Paint Splattered Teardrops

If someone had told Amity a while ago that a person could get over emotional over nothing; she wouldn't have believed them.

However now,
She stared at the woman sitting across from her. Crying and bawling her eyes out. Out of absolute nowhere when a few minutes ago, Amity was sure they'd been getting along.

The Blight had noticed the brunette sitting alone at the back of the room at the beginning of the statue making masterclass and thought that it was probably a good idea to befriend her.

But now? Said brunette was sniffling and wiping her eyes. Paintbrush with the faint of yellow on its tip clutched tightly, wavering slightly as the woman's hands got shaky.

Was it something she said? Did she do something wrong? Looks like Amity really needed to get her social life checked.

The statue in between them both laid forgotten.

" 'm sorry," the Latina sniffed out. "It's just the colour." Amity raised an eyebrow at that comment.

The woman in front of her smiled weakly; "Yellow makes me cry."

'Okay,' Amity thought to herself. 'Something is definitely going on with her.'

Although she'd usually give half-baked comfort words, strangely, Amity felt the dire need to comfort the sobbing woman in front of her. What's wrong with her?