Colors || Emie & Mare
âI didnât imply that you meant bad justâŠ.youâre right, people usually do. I donât. I feel safer in the black. Itâs brighter to me.â She mutters, shaking the can of orange and looking to Emieâs rose she was working on, back to the bird to add another streak of the orange against itâs belly. She scrunched her nose at her words, the mix of flavors, making her pause to look at her with that scrunch. She couldnât say anything to it, only a slow and deliberate shake of her head and the look of disbelief in her eyes, though it was jest more than it wasnât. Marley couldnât mix those two flavors, they belonged separate and orderly and delicious. She nodded though, at the need for white. âWhite and black next time. The cement helps a little for white but you have to take the image in your mind and flip it to see where not to paint so you donât screw it up because you canât get that cement back if you douse it in a color, itâs gone.â She mutters, obviously talking about taking into account the places white was needed for details and accents, it was a lot of seeing a few steps ahead. Marley dropped her hand after another stroke of orange, happy enough but more concerned with subway times and she crouched down to snap the lids on the cans she was done with, tucking them back into Emieâs bag before she heard and looked up to jade eyes, then to the bird on the wall. Her head shook though just as quickly. âNo name. Doesnât need one from me.â She tells her, standing back up and rubbing the palms of her hands on her jeans to rid them of that fine layer of paint dust.
She listened to her words, processed them to keep them in her mind, but she didn't have anything to add. They were Marley's words, Marley's feelings and she respected that. She wasn't lost to the shake of her head, however, when she mentioned the mix of flavors and she couldn't help the slight smirk that formed on her lips, though her eyes didn't leave the lines of paint she was spraying. Emie nodded as the girl spoke again and she'd be sure to bring both white and black next time, seeing so clearly what Marley was talking about as jade eyes scanned over the rose in front of her. She picked up on the soft rattle of cans, adding just a few minor touches with the yellow before she handed it to Marley, letting her eyes go to the bird instead. Hearing her words, she thought more deeply, knowing that a name was irrelevant. She was just a bird painted onto concrete, but she hoped that she lasted in someone's mind. That was the point of being here, in the dark tunnels that ran under the city, in places people passed by every day, but didn't see- too lost in the paper, or their phones, something other than what was going on around them. But for the little kids that still looked out the subway windows, for the heatbroken woman who let teary eyes wander, for the broke, drunken man who took shelter in here when it rained...she hoped they named that little bird that dared to shine in the darkness, hope the found hope in the rose that dared to grow through the concrete. "You're right." she tells her, bringing focus to jade eyes as she reached for her bag, feeling the slightest shake form under her boots. "Time to go."
