Chapter Text
//quick note regarding the whole work: sentences without quotation marks in 1st person are thoughts of the character. I wasn't able to do it in italics because I'm a bit stupid. But the story isn't as stupid as I am!
Have fun!//
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It was cold.
Autumn just started to wash over the British isles, bringing their nature a whole variety of warm colours, as if it was an invisible brush painting every single leaf in shades of red, orange, gold, and perhaps light brown here and there to add to its magic.
Wind encircled the country, and left the citizens with only one option, which was to start shopping for clothing that would finally keep them warm. Of course, that wasn't all to this season of the year. Underneath the pale blue English sky, one could always see different colours of umbrellas protecting people from the rain which could fall every five seconds and then, sadly for some, fortunately for others, stop. It was unpredictable, that English weather. Everybody knew that. But its endless skies and majestic seas were always gorgeous to its people - shining at its finest, all shades of blue visible at once, waves dancing around under the tight grip of wind.
But for Arthur Kirkland, it was grey.
Since he was only a small child, he was never able to experience that magic of blue that people around him talked about. Not all of them, of course - some sighed with him and stared at the dull sky, waiting for some kind of force from above to gift them with the colour.
His mother always told him: "One day, when you meet a special person, you will see it, too. It will be beautiful, magical, and it will last forever." But he never believed those words. His mind kept telling him that he would end up alone, and that the sky would always be so sorrowful.
When he was in his teenage years, surviving through high school, he looked everywhere, absolutely everywhere, to find that mysterious person that would make him see the colour. Yet he was, apparently, impossible to find. Arthur didn't want it to a be a girl, he really didn't. Though he had always been good friends with a few girls, he just couldn't see himself spending the rest of his life with them, kissing them and doing all the other things lovers do. But when it came to boys, it was different. He hated himself for being like that, for being a minority, but there was nothing he could do about it.
He just had to wait for the person to come into his life unexpectedly and turn everything upside down. And he was scared, incredibly scared that it would never happen.
Arthur was now twenty three years old, living in his lonely little apartment in the center of Brighton - stuck in the crowd, but always alone.
His best friends were a paper, a pen and a laptop. Writing was his everything. He wrote as if he was running out of time, all day and all night, in a constant whirlwind of thoughts, stories, poems, different worlds and dimensions.
It was clear to say that Arthur lived in a story. And he didn't wait for some random person on the streets to show him the true colour of the skies and seas - he created it himself. Perhaps he didn't see it, but he could imagine it, and imagination was what still kept him going, kept him alive. There were times when he wanted to give up on everything, but it never even occurred to him he could stop writing. At this point, he only left the house when it was obligatory, like going to the store, and didn't enjoy other people's company whatsoever. And when writing wasn't an option, he could easily spend hours and hours stuck in another universe of an already finished book by another author.
He didn't want to give that up for anything or anyone.
But what Arthur Kirkland didn't know was that one simple September morning was going to change his entire life in the strangest, stupidest, but the best way possible.
Still, was it really for the better?
- - -
"See, the right one is certainly much more efficient!"
"But the left one is prettier."
"Alfred, we are not looking for aesthetic appeal, but how well it is going to work, alright?"
"Matt, you know nothing. It's all about appeal, ain't it?"
So the banter went on. Two American brothers by the names of Alfred and Matthew stood in the center of the supermarket for the past fifteen minutes, and it was all because they couldn't agree on whether it was more important for a bread knife to be pretty or useful. And the argument kept going, each of them giving reasonable - or if it was Alfred speaking, unreasonable - arguments for which one to spend their money on.
People couldn't help but give them strange looks.
"Ugh, how do I ever smack some sense into you?" Matthew, the older brother, was already fuming, rolling his eyes at his stubborn sibling.
The two usually got along really well, and rarely fought, but sometimes Alfred was just too ridiculous to deal with. His intriguing, but such impossible ideas always brought some light into the family. He had a positive outlook on life twenty four hours a day, and Matthew couldn't understand how a person could stay that happy despite everything happening in life. It just seemed so unrealistic.
"You can't do that, I'm senseless", Alfred smirked and, once Matthew wasn't looking for just one second, swapped the boring looking bread knife for the one he liked better. Truth be told, he didn't really care about which one they were going to get - it was just a simple kitchen object, anyway - but it was important for him to have fun at all times. Even at the worst moments, his job was to keep everyone positive and to cheer everyone up.
"Oh for fuck's sake, Alfred, the green one is better!" Matthew gave him a sharp glance and switched the items in the shopping cart in two quick movements.
"The green one is always better, isn't it...?" The younger American sighed thoughtfully, frowning momentary before realizing he should really smile again. The last thing he wanted to do was make his brother worried.
But it was just really exhausting at this point, to miss out on such a wonder as the colour green. Alfred was never able to see it, since the earliest stages of his life. And that sometimes created this impatient sadness inside of him - he wanted to experience nature in its brightest form. The forests were always grey, the hills, grassy plains and everything that spring brought back to life. He believed that the one meant for him would never appear. Even though the boy was only nineteen, he already gave up on looking for love. Instead, he focused on creating the colours himself - through music.
Alfred had, indeed, practiced the violin since he was five years old. When he played - outside with fresh air, eyes closed - he could see the missing colour in his mind. And as he would open his eyes, it would really be there. On a moment, nature around him would shine.
"Oh, right... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring that up." Matthew placed a gentle hand on the other's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.
"It's fine, it's fine! Who gives a damn about that anyway?" Alfred just chuckled, waving his hand in dismiss.
Who gives a damn? You, you absolute idiot. You keep saying that you have stopped searching for the one meant to be with you, but that's not true.
Then why are you so obsessed with writing love songs? Why are you desperate to create the colour as a fragment of your imagination?
"Yeah, yeah." The older shrugged, not wishing to pursue the topic any longer. "There's time for everything."
Easy for you to say, Alfred thought to himself, but didn't want to say a word about it. You've been able to see purple for years now, ever since you met that French girl in cooking class. But me? No. I'm already nineteen, possibly the only person in this damn country to march into his twenties practically colour blind and single.
And worst of all, I don't give a shit. As long as I can play my damn violin, I'll be happy.
"Whatever you say, Matt. I'll go get some candy now, wait here for a moment." He rolled his eyes once he turned around, making swift steps towards his favourite aisle of the supermarket - chocolate, candy, sugary goodness, everything he craved for in life.
Alfred was really clumsy. Since he was a little child, he always had troubles with picking things up, and holding a lot of things in his hands at once. It was just him, a trait of his, and he never tried to take it seriously. Neither did his family. But it started to get on his nerves after years. He sometimes even somehow managed to drop his violin. Only a few times, though.
So as he filled his hands with three packages of jelly beans, a box of pralines and a nicely wrapped piece of Belgian chocolate, he turned around to place it in the shopping cart all at once, it all went wrong in the blink of an eye.
"Shit!" He exclaimed, dropping the articles all over the floor in front of him, only then realizing there was a person standing right there, already rushing to help him pick up all the fallen items. "Oh god, I'm so sorry..." Alfred apologized, still not looking up to whoever was trying to help.
"It's alright, it's alright." The man's soft voice reached his ears - Alfred had never before heard such a gentle tone. Still embarrassed to make eye contact, he took the risk and met the other's eyes. They were... Grey. Which meant the exact opposite - they had to be deep, green, gorgeous and intelligent. He just couldn't see it.
"Thanks for the help." He smiled solemnly.
"Well, I-I can't just walk past a man who needs help, can I?" The unfamiliar person smiled just slightly, and Alfred tapped his shoulder once or twice, just as a friendly way of saying thank you.
Suddenly, he felt as if the world stopped spinning.
Both men stepped away from each other as the felt a tingle of electricity rush through their bodies, and they couldn't help but gasp, frightened at the feeling. It was a shock wave, for sure.
"I-it's..." Alfred looked left and right, all around him, and then back to the shorter blonde in front of him. "It's green. Your eyes. They're green. A-and it's..." He began stuttering, impossible to come down from the high.
It couldn't be!
"O-oh, my god." The stranger stared for a second. "C-can you get a step closer?"
So Alfred nodded, still awestruck, and took a step forward.
"You have gorgeous eyes. A-and best of all, they're blue. I-I swear, I can see the sky in them."
"My name is Alfred." The boy grinned, blinking a couple of times to see if it was really true. If this man in front of him was truly the one.
"I'm Arthur Kirkland. And I must be the luckiest man on this planet if you're the one for me." Arthur smiled back, and the next thing they knew was that they were hugging, tightly at that note, and they didn't want it to end.
So the world gained colour for both Alfred Jones and Arthur Kirkland in a very unpredictable, unexpected turn of events. Matthew joined them from the side, almost tearing up - his brother finally found the one he denied he was looking for.
Alfred was never before so thankful for his clumsiness.