Hilary hated a lot of things.
Insects, cauliflower, and phantoms, of course, were at the top of the list. She also hated people who were stuck-up, or know it alls. High heels and make up were included as well, but she was getting better with the latter.
One of Hilary's most despised things was not being able to fall asleep at night.
It drove her absolutely insane. Hilary was almost always tired at night, but sometimes, she just couldn't get her eyes to stay closed or her mind to drift off. She would just roll back and forth in her sleeping bag for what felt like forever, feeling as though she were slowly losing her mind.
What Hilary loved, however, was to talk. And talk and talk and talk. Aside from the fact that she was a natural born chatterbox, she enjoyed having the company that a conversation brought. Long, easy talks often mellowed her out, especially in an instance like this where she just couldn't fall asleep.
"Tyson?"
"Mmmm…"
Even if it meant disturbing someone who wasn't having a similar problem.
"What's your favorite color?" Hilary whispered.
Tyson groaned again and finally managed to crack one eye open. He looked at Hilary, lying on her back in her red, bubble printed sleeping bag, staring up into the late night sky through the tops of the forest trees. She was definitely wide awake, but he wasn't.
"Hilary, go to sleep," Tyson muttered tiredly.
"A lot of people think my favorite color is blue, because of the sky, but it isn't," Hilary continued, blatantly ignoring Tyson's suggestion.
"Fascinating," Tyson exhaled, rolling over in his sleeping bag so his back was facing Hilary. He had hoped she would take this as a hint, but of course she didn't. She just kept going.
"Then some people think it's yellow, because I always wear those colors," Hilary mused. "But…those aren't my favorite colors, either. I just think they complement my skin tone."
"Mmm," Tyson groaned tiredly.
"It's definitely not pink. Pink is way too girly."
…
"I bet you can't even guess my favorite color," Hilary hummed.
"Oh my…" Tyson grumbled, burying his face into his sleeping bag. He was almost hoping he would suffocate so he wouldn't have to listen to Hilary's rambling anymore.
"Want to guess?" Hilary trilled.
"NO!" Tyson screamed loudly enough so his voice wouldn't be as terribly muffled by the fabric of his sleeping bag.
"It's green," Hilary blurted, Tyson's shoulders slumping in defeat. "I don't know why, but I've always found the color green to be so soothing! It's kind of watery too, I guess. Not as much as blue, obviously. But isn't mint green such a lovely shade? And forest green is so dark and cool! Of course, emeralds are beautiful.."
Tyson started to feel his lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, and despite his original intentions, pulled away from the material and sucked in a deep breath, desperate to refill his lungs.
"I told you my favorite color," Hilary murmured. "So…now you have to tell me yours."
Tilting his head back so it sank deeper into the material of his sleeping bag, Tyson squeezed his eyes shut and let out a loud snore, hoping to trick Hilary into thinking he was asleep.
"That was the worst fake snore I've ever heard, Granger. I know you're awake."
I'm only awake because you won't shut up, Tyson thought acidly.
"Tell me what your favorite color is."
…
"Or else I won't shut up for the rest of the night."
"Fine, Hilary! Fine!" Tyson moaned, rolling onto his back and throwing his arms down atop his sleeping bag. "My favorite color is Brown, okay? Is that what you want? It's Brown. There's your answer. Brown."
"Brown?" Hilary repeated thoughtfully.
"Yeah," Tyson muttered. "Got a problem with it?"
"No," Hilary giggled at the notion. "I just…never really pegged you as a brown person. I thought you were going to say red."
"Why?"
"You wear a lot of red," Hilary explained. "Your sleeping bag is red."
"My Grandpa buys all of my stuff," Tyson sighed. "And he just buys a lot of red."
"Oh."
"Can I go to sleep now?" Tyson asked miserably.
"First you have to tell me why your favorite color is brown," Hilary reasoned.
"Seriously, Hilary?" Tyson groaned.
"I'm genuinely curious!"
"Well I'm genuinely tired."
"Just tell me," Hilary pleaded. "Then you can go to sleep."
Tyson furrowed his brow and looked over at Hilary, silently noting how the moonlight shined in her beautiful auburn eyes. "Promise?"
"I promise," Hilary whispered.
Tyson bit his lip and closed his eyes. "It's…it's so embarrassing."
"I won't laugh at you," Hilary promised. "Please, just tell me. I want to know!"
Inhaling deeply, Tyson squeezed his eyes shut more tightly as he responded in a rushed manner, "my favorite color is brown because of your hair."
Hilary's eyebrows shot up her forehead, while Tyson slowly and timidly opened his eyes. "W-wait. R-really? It's…it's because of my hair?"
"Yeah…" Tyson crooned. "Your hair is so bright. It's always reminded me of fire. It's so different! The brightest hair I've ever seen. It's perfect for you."
"Tyson…" Hilary breathed, her entire face blushing.
"When I see trees, I think of your hair," Tyson continued through a powerful yawn. "And when I think of your hair, I think of brown. And that makes me happy. So…Brown is my favorite color. And that's why."
Hilary smiled to herself and looked down at the ground, nervously wringing her hands beneath the cover of her sleeping bag. "Tyson…that's the sweetest thing I've ever heard you say. Thank you…for telling me that. I…I always knew…I knew that you and I…we were…perfect. More than that. And, Tyson, I always wanted to tell you-"
Hilary was interrupted by a snore, one far more delicate than Tyson's fake wheeze from before. Looking up from the ground, Hilary was stunned to see that Tyson had fallen fast asleep, and subsequently, not heard a single word she just said.
"Never mind," Hilary sighed, closing her eyes as well. "I'll tell you on another night when I can't fall asleep."