Hmm that’s fair I think I was trying to hard to work with a pitch I wasn’t fully intune with, actually if you don’t mind may I propose an alternative? 

I’ve had more time to think about it and as an art student it would almost fit her better to see people’s colors, to be able to steal them to cover up the fact that she’s painted grey. She used to have color, or so she imagines but the stress of succeeding where her mother had failed, to break away from the toxic cycle of home that drains her of any bright emotion, the place that consumes her consciousness with its suffocating embrace of apathy and decay. Jealous of the bright patterns that seem to swirl and follow others she craves it, that true brightness instead of the happy plaster she tries to paint herself to towards others. So she steals their colors, their joys, sadness, anything to hide the black weeping into her skin. But it never last, fleeting, every time she steals someone’s color she paints them black making them give into their darker thoughts and inner emotions, the longer she wears the color the harder it is for her to change it, so she slowly becoming a muddy brown that’s seeping into her mind confusing her as to what she really feels.