Chapter 13 – Colors
Weaver
Selene was already at Dawn's when Francis and I entered the café the following day. She was busily typing at her netbook, a cup of brewed coffee that had since gone cold and an untouched croissant still on a tray next to her mouse.
A croissant? That was not her usual fare.
Selene obviously did not bother with her appearance that morning. She was in faded jeans and an even more faded purple intramurals shirt she'd had from third grade. Her green shoes with their tribal design clashed with the rest of her outfit. Her hair was twisted messily at her nape with most of the strands escaping the knot and falling around her face. Her glasses were askew on her nose, useless since she was looking above the spectacles.
She had not stopped to take a sip of her coffee or a bite of her bread. Instead, she chewed on her lip and a frown creased her forehead. She'd clench her fists every once in a while before she rapidly typed on her keyboard again. It was unlike how I'd seen her before where she'd be pausing every now and then to stare at a distance as she pulled ideas from her imagination then take a minute to focus and translate the images into words.
No pauses today.
Just the frowning, lip-biting glazed look. In fact, the girl looked a bit crazed.
But in my eyes, she looked like the brilliant weaver I had seen last night. Her eyes were glowing emeralds, her hair was dark coal cascading around her like a cloistering mantle and her lips were sweet caramel tempting to be tasted. She was weaving beautifully even in wakefulness.
I had woken up frustrated earlier. The last thing I remembered was Selene smiling at me, choosing me in her dream. She chose me over that infuriatingly perfect brother of mine. Then the world had shifted and I was back in the mortal realm, conscious. I had tried to get back to sleep and find the tunnel to return to her, but it had been futile.
And I realized that Selene was already awake.
I immediately got out of bed knowing where she'd be heading. I didn't expect it to be a problem to get the incessantly animated Francis out of bed at five in the morning, but it was harder to drag Francis out of the cocoon of blankets than it had been to find the tunnels to my nightmares.
I decided to haul my brother to the bathroom, blankets and all, and turn on the shower, letting the cold heavy spray shock the kid awake. Francis was the most disgruntled I had seen him since he'd been formed, not just in this world, but in ours.
For a second, I thought I glimpsed fiery versions of the usual pale wings, but they disappeared the moment Francis adjusted the water temperature and started belting out the latest song by Pharrell Williams.
After ten minutes of agony, I considered leaving Francis behind and heading to the café alone, but as keen as I was to see Selene, I also needed my younger brother as an...
Excuse? A reason to be there to watch her without looking like a stalker?
It was odd, all these unnecessary considerations. I had never felt uncertain before. I had never felt nervous. I had never experienced these butterflies in my gut.
And as I impatiently waited for my brother, it struck me. I was looking at the sunrise and I saw her brilliance in red, her imagination in yellow, her wisdom in green and even her rousing depression in blue. I had never dealt with all these colors. Everything had been pretty black and white with touches of grey.
And now as I sat at the other side of the diner, watching her as she rendered her visions into words, I saw all her colors fuse and she looked more incredible than any dream deity I'd met in my endless existence.