Monochromatic.
That was the very first word Mitchell could think of as his vision readjusted itself.
White walls. White lit sheets. White flooring. White hospital uniforms.
So colorless.
Mitchell hated this room. Dreaded every seconde being in this room bleached of color; the only signs of life being the scribbling of a forgotten arc en ciel on the far wall.
Red. Orange. Yellow. Green. Blue. Indigo. Violet.
The couleurs of life. The couleurs Mitchell had long wanted to be basked in after his admittance from the hospital. couleurs he long missed after years of wandering around par himself. couleurs that he'll never...
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