Short Stories (reconstructed)

If today were a color

If today were a color, I'd say it's yellow.

Not only do we lie on the grass to gaze at the clouds and the sky, we also dance in the middle of the gazebo. That little place we always meet at for lunch, where we always chat until we forget we are supposed to eat. I remember our uniforms well, even if it's been so long since we last wore them. Mine had a navy blue collar and a white blouse with a matching necktie for a too, and a plain navy blue skirt for a bottom. Yours was just a polo and navy blue pants. You never had to worry if the wind carried your bottoms as you jumped. I can see your smile in these moments, eyes open or closed. The way you pranced around the soccer field, laughing like the child you were.

If today were a color, I'd say it's teal.

It's my favorite. We sit in the gardens painting, and I watch as your pencil glides across the canvas as if it's barely touching the surface. I'm using pictures of past travels as reference, and you paint a moonset. You just want the colors. I finish before you and leave my painting to dry as I make us matcha tea. I sit beside you as I drink mine and carry yours on a saucer on my lap. I stay and watch until your brush lays the final strokes of sky blue on your painted ocean. You finish just as the sun sets. We hang our paintings by the windows of our rooms, laying on our beds tapping patterns onto the walls to talk.

If today were a color, I'd say it's pink.

Like the blush upon your cheeks and mine as we look at the mirror at the same time. My hair is in an elegant bun, my favorite to wear, and your favorite to do. You're always better than me at hairdressing. The silver glint of your ring shines onto my eyes as you turn to observe it in front you, and you apologize after realizing. Look at you, you tell me as you reach your hand out to take mine. No, look at yourself. I reply. The smile you attempt to suppress is etched on your face, so I smile back. You always know which steps I'd take next whenever we dance, the same way I know yours.

If today were a color, I'd say it's magenta.

We sit by the veranda eating our breakfast, drinking matcha latte along with it. I don't know why you ordered these, knowing that we can both cook these well on our own, but I just eat away. We exchange a few table taps and glances, a few giggles, and some shared silence. We clean up after ourselves and leave no piece of pancake or drops of sauce lying on the table. I tell you to stay where you are, offering to do the dishes. Your plate is always as cleanly empty as mine, if not more, I catch you leaning on the backrest of your seat as I open the door. Hey, we have to tend to the garden I tell you as I tap your forehead. You do nothing more but groan softly and stand to stretch, then take what's needed for gardening. We tend to the flowers together as a gust of wind blows past us and the sun rises higher.