Colour Blind ✓

Ever since I was a young boy, I had never wanted a soulmate – I'd always questioned why things had to be difficult, why people couldn't just love who they love, regardless of the colour in which they saw they world – in rainbows or palettes of grey. I didn't mind the dull grey world – in fact, I kind of got used to it.

That is, until now. Now I can't get the image of startling blue eyes out of my head.

*

I'm in a rush – my sister's been waiting for me in the reception for a while now – and I'm not really looking where I'm going, which is why I run right into this guy at the top of the stairs and nearly send him tumbling backwards and careening down to his death.

I've never reacted so fast in my life, grabbing his hips and pulling him flush against my body to prevent his fall.

"Whoa," he breathes as he slams into my chest, his hands reaching up to clutch at my shirt.

I don't recognize him because of the hipster glasses currently balanced on his nose. However, when I glance at his face, I very nearly drop him again when familiar startling blue eyes meet with mine. The blue actually hurts my eyes because of the stark contrast with the monochrome surroundings, and I have to blink repeatedly to get used to the glare.

"Sorry, I can't really see where I'm going," he says, and then he bursts out laughing, chortling so hard I step back and stare at him in alarm, wondering what's so funny.

My eyes grow wide when he actually laughs himself out of breath, and fumbles in his hoodie pockets for an inhaler, puffing into it desperately.

When he can breathe again, he asks, glancing in my direction, "Are you still there?"

I feel a little amused as I frown in confusion at the question. "Uh, yeah?"

He laughs again and just like on the train, I see colour bleed into his face, turning his skin that beautiful golden brown, his cheeks flushed pink. My heart is about to beat out of my chest.

He waves a hand in front of his face. "I'm kind of blind. And I mean, blind blind, not just colour blind like everyone else. That was – uh, the joke," he laughs again, "Oh God, I love myself. I'm sorry, am I keeping you?"

"Kind of, yeah," I respond without thought, staring at him stupidly.

"Ah, right sorry," he says but he has a tiny smile on his face that's making my stomach do cartwheels. "I got a little lost in thought while climbing up the stairs, so I'm not sure what floor I'm on, could you maybe –?"

"Ah, right," I reply, glancing around, "Sixth floor."

"Thanks, dude! See you around then! Or not!" he smiles, giving me a tiny wave before continuing on his way up the stairs, walking with such confidence I forget for a second that he's blind.

"I can feel you staring!" he calls from the next flight of stairs with a soft chuckle, "don't worry, I know this building like the back of my palm! I'll be fine! No more slamming into rock hard chests, I promise." He leans over the railing, looks vaguely in my direction and winks.

I feel my face burn as hot as the sun.

When he disappears, the colour fades with him, and I feel the longing down to my bones.

*

I'm stepping out to go to the takeaway shops to get dinner when my neighbour steps out at the same time, a big Labrador following in his wake. I've been in the building for two weeks and I haven't really met my neighbours but –

But this is ridiculous!

He's got his hipster glasses on again and God, his freaking eyes, I was never going to get used to the blue glare after staring at so much grey for so long.