A/N: This is my entry for the #loveshot Hook, Line & Twitter challenge for @Wattpad_Romance (UPDATE: I won first place. I'm still speechless) I do hope you guys like it! Don't forget to vote and drop me a comment if you do!
Enjoy! :) <3
EDIT: 20/06/15 - P.S. This story has now been edited based on comments and feedback - I hope it reads better now! =) <3
*
COLOUR BLIND
Twenty-two years, and the first colour I see is blue.
The amazing fact doesn't register at first; I'm staring at the stranger sitting on the opposite aisle of the train by the window and I'm thinking, wow, he's got the most beautiful blue eyes. They're so blue they make my heart skip a beat in my chest and my lips part with wonder, my breathing slightly accelerating. I think a little cheesily, that those blue eyes might actually be the most beautiful colour I've ever seen.
I know I'm blushing as I keep glancing his way, my heart beat going haywire underneath my ribcage. God, how can someone's eyes be so blue? I wonder in amazement, staring at him and feeling starstruck. He's currently laughing and playing with a huge Labrador clothed in a sweater. With the angles and seats in front of the dog, I can't really see what's written on the sweater it's wearing.
Wait.
Oh my God, his eyes are blue.
His eyes are freaking blue. I can see in colour.
I glance back at him in shock. The world around him is still black and white, and his bright blue eyes look so sharp in contrast to the dull grey-toned surroundings. They seem to pop out of the scene like a weird anomaly. The longer I keep staring, more colour bleeds into the picture before me.
First it's his hair – from a dull dark grey turns into a healthy dark brown. His face becomes paler, then richer, until colour bleeds into his skin in a lovely shade of tanned brown, his cheeks flushed, and lips full and rose pink.
The train stops and I'm too shocked to move. I watch, frozen in my seat as the guy quickly gets up, cooing at his dog and whispering something. The dog lets out one single bark, then they both make their way out of the train, the dog in front, the beautiful stranger taking all the colour right with him.
Without thinking, I'm on my feet and I'm trying to run after him. I barely make it half-way down the aisle when the next throng of people are shoving their way in because of the rush hour. The doors close, and I feel a disappointment so crushing, I lose the strength in my legs and collapse into a seat.
I look out the windows, trying to find his mop of slightly curly dark hair but he's gone. And for a brief second, the once white and black world has a tint of blue.
*
I can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop thinking about him.
Colour fades for most people at the age of six, at the latest seven. It's more than a little frightening seeing the colour slowly disappear from the world as you grow up, until all that's left is black and white. People only resume seeing colour again when they meet their soulmates.
According to fate, people normally meet their first soulmates very early in life, some as young as sixteen, eighteen being the popular age. I would see couples talking about how lovely the colours were in Autumn, the reds and browns and golds, or how green and yellow it was in summer, and they made everyone else who didn't have a soulmate yet feel like they were missing something. I absolutely hated that.
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.
"Hi," I say on impulse, and then feel like an idiot.
He frowns in my direction, like he's trying to place my voice.
"Stairs," I add, feeling even more stupid, but the way his face brightens makes me feel much better.
"The one with the chest of a body builder," he grins, and I blush. Jesus, I'm sure I've never blushed this much in my entire life. I notice that the sweater the dog is wearing says; 'Please don't pet me, I'm on duty' in bold black letters on the side. "You live here?" he asks as he locks his door.
"I – yeah. Right next door to you, actually."
"Sweet," he grins, and he looks right at me, that blue gaze piercing right through my heart. Bloody hell, is he sure he's blind? "My name's Harry by the way."
I cough lightly to clear the sudden log in my throat. "Reed."
"Where are you off to? If you're not busy, maybe you can tag along with me and Bree," he gestures at the Labrador. I blink, and the dog's fur turns golden blonde for a second, before the colour fades back to tones of grey. Harry's currently blushing and shifting slightly on his feet, and my stomach is back to doing cartwheels.
"Sure," I say. Who needs takeaway anyway?
His blue eyes brighten even more, and the sight makes my chest hurt.
*
"So what brings you to Loncanster?" he asks as we move down the street. "If it's not too nosy to ask that is," he laughs a bit, "I have no boundaries sometimes so I'll apologise now for all future discrepancies."
He's navigating the streets so effortlessly it makes me realize that he's probably lived here for a long time. His trust in Bree is implicit as the dog leads him bravely down the pavement.
I laugh, feeling warm. "I don't really have a reason, to be honest. I just finished my masters, so I thought I'd travel a bit. Find myself like all those cheesy rom-coms."
A woman walks past us. Her hat is yellow. I can't help but turn around and look at her, staring at the yellow hat, so bright in my grey world.
Harry laughs and I turn back to face him, feeling my breath hitch when I catch those blue eyes looking in my direction, "Oh yeah? So what did you study then?"
"Uh, Graphic design. I do have a degree in Architecture and another for interior design."
"Two degrees?" he glances again in my direction with a teasing smirk, and I nearly stumble over my feet at the piercing blue, "Swanky."
I laugh and roll my eyes, "what about you?"
An elderly man walks past. His shoes are dark brown. A little girl is clutching at his right hand and talking animatedly. Her dress is green.
"Well, I've lived here all my life. Got that apartment I stay in about a year ago. My mum gets a little overbearing sometimes because of the whole blind shebang, so I really got away so I could have some space. And maybe also prove that I can take care of myself."
"Swanky," I mock, and he laughs, reaching over to punch me playfully in the shoulder. "What are you doing in school then?"
He sighs and tilts his face up, staring in the direction of the sky. "Music. It's like – when I listen to music, I feel like I can almost see."
My heart throbs, and I know without a doubt that I'm going to fall in love with him.
*
His hair is like dark chocolate, healthy and curling into his face. Today he's wearing a bright purple shirt with a funny little green three-eyed alien on it, dark blue skinny jeans hugging his thighs and legs like a second skin, feet covered in light yellow vans. His entire person is like one big splotch of colour on the dull grey park bench. The colours still hurt my eyes, too bright to what I'm used to, yet I can't, for the life of me, stop staring.
"I may be blind, but I can still feel you staring you know," he suddenly says, his voice teasing.
I blush so hard I actually feel my cheeks burn as I look away in shame. "Sorry."
Harry shrugs but he's looking vaguely in my direction. We're sitting on one of the benches in the park and this has become a routine for nearly every day of the past month – me walking with him and his dog every evening. I feel like something's been brewing between us for the past month. Something wonderful and precious.
Bree is currently running around in the field, playing with the other dogs. She's the only one whose fur is a healthy golden blonde, the other dogs still grey and dull. I realize that the more time I spend with Harry, the more colour I see. Splotches of the grass is green. The sky turns blue at intervals before fading back to grey.
"Why do you stare anyway?" he abruptly asks and I turn to look at him, getting lost in his gaze.
You're the most perfect thing I've ever seen, is what I want to say but I say, "Because you're appealing to my eyes," instead and I blush at how lame and stupid that sounded.
He laughs predictably, even though his cheeks redden with a blush. He turns to look in the direction of his shoes coming off as shy, and I barely resist the urge to lean over and kiss him.
I used to roll my eyes and pretend to gag when my sister told me her favourite colour is dark brown, because that is the colour of her soulmate's eyes. But I'm beginning to understand what she meant now, because I'm pretty sure at the moment, my favourite colour is blue.
*
"There's fireworks tonight in the park. They're doing an annual bonfire or something. Do you want to come and watch it with me?" I ask nervously, and then I pause and nearly slap myself in the face. "Oh, oh, I'm so sorry. I forgot, I –"
Harry laughs and I'm glad he can't see that I'm blushing in mortification. I always do this. Two months spending time with him and I keep forgetting he's blind. Last week, I'd asked him to come and watch a movie with me. He'd said yes before I realized how stupid that was. And even when I'd expressed my horror, he'd laughed it off and said, I'd love to watch a movie with you, Reed, staring at me with those blue, blue eyes and I'd felt myself turn to mush, embarrassment forgotten.
We'd watched the movie with me whispering everything that was happening in his ear, to the annoyance of everyone in the theatre, but seeing him smile so wide, his blue eyes bright with joy and excitement, I couldn't feel bad about it one bit.
*
"Oh my God, there it is!" Harry yells, pointing outside the window of the cab.
"Where?" I ask excitedly, glancing in the direction he'd pointed to. He starts laughing and I feel my cheeks heat in mortification. "I fucking hate you."
His laughter only doubles, tears leaking out of his eyes as he searches in his jacket pockets for his inhaler. I think it's both cute and a little frustrating that he always nearly laughs himself into hyperventilating.
"No, you don't," he responds when he gets his breath back.
"No, I don't," I sigh, smiling softly at him while he beams like the wonderful idiot that he is.
*
My sister says that when you listen to someone's favourite music, it says a lot about them.
My eyes are closed, and listening to the music Harry has created, I feel like I know every inch of his soul. It's excruciatingly beautiful.
"What do you think? Yay or nay for my final piece?" he asks from across the room, smiling at me and rocking back and forth with excitement.
I grin back at him, my heart going haywire at the halo of colours behind him as a result of his sitting on the window sill, the sun shining behind him making him look like an angel.
"Definitely yay," I respond.
He smiles and if he notices that I take the iPod and earphones with me when I leave his house later, he doesn't comment on it.
*
Each time we go out together, after Harry has dropped Bree off at his parent's place downtown, Harry has to hold my elbow. The first times he'd done it, at the cinema and even during the fireworks, it had been out of necessity.
But this – this is different. He's got his cheek resting on my shoulder as we walk, both his hands wrapped around my right elbow as I lead us through the throng of bodies in the park, currently filled with a travelling fair.
My stomach is swooping with butterflies and my eyes are positively aching as the longer he holds onto me, not-so-subtlety rubbing his cheek against my shoulder, the brighter and more colourful the world becomes. The lights are yellow and gold and nearly blinding, the little stalls are a mix of reds and whites and blues, and the grass is a lovely shade of dark green as the sun begins to set.
Harry insists on playing most of the games, especially the 'throw the hoop over the bottle' ones, and it makes me shake my head even when my feelings are all going haywire.
Once, when he misses the hoops so many times and by so far off – he'd refused my help, as expected – the man behind the counter asks in exasperation, "Jeez, you're like the worst player I've ever had. Are you blind or something?"
I feel myself tense, but Harry bursts out laughing as he nods, "Why yes, I am blind."
The man sputters uncomfortably, and the way I'm glaring so hard at him makes him shrink in on himself as he apologises profusely. Harry waves him off, too forgiving, as usual.
The night continues like that, and I've nearly emptied all my pockets when Harry finally gets a hoop, winning himself a teddy bear that's nearly his height.
"Oh my God, please tell me it's pretty," he asks, voice breathy with excitement as he hugs the huge bundle of fur to his chest, my arm wrapped casually around his hip to steer him through the crowd.
"It's got a blue bow. It matches your eyes," I tease, nearly stumbling and falling when Harry suddenly stops walking.
I turn to look at him questioningly, and it takes me a second to realize what I'd just said.
"You can see in colour?" he asks, his voice quiet.
I hadn't wanted to tell him because I didn't want it to change anything. I didn't want him to like me because of the silly soulmate bull crap. I'd wanted him to like me for me. I know that makes me sound hypocritical, after all, it was the colour of his eyes that drew me in, but there it is.
"I think you should take me home," he says when I don't respond, taking my lack of answer as confirmation. It feels like my heart plummets down to the floor at the lack of emotion in his voice.
*
I feel like throwing up as the cab drives us home in silence.
The colours are fading and appearing in rapid intervals, and it's giving me a headache, so I close my eyes against it. We finally arrive at our apartment complex, and Harry waits for me outside the cab as I pay the driver.
The minute I lead him into the reception, he snatches his arm away from me and stalks into the building, knowing his way around as he makes for the lifts.
I follow after him, managing to get inside before the doors shut.
He only resumes speaking when we get to our floor, spinning around to stare in my direction and for once, those blue eyes are cold and don't make me feel warm and happy anymore.
"At a young age, I was told that I was never going to find my soulmate," he said, "something about my blindness affecting the stupid pheromone dance that causes the colours to appear or something. Have you been leading me on? Do you have – do you –?" his voice breaks, and he turns and flees towards his room.
"Harry! Wait, please!" I call out, trying to follow after him.
"I don't want to talk to you," he growls back, fumbling for his keys and then he's disappearing into his apartment.
I watch the grey creep back into my vision, the colour bleeding out of the surroundings until my world is once again black and white.
*
I open my apartment door and Harry is standing there. It's been nearly a week since he'd started avoiding me. Nearly a week of me being back in my white and black world.
The sight of his intense blue eyes makes me feel like crying.
He shifts nervously on my front step, eyes darting away towards the corridor, his hands wringing in front of him.
"Blue," I whisper.
He turns to glance at me, frowning in confusion. His lips are rose pink and a splotch of colour appears on his nose.
"What?" he asks.
"Twenty-two years, I've seen this world in black and white. The first colour I saw was blue."
"I – Reed," he begins, licking his lips. His tongue is pink.
"They were your eyes. The colour I first saw."
He stares in my direction, mouth parted with shock. Strands of his hair begin to turn dark brown.
"I – you're lying," he whispers with disbelief.
"I'm not. You're – you're the only one."
There's a brief silence, and then he says, "You've never asked me about – about my vision."
I shrug, even though he can't see me. "I felt you'd tell me when you wanted to."
He smiles and with that one action, more colours bleed into the picture. His shirt is a very light shade of pink. "I can see. Well, I can't really see, but everything's kind of like really, really dark shadows. It's a little annoying really, because I can't make out anything but dark shapes in a world of darkness. And then I met you and – well, the dark shadows turned into swirls of colour."
I stare at him in shock, and he laughs wetly, his eyes brimming with tears.
"It – it didn't happen a lot, when I was with you, it like, came and went. So I thought it was a fluke. But then – I haven't seen the – the colours since the fair."
I can't believe what he's saying. I'm breathing so hard my chest hurts. Harry stares in my direction with an expression I can't decipher and before I can say Jack Robinson, he's shoving forward and kissing me. He misses my mouth, kissing my nose instead and he laughs, making the situation not feel awkward as he cups my face in his hands and joins our lips properly together.
I can't breathe and I can feel my heart pounding in my eardrums. Bombs of colour explode behind my eyelids as our lips mould softly against one another's.
He pulls away with a soft sounding smooch. Almost instantly, colour spreads so fast into the world around me it hurts.
"Oh God, Reed, do you know what this means?" he asks with that mischievous glint in his eyes that tells me he's about to make a really bad joke, "I'm colour blind."
"Oh my God," I whisper in disbelief.
"I'm blind but I can see swirls of colour, get it? Colour blind? Ah, the irony," he laughs himself to tears, burying his face in my neck as he struggles to take in air. This time, he doesn't laugh himself into an asthma attack, thank God. "Colour blind," he sighs when he's done laughing, "Jesus, this is comedy gold."
"Shut up, Harry," I reply, thinking, I love him, God, I fucking love him.
"You like my jokes," he teases, bumping our shoulders together.
"No, I like you," I grumble back without thinking and I feel my cheeks heat at the confession.
His smile turns soft. "I like you too, Reed."
My sister would probably laugh and tease me for the rest of my life at my cheesiness, but I can't help but think that at that moment, as I stare into those beautiful blue eyes, all is right with the world.
THE END.