I do not own these characters.
Summary: Yuffie is like spilt paint.
Pairing: Mild Vincent.Yuffie
Word Count: 176
It is a hot summer day.
A girl, about nineteen with ebony hair and mischevious mauve eyes, turns her gaze to the left, wondering how her stoic companion--the enigmatic Vincent Valentine--can wear all those thick, heavy layers of clothing.
It's hot, too hot; she can almost feel her brain melting inside her skull as she bends down, turning the fan to full-power and sighing in content. Then she looks back down and begins to move her paintbrush across the white paper again. Vincent glances at her once with crimson eyes. She is still young, so young, and childishly painting.
A few minutes pass.
Yuffie sighs. Painting like this is so boring.
With one swift motion, she nudges the paint, grinning with satisfaction as it topples over and spills onto the drab gray floor, the blue-purple-black-yellow-orange-green-red-mix covering the monochrome surface and spreading its vibrant colors all around.
And Vincent, being a natural observer, can't help but feel that sometimes he is that monochrome and drab floor, and Yuffie is the color that spills all around him like paint.