Delightful Yet Poisonous

Chapter 11: Oh Colorful World

~ Seriously though, what the hell was mauve? Could you eat it? Did it mean "extra hairy"? Just. WHAT. ~

Rule 1. ALL men see in only 16 colors, like Windows default settings. Peach, for example, is a fruit, not a color. Pumpkin is also a fruit. We have no idea what mauve is.

A pile of clothes was adorning their usually neatly made bed. Tifa had already folded half of them, so Cloud figured that she could use a little help with the rest (he could be nice when he wanted). Of course, never in his life had he thought that the process of folding clothes with women could be so darn difficult. It was as though women talked in codes, just to spite poor men like him. Especially Tifa seemed to be very good at doing that.

"Could you please hand me that peach-colored shirt?"

Cloud blinked. "The what," he asked, although it came out more like a statement.

"The peach one? You know, the one near your right hand," Tifa explained, only briefly looking away from her task while doing so.

"Oh... Sure."

Peach. Who would have ever thought that? Cloud just figured that he didn't spend enough time with women to know that fruit was a way to compare colors. Did his mother use to do the same thing? Cloud tried to remember, but it was of no use.

"And the pumpkin and charcoal one too," Tifa then said.

He scratched the back of his head, looking at the pile of clothes, before grabbing another orange-colored shirt and a blue one to hand it over to his fiancé. That action, however, only earned him a funny look.

"Cloud, I said charcoal, not cerulean."

"Right. My bad." Apparently.

"So uh... Which one of these is the charcoal one again?" he asked eventually.

The corners of Tifa's mouth lifted upwards in the tiniest of smiles, before reaching over for a black shirt. The ex-SOLDIER frowned. Why couldn't she just say black instead? He really felt kind of stupid right now, even if Tifa didn't tease him about it.

"Oh, could you fold the mauve one for me?"

"Excuse me?"

Okay, so maybe if he had paid closer attention, he could have guessed what color charcoal was. But mauve? Seriously? He had never thought that was an English word...until now.

Tifa sighed. "Alright, that's enough helping from you for today. Maybe you can help the kids with their homework instead?"

"Sure."

With other words, Tifa was only shooing him away because he was no help. He could live with that, eventually.

Seriously though, what the hell was mauve? Could you eat it? Did it mean "extra hairy"? Just. WHAT.

Who in the world would go and say, "Hey, that's a nice strawberry dress you're wearing! It really matches those cherry shoes"!?

And now that they were on the subject, what exactly was the difference between peach and pumpkin? Both were orange if you asked him. But nobody asked him. Why not use light-orange, orange, and dark-orange? Heck, if you really wanted to be precise, you could use the word semi too. Anything but fruit and veggies.

To add insult to injury, Tifa only spoke in riddles (not Tifanese, obviously, because he could at least guess what she was talking about when she was using Tifanese language against him) and he wasn't quite sure if she was doing that on purpose or not. If she was...then she was as horrible as Yuffie when she was on a strict, sugar-only diet.

When he came downstairs, he saw that the two children were still sitting at a table, doing their homework.

Cloud knew what to do now, before he'd treat himself on a well-deserved beer. "Hey, Denzel. Do you have a mauve shirt?"

The boy in question frowned and looked up from the piece of paper he was scribbling something on. A puzzled look appeared on his face when he asked, "What's mauve?"

Cloud nodded, giving him a pat on the back as if the boy had said something to be proud of. "Exactly."

Denzel blinked and watched his retreating back. "Huh?"