𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚 ◦◈◦ 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐬.

𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦

Orange.

Coral.

Peach.

The color of energy, of vitality, of warmth.

You wondered what it was like.

Even though you had no ability to see it, you knew that feeling, the one of safety that one feels when the world around them seems lively. It's like everything is filled with life: the air, the sun, the trees, the birds. Even other people seem more enthusiastic than usual.

Today was thankfully one of those days where flowers sang and smiles bloomed.

"[l/n], just the usual?" a soft voice hummed, and you nodded.

"You know me, Kagayaku," you chuckled, "I'm not one for change."

She scoffed playfully. "You were 'one for change' when we added [favorite food] to the menu."

"That's an exception, I would change any day for [favorite food]!"

Kagayaku thought you were perhaps the oddest person she'd ever met.

She often found herself looking forwards to your presence, given that you would have the most interesting conversations. She was surprised, on the first day you met, about how you complimented the tea the café she worked in prepared. You didn't say "it's so good!", or "I love the flavor".

No, you said something truly peculiar.

"It tastes like purple."

She had to bite her tongue to prevent herself from stammering some half-thought of response. It tastes like purple?

"Actually... there's a hint of green."

You didn't even look up to meet her gaze; you just kept sipping the warm liquid, and commented on it using words she didn't understand, not because they were foreign but because they had no logical sense. She supposed you must've been crazy, or had some screws loose, since it was the only logical explanation to someone calling their tea "purple".

"Is... is the flavor good, do you like the tea, ma'am?" she asked, baffled with the way you were acting. As a waitress, she'd met quite a few different types of people but this was not one of them.

"It's lovely," you smiled, yet it was a concerning smile. You were grinning to the wall, your head not moving an inch even though she was on your right side. "Could I perhaps order another cup?"

You weren't showing any signs of being a threat, just a bit odd, so she didn't think to try to kick you out. For now, she would smile, take your order, and prepare another cup just as you asked.

"Would you like the same flavor as this one?" she asked for confirmation, but you only shook your head.

"I'm not an expert on tea," you laughed. "Could I get your recommendation? Please, just prepare me whatever you enjoy the most. I'm not picky."

After she'd stumbled into the back of the shop to prepare something for you, she brought back a cup of tea she thought might be pleasant. After all, she didn't want a dissatisfied customer, she was still a waitress who needed money.

You had described this cup as orange.

"It's not orange flavored," she had chuckled nervously, to which you had let out a full, contagious laugh.

"No, no, not 'orange', like the fruit. I meant the color," you had clarified as though it made more sense that way.

"Pardon me, but I don't fully understand."