Colors Tell Stories (Fourth) // Tom Holland

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Color: Blue - depth, trust, loyalty, sincerity, wisdom, confidence, stability, faith, heaven, and intelligence. The color blue has positive effects on the mind and the body.

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I sat on a bench next to an ice cream vendor, my laptop sitting next to me as I opened up another pack of sugar. I poured it into the styrofoam cup and slowly stirred it, being momentarily mesmerized by the way the colors of the milk and coffee blended, making it lighter. I took the stirring spoon out and placed the lid back over it, taking a cautious sip before settling it down on the other side of me. I placed my laptop back onto my lap, angling the screen to reduce the glare the sun gave it. Looking up, I watched the sky. The clouds had disappeared, opening a clear sky. The light blue was blinding, almost. It was bright, but it felt lively. I closed my eyes, breathing in and releasing a deep sigh of content.

"Slacking off?" I opened my eyes, casting them toward the voice in front of me. I was blinded by blue again - this time it was darker, and it was over a broad body. I smiled, patting the seat next to me as Tom removed his sunglasses, throwing an arm over me.

"No, not all of us have the luxury to slack off, Mr. Holland." I smiled at him, turning the brightness on my computer up as I picked up my coffee to take another sip. "Where were we?" Tom hadn't responded to me, causing me to glance at him. As soon as our eyes met he cleared his throat, looking down at my computer.

"Uh - Steven and Josie were going into the house." Tom said, his finger skimming over our short story for writing class. "He tried to convince her to go to the police, but she wants to prove to him what she saw the other day." I nodded, moving my fingers over the keys but not pressing anything. "Alright, we need to give her a motive as to why she needs to prove herself." I nodded along to his comments, trying to visualize our scene and simultaneously give our characters a back story, which would justify our character wanting to go in the haunted house.

"Maybe she's always had to prove herself? Like - maybe she doesn't believe what she saw, but she needs to prove she could go in there, not that she wants to." He nodded as I typed out a draft scene.

"We should be descriptive - we could go back to the beginning and add it to her character description, make it more believable." I was typing when suddenly, his hand reached out to grab mine. I jumped slightly from the action, but Tom only picked up my hands, examining them.

"What?" I asked. He shook his head, his thumb running over my fingernails.

"Your nails are blue." I shrugged. "Blue looks good on you. Fits you." I looked at him confused.

"How does blue... 'fit' me?" He shrugged, letting my hand go quickly and bringing his to scratch at the back of his neck.

"Blue is universally known to be a pretty calming color - and, I guess, you're, like, the embodiment... of that?" I smiled, cutting off his rambling with a hand on his shoulder. I pinched the fabric of his shirt and gestured toward it.

"Well, it suits you, too."

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