Hey guys! I guess I’m a bit late with this one, but I hope y’all enjoy it. It’s about White struggling with changes after Steve went and made her blush. Since we’re going back to the citrus scale, I also need to warn you that there’s a brief lemony scene between Yellow and Blue in here. Please enjoy!
Homeworld grew lighter after the blush had spread across White Diamond’s face. The atmosphere didn’t weigh as heavy; the sky became pinker. Her gems walked with their heads up. They would pause sometimes to admire a cloud floating by, chatting in pairs.
The gems that Yellow passed on her way saluted her. Caught in the midst of an illegal conversation, they snapped upright, beads of sweat popping onto their skin. “Greetings, My Diamond,” they would sputter.
“Relax. It’s a free day.” She continued.
Some waved to her, friendly as they held hands. Others stared. They only saw her if they had gotten in trouble, and if not that, not at all. One even reached out to her, as if to grasp a handful of her light. Yellow didn’t tell her that she would have another chance; that she intended walking this path many more times. Instead, she cast her in a temporary shadow, waved back, and moved along.
As Yellow approached the palace, White stood upon the balcony in a rare slump, hands securing the railing. Light, instead of radiating from her, came from the sun and was processed through her gem. Rather than a sterile glow, she created a nonchalant rainbow, flashing from her forehead. She would shift, change colors, facets bathed in red, or gold, or blue, or pink.
Yellow waved, drawing her attention.
White gasped and went inside as Yellow stepped into the main room. The Pearls were busy cleaning.
Corners still languished in dust. The silver chandelier overhead had surrendered some of its shine, its suspended shower of glass beads spotted and unpolished. The walls were marked where pictures used to hang, top corners having left puncture wounds. White removed them after Pink had disappeared, but even the indication of past photographs proved too much.
White stopped a few stairs from the floor, hand upon the banister. Her perfume cut the dusty air, smelling of delicate flowers and chemicals. Yellow recognized the faint floral smell from a bottle she had gifted her during Era One.
“I plan on adding some color to this room,” White said. She tapped her nails upon the banister. Its fresh polish undercut her flowers. “Now that I’ve come back after so long, I can’t stand all the white. It’s oppressive.”
“I’m just glad to see you out of your head.”
White smiled with fastened lips. “Follow me, won’t you?”
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