The world had always been dark for him. He wasn't bitter about it. It was just the way things were. He subsisted on sounds and tastes and feelings.
"So you have no idea what colors are like?"
He shook his head. No. He knew their names...but not really what they were like.
She was the opposite. If color could be described as a person, it would have to be her. He'd never met anything like her. Her voice, her hands, her personality.
This must be color, he thought.
He could almost feel her thinking...could sense it. He'd gotten very good at picking up on what people were doing, over the years.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked her.
"Oh, nothing," she said, after a moment, but he knew that wasn't true. He let it go. She'd tell him eventually; she always did.