ASUNDER (I) : tmr newt

54: I'm Scrubbing

54 Dawn

"You didn't have to stay with me all night," I murmur the words clumsily into his chest, breathing in the sweet scent of freshly washed linen. Never have I known Minho to smell clean, and I have never minded before now. There is just something about cleanliness that sinks deep into my soul.

He sighs, pulling me in deeper towards his chest. I could lie here forever. At least until my bones turned to dust anyway. There is nothing that could make me leave this bed nor leave this space with Minho.

It is so small and tight, which I guess is what makes it perfect. Maybe due to its limits I crave it more. I wish to have the sunlight kiss my skin as I kiss his. That dream seems so far away. All I have ever known is this. Perhaps next time I wake up it will be in another unknown place.

My memories mean nothing. So long as I can find Minho again, I would do this whole thing over again.

"What's your favourite colour?" He asks me.

"Why do you ask?" The question strikes me as odd, especially since it's so out of place.

Especially since I am trying so hard to not say my least favourite. Which is red if anyone is keeping score, because that was the colour of mine and Michelle's blood on the floor of the Slammer. I try not to think about Ben.

"I've known you for two weeks Dawn," he sighs. "I mean, I get that time exists differently here, but still, that's shucking nothing. I want to know more about you."

I pause, letting his words sink in. Trying to think about them instead of Ben. He wants to more know about me. Not just the girl who kisses him in the forest at night nor all the drama which unfolds around us. There is not much time that exists in this place, and he wants to spend it with me. He doesn't just want my body, he isn't Ben.

"Brown," I tell him quietly.

He gives me an odd look. "That's a klunk colour, literally."

"It's my favourite." Brown is the colour of comfort. It is the tinge that stains the tables in the kitchen. The sweet smell soaks in the skin of my friends, after spending days digging in the Gardens and building in the Homestead. Brown is the colour I first saw when I came up on the first day. The first thing I noticed was the ground around the box, before it turned to grass.

Brown is the colour of Minho's eyes.

Ben's eyes aren't brown. I don't know what they are, but they aren't brown. His nails were though, from digging around in the dirt all day. That dirt is on me now.

"I thought you'd like something like fuchsia, or lime green." I doubt he has ever seen those colours. I know I haven't anyway, although I can still picture them clearly in my mind. "Brown is boring."

Maybe it is boring. I am all one for excitement, but there is something in me that feels attached to all that I have known. Do I want to leave this Glade? Yes, of course. However, do I want to leave all the people I love? Absolutely not.

"What's your favourite colour?" I ask him.

"Blue," he tells me.

"Why?"

He pauses, pulling me in closer to him. His arms are tight around me, and he buries his lips in my hair, if only for a second. I can hear his muffled words, and I can feel his chest hum with the sound of his voice.