otherwise, talking didn't do much good, since he would never respond.

"You know…you didn't have to come," she continued. "I'm a big girl now, yup, yup, almost seventeen. I can handle myself…"

She trailed off, letting the crows of suicidal birds awkwardly finish her sentence. She'd soon be out of the forest and on the plains of Iseragarida, an ancient Doman Priest. It'd only be a matter of hours before she would arrive at the ruins. She giggled when she thought about what he was going to do when they'd emerge from the woodlands. He wouldn't leave five feet for her, but how would he go unnoticed in the plains? The cracks and snaps of twigs proved that he was still nearby, but she could not catch a glimpse of him.

"You know…you don't have to hide. I know you're there. We can do this together…I'll need some support anyway."

He did not respond, as expected. It didn't matter, soon his cover will be blown, but he was incredibly crafty. She wondered what he would do when they got to the last of the trees.

The whisperings grew, sounding somewhere between alive and dead. Relm shuddered. She really hated this place and had hoped it had sunk with the rest of the world on that fateful day. Unfortunately, it was the only way to Cyan's grave. That, of course, made her quickly wince when the thought of one of the voices possibly belonging to Cyan brushed through her head.

"No, no…it can't be."

She stopped, hoping the thoughts would walk right out of her. The snapping sound close by stopped a moment later. She closed her eyes which only made it worse. When she opened them, she saw a peculiar flower.

"Oh…it's so pretty," she said, picking it gently out of the ground and placing it in her hair. "Look, it's yellow like my hair. Isn't it pretty?"

She turned to face her follower, but he could not be found. After she believed she had given ample time for him to look at it, she turned back for the journey. The snappings immediately began, following her footsteps. He was so nice to guard her and watch over her, even if he didn't speak. She really did enjoy his company, which meant a lot to Relm Arrowny.

So I said yes, more out of curiosity than desire. I remember standing there, holding my sword firmly at the belt as if I were already the knight that I dreamed of. I remember looking down the fields whilst you painted, noting the yellowness of the day. The sea reflected the yellow leaves dangling on the golden branches of trees lining the sandy shores beside the dry fields of dying grass. Everything was yellow, except for me. I was not yellow. That's why you wanted to paint me so badly. I laugh at it now, but the lashings from father for missing my first day of training were brutal. Although…I will never regret it.

Color me yellow…