Hey guys! So I'm trying to get back into writing fic, haven't really had time since my 80-chapter Eragon one I had going on like 7 years ago. So here's a oneshot with one of my fav OTP's. Expect more.
There was something about the color red.
It began with the cherry tomatoes she insisted on putting on their salad, despite the fact that neither of them particularly liked them. It was for the nutrients, she explained, popping one between her teeth and letting the juice run over her bottom lip and drip down her chin. He didn't argue.
The strawberries were next, every dessert she ate was either made from or smothered in them: cakes, ice creams, milkshakes. Strawberries with cream was her favorite, he noticed, as he watched her savor them on the balcony of their apartment every time the weather was nice, her smile all sugar.
After a week her obsession grew, as now every meal she ate was doused in ketchup, a cataclysm of crimson splattering her plate with ruin. She would eat at it hungrily, dipping and swirling her food through it until everything matched, everything was one uniform color. He watched, eyes following her every movement. Hoping this, surely, would be the worst of it. It wasn't.
He had jokingly wondered if she would eventually start wearing red, had decided it would be a good color on her even. He hadn't imagined it like this. Hadn't even considered the implications of what it could mean. Her clothes were red alright, stained with the life of the dead littered at her feet. The souls that pulsated around her were also red, kishin, evil, but so was the spark of bloodlust in her eyes, the snarl on her lips. It took days for her nails to be white again.
Her eyes were rimed red when he went into her room and found her huddled in her blankets, hair matted and tear tracks down her cheeks. It took him some time to coax her fingers out of their claws and loosen the covers, huddling in beside her.
"Does it get easier?" She asked tentatively, voice shimmering.
"Does what get easier?" He replied, thumbing away another tear.
"Seeing red. I want to know what it's like, seeing the world through those eyes of yours. How do you stand it?"
He chuckled, the tenor reverberating throughout her body. She took in the grass stains on his clothes, the leaves in his hair, the mint of his breath, the lime of his shampoo.
He looked into her emerald eyes, his red ones softening. "How would I know?" he asked, "All I ever see is green."
Super short, but like I said I'm just easing back into it. Let me know what you think!