The sky was grey, as though the current oil spill was filtering into the sky, as well as the sea. The boy's stormy eyes looked out through the coffee shop window, watching as the clouds spilled over the misty sky. He could only see the people on the street as extremely slow blurs, all of them simple a collosal band of hideously fluid people, each of them swaying to their own walk. But one girl fell out of this montrosity, and wore a grim smile on her face. Her hair was tied to the side, and the white sundress that she was wearing was now ruined from the slight drizzle outside. She sat down opposite the boy and smiled. The boy simply stared at her, emotion avoiding him at all cost, and her bright happiness seemed to drain away within that one, cold, ignorant boy.
OK, so I have no idea where this came from, it literally just came from my fingertips. Petrol, when spilt, spread everywhere and tries to infect everything with it's oil (obviouly, it is a fluid), so I decided that I would use the boy in this paragraph as my representation as Petrol, and she was every good thing in the world.
Next colour - forest green.