Namine was an artist. That meant that she was a master of the imagination, commander of the crayon and paper. But more than that, ever so much simpler, she held power over one thing: color. She loved it, adored it, relished in the sheer beauty of it, and, most of all saw it everywhere.
Color was probably the most vibrant thing that stood out in Namine's otherwise dull life and that was why it was the only thing she ever bothered to see in.
Maybe it was memories from a past life or something, but certain things stood out especially to her. Like the unlikely combination of shocking red and acidic green. They were opposites but that's why the two colors complimented each other so nicely. She always looked forward to seeing the redhead who was a walking example of her thoughts on the matter because even more than his loud personality, just the sight of him would wake her from the daze she usually found herself in.
Namine was somewhat guilty in admitting she supported the blue eyed blond cliché-not on herself though. What appeared in her mind when she pictured it was a golden blond with electric blue eyes. The notion of a blue eyed brunette actually wasn't that bad either. Maybe this was why she constantly found her eyes drawn to the brothers (or they could have been twins for all she knew) who were such a manifestation of the images. Nothing could explain the twinge of compassion she felt whenever she looked at them though.
Actually there were a lot of things that couldn't be explained about her reactions to colors. Like the pity she felt for silver or the silent loathing of pink and the timidity she possessed when handling a nice wine red.
She could fully understand her aversion to the color white. She was washed out enough as it was-dull blond hair, winter sky blue eyes, and a complexion like paper. But Namine still ended up using it a lot of the time. Even her clothes seemed to contain some appearance of the color. She was too white in her opinion but for some reason couldn't just ignore the color.
It was possibly some kind of self inflicted punishment she sometimes thought. Because she only saw in colors. Because even though there were people who so vividly represented those hues and evoked such strange feelings in her, she still didn't care enough to really look at them and recognize the features that set them apart from the rest of the population. She never saw past the colors. They were the only things that could filter through her constant oblivious state of mind.
Sometimes Namine felt that the colors hated her.
