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Summary
“Violet.”
Clementine grins, taking the chalk from Violet’s hand. “Like the flower?”
“More like the colour of a bruise.”
“That’s the first thing we have in common, then. We’re secondary colours on the colour wheel.”
In which Clementine's outspokenness earns her detention, but it's not the end of the world considering she meets an interesting character with too many colourful pins and a brighter smile to match.
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Bookmark Notes:
fantastic.
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Bookmark Notes:
Complete
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Bookmark Notes:
S tier hall of fame literally the 1 twdg fic i come back to read. God bless violentine
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Bookmark Notes:
Yes