Your eyes are blue too.
The leaves have finally all fallen off the trees, leaving the bare, gnarled branches jutting into the crisp fall air. If Max sat down and made a list of all the things she loved about October, that'd be near the top of the list, the piles of leaves gathered around, still too far from winter to turn into a slushy mess, crunching if one walked on them. Though if she made a list for this particular October, she was pretty sure spending copious amounts of time with Chloe again would be her number one.
It was a fairly cool day. Cool enough for Max to swap out her thin jacket for one of Chloe's thicker flannel over-shirts. There wasn't any particular reason as to why she'd decided on wearing Chloe's shirt, not at all. It certainly wasn't because it smelled of some parts cigarette and hemp smoke and the cologne William used to wear but Chloe had taken to wearing in his stead, refusing to let it go. It smelled some parts something Max couldn't quite figure out, but it was very distinctly Chloe. It wasn't that the smell and the warmth came together in such a way that it was like constantly being wrapped in her. No not at all. It was a cold day and the shirt was thick and warm. Simple as.
Still, it's not as if the smell and familiarity wasn't comforting. Maybe it was weird and obsessive, but after five years away from the other girl, Max really didn't care. If Chloe had a problem with it, (which she didn't seem to, she was leaning her back against the very same tree trunk as Max, sharing her space) Chloe would tell her. When Max had made her way out into the quad to meet the taller girl, Chloe had only said "nice shirt", before leading Max to the tree they were currently seated at.
She'd brought take-out cups of coffee from Two Whales, which were long since emptied. A stray breeze off the bay threatened to carry them off, but Chloe whipped off the beanie hiding her hair and dumped it on top of them to weigh the cups down. Now free of their constraints, tendrils of her hair whipped around in the wind, occasionally brushing against Max's cheek. When Chloe reached up to try and bat it down again, Max stopped her hand and pinched the hair in question, looking at it intently.
"I think you should dye it blue," she mused, toying with the hair.
"Blue?"
"Yeah. Like the sky. Or blue jays."
"The baseball team?"
"No, not the baseball team, smartass," Max scolded, digging the blonde with her elbow lightly. "Blue like…your eyes. It is your colour," she mumbled, shrugging slightly. Chloe just laughed at the younger's poorly disguised embarrassment.
"Blue," she mused, gently reclaiming the captive hair from Max's hands to study herself. "Your eyes are blue too, Max."
Anyone who's spent any amount of time, y'know, listening to music recently, probably knows that the title is shamelessly nicked from Halsey's "Colors". It's one of my favourite songs by her, but it actually doesn't really fit with the playlist I've made for writing Pricefield. Any time I write a new fic, I have to compile a playlist to help me set the mood for whatever I'm trying to get with that fic. For general Pricefield, it's mostly chill indie acoustic, I've included a lot of the game's soundtrack in it (if anyone's curious I can send the list to you). Anyway that little insight into my work process got a bit out of hand. Thanks for letting me know what you think of the story so far guys. Come back tomorrow for more nerds who totally-aren't-in-love-no-way-josé.