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You're My Yellow

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“It’s easy to say why I always wear blue, don’t you think so?” Evan asked Connor, or so the boy thought, because Evan’s gaze was distant and it was easy to say he wasn’t really there. He was far, far away. It was unusual for him to be so calm; his eyes were halfway closed, his breathing was slow, almost as if he was sleeping; he was totally relaxed, sitting on the grass. It amazed Connor how many sides of Evan there really were; he was used to the boy’s anxiety, fidgeting, shaky hands, to his stuttering and trembling and panicking. But this was something he’d rarely ever seen; Evan was melancholic, nostalgic, maybe; Connor couldn’t really say.

“I don’t know, Evan,” he said truthfully. He didn’t get all these colors Evan would sometimes refer to while looking at things or people.

“I do. Blue looks like sky, and sky is far beyond my reach. I’ve always wanted to touch the sky. I’ve always wanted something I couldn’t get, I wanted freedom and all the things I didn’t have. Some people say that blue means sad, but I don’t know if I really agree with them. I mean, what is so sad in being free from the world? We can’t control anything, you know. Misery, love, rage, but there, high in the sky, maybe we could. Be free, do what we want, control what we want.”

Connor looked at Evan’s eyes. There was some faint light deep behind them, showing that all the words came from the corner of his mind no one had ever seen before, and Connor couldn’t help feeling dumb. He wasn’t that much of a deep thinker himself, and for him it was always incredible what Evan was capable of keeping inside his brain.

Evan sighed deeply and let his head fall onto Connor’s shoulder. At first, he used to be too nervous and uncomfortable to do that, but it grew to be their small routine and neither of them complained about it.

“You, on the other hand, shouldn’t wear so much black,” Evan declared and Connor knew he didn’t say it to hurt him; it was just how he was. When he had fought his anxiety, he was always honest, but there was meaning to every one of his words. “You look beautiful in it, but it makes you look like a black hole. To me, it doesn’t fit you. It’s like… like you are an optimistic black hole. You look like that, but inside, inside you’re more yellow. I think you’re my yellow.”

Connor actually chuckled and he hated himself for not being able to suppress it. But it was just so out of his character, yellow? Yellow was never his color, it was too positive for him.

“Seriously, Evan? Where do I look like a yellow person to you?”

Evan looked up, obviously studying his eyes, but buried deep in his own thoughts. “When we first met, I was afraid of you, somehow. You really were a black hole. But you showed how much you actually had inside, you know? With your every smile and your kindness and your words, when I learned who you actually were, who you are , I’ve realized that yes, you are my yellow. And I love it, I love your yellow, I love you.”

Confessions were pouring from Evan like water and that left Connor honestly shocked. But it wasn’t uncomfortable or annoying, because Connor felt pretty much the same, even though he wasn’t as poetic as Evan.

“I think I like this rare side of you,” he said in the tone barely above the whisper, breathing in the scent of Evan’s fluffy blonde hair. The boy moved and was literally sitting on Connor’s lap, his back still pressed to Connor’s chest. Evan took his boyfriend’s arms and wrapped them around himself, making himself comfortable. It was good.

“By the way,” Connor started, his voice deadly serious, and maybe that was what made Evan’s nervousness come back for a little moment, “I love you too. I’m not as good with words as you, but I need you to know it. I don’t know that thing about colors, but I can say that you helped me through a lot and I appreciate that and I appreciate you so much. It’s never easy with me, but you decided to stick around, and you were my first real friend, and I love you so, so much. And thank you. For all you’ve done and all you’ve said.”

That was the last confession for that evening. After it, both of them fell silent, still closely cuddled against each other. If anyone saw them right at that moment, it would be easy to say how deep were their feelings towards each other.

But eventually, they had to (very reluctantly) go home, do their own things and live their own lives they still had when they weren’t together.

Of course, the next day they would meet up again. It was their routine by then, the presence of each other was pretty much everything they needed to live, and even though it wouldn’t always help them with their problems, it still gave them a glimmer of hope.

The next day it was raining and the sky wasn’t blue. It was trapped by heavy gray clouds. Evan looked at it with a frown forming on his face. He hated that kind of weather. There was nothing to do; it was summer, but he couldn’t go outside if he didn’t want to catch a cold. So he had to stay home, away from the nature and fresh air (well, as fresh as it could get in the city), which made him feel a little down. The only sight of beautiful trees he could get was in the TV, and it wasn’t really optimistic for him.

Looks like I’ll be getting just another boring day , he had thought just mere seconds before the doorbell rang.

Feeling his hands begin to sweat, he approached the door. He didn’t expect anybody, his mother wasn’t home, he was all alone, what if it was a murderer or something? Or worse, what if it was someone he’d have to interact with?

He was close to crying when he opened the door.

He sighed with relief when he saw a familiar person in front of him; not a murderer, not anyone else. It was just Connor. And his shirt was yellow.

They smiled at each other and suddenly something changed and the day, which was bound to be boring before, was another day full of happiness and love and affection and, the most important, yellow.