I have just read an entire book on fairy lore and let me tell you it gave me the worst headache of my life…so far.

-:-
It's called Color Hearing. Perhaps one in a thousand has that.
-Vladimir Nabokov.

The Use of Color-:-

Yellow blotting paper. That's the first thing Erik sees when he wakes up with—so far—the worst headache he has ever had. Or is it a hangover?

Red cloth infused with black silk. It is a very strange thing to wake up, not knowing where you are or how you got there. Even more-so when you're the Goblin King and are really supposed to be immune to such humanistic things as alcohol intoxication and feeling pain from something so simply as light streaming in through a window that Jareth knows for a fact is on the wrong side of the room as his window is further to the right.

Two fingers touch. At first, each of the men think that the feeling of something warm pressed against their hand might turn out to give them a decidedly wonderful morning to make up for the headache pounding along the linings of their eyes, the neurons that make up their brains and all the muscles they are aware of as of yet.

Not the case.

Seventeen steps for each staircase. A thick door with a sign "Stalking Isn't Sexy" eternally taped to the wood. Two little ladies and a small goblin look up at the ceiling at a loud scream that seems to echo.

Black and brown chocolate. The goblin Gip blinked once and went back to chewing on the M&Ms Lady Sarah gave him for putting sleeping pills in Lord Jareth and the O.G.'s beers last night while they were arguing with Javert and James over the football game playing live in Atlantic city in their apartment.

A sort of rosy pink and ultra violet glance. Christine and Sarah's hands met swiftly and with untapped happiness at their sort of spur of the moment's plan gaining them something to smile about before they had to take a test later that morning.