a month passed.
Cynthia learned many things about Amanda, how her favorite flowers were daisies. how she couldn't see, but wore mostly purples - if her friends weren't the ones to buy them. her mother and father had been fighting for years, and she was mad at the world for making them their colors instead of someone they would actually fall in love, and stay in love with.
Amanda could fall in love with gray. she fell in love with the color every single day. she fell in love with the dark and the dullness. gray was a normal, it was a constant, she didnt have to guess if she would see it when she woke up every morning. change was scary, it kept her up at night worrying of what to come. obsessing over her timeline, though she only had the first 26 parts.
she longed for color though. she wished she could see the rainbows her friends wore and the diversity intertwined with them.
on weekends, she would paint. she bought colors she couldn't see. reds and blues, purples, greens, and yellows. the names were beautiful to her, songs she could hear only as a whisper.
she painted on Saturdays until the sun set, she painted when the sun rose, no matter the time between the two. her fingers would bleed into the paint, and people said her blood was red, so she would find the grays that matched and painted her body onto the canvas, then covering it in the specific gray. she longed to connect to the percentage of the world she deemed as beautiful, unique, creative, cool.
she wanted to be like them, apart of a society where only people with the fullest hearts could belong.
she was lonely for something she had never seen, felt, created.
she had fallen in love with something she had never seen, felt, created.
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Cynthia found it funny, how you could tell if something was created by a colorblind person, by either how all of the colors are random and missmatching, uncoordinated, or how everything is gray. the same exact shade of gray.
colorblind people were amusing to her, a no-longer-color-blind-person.
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Cynthia didn't want to fall in love with Amanda. love was just a cause of the color, not something to keep up with. falling in love just seemed pointless. life would be easier if you could see the color without the person attached, it sounded less complicated.
she could fall in love with Amanda. obviously, considering she was her color; but also, because she was deep and caring she loved animals and respected other people no matter how much they don't deserve it. she looked out for everyone. she was a good person. someone who could be fallen in love with, but love wasn't something cyn wanted, wasn't something she cared for. Amanda was desperate to be loved, it wasn't a shared interest and Cynthia had the control here. falling in love, from her point of view, is messy and heartbreaking. one day she won't see color, but she would rather have to give color rather than color and a soulamate, it would hurt less. her mother has had more than enough time to cope, and she still has nightmares and wears her late husband's clothes, still cries herself to sleep and has his shoes in the closet. she hasn't wanted been able to get rid of ehat she had left of him. Cynthia didn't want to have something to hold onto if she would have to let go. she didn't want to be with her only for her to leave. she didn't want to risk it.
and besides, Amanda Park and Cynthia James lived three thousand miles apart, they weren't really set into each others paths, they just crossed for a split second.
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no one talked about the longing of color, no one spoke of what it's like to be searching for something only your eyes can find. no one talked of the fear of never finding color. it was an unspoken phobia ninety nine point nine percent of the world possessed. because the fear crippled them all and fear is weakness.
if you gained sight, you were bound to lose, either your vision or your life.
what was there now to fear?
everyone is terrified of color. not because it in and of itself is scary, but because it coming meant you could lose love, lose the person who kept you going, moving, living.
color meant you could emotionally die, or physically. depending on who died first.
ironic isn't it? how everyone searched for something they were so very scared of. looking at so many different faces hoping to find the one who will kill them. living blind waiting to see only to wish it to have never happened once it left. wishing, for their own demise. every eleven eleven, fallen eyelash, dandelion, and shooting star. they were wishing to die. wishing for the thing that would kill them.
well, most people.
before last month, Cynthia didn't want color, she had already experienced it's wrath and anger. she didn't wish for it to come sooner, but for it to never come.
everyone's world revolves around color at one point or another. everyone heart breaks because of it too.
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ironically.
Cynthia findings is the biggest part of her life. she has found color, found who her love is and no one knows. unless there was another f.b.i. agent watching her too. nahh.
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authors note-
I'm going to edit this chapter in the future to make all chapters >1000 words
YOU ARE READING
miss federal beuro of investigation (color au)
Romantikalternate reality where you don't see color until you see your soulmate, and color leaves when they die - only an fbi agent now sees color after monitoring a stranger half way across the world.
