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There’s nothing that irritates Jaemin more than the look he gets when people ask him about his favorite color.
“My favorite color’s orange.” He always replies with honesty, and always, just a little bit of dread from what’s about to come next.
Sometimes he’d get a scoff, sometimes a mock disgusted noise, or sometimes even a side-eye accompanied by a little laugh, like they were sharing a little joke. Jaemin never did understand the punchline.
He didn’t get why he’d always get such a funny reaction from other people for something as simple as a favorite color.
What he got though, was why he was so irritated when people made fun of him for it.
But he’d comfort himself, think to himself that it’s because they don’t understand. The beauty of the color. And perhaps, Jaemin himself.
Maybe Jaemin wouldn’t mind if colors weren’t so important to him.
It’s sort of a habit of his, to associate things that aren’t really related with each other. To interweave things that shouldn’t really be connected, but somehow, to Jaemin, it all makes sense.
Books with songs. Songs with places. Places with feelings. Feelings with people. People with colors.
When Jaemin opens up one of his favorite books, he hears melody. When he hears a song just right, he travels to a different place.
Maybe other people would understand, if they knew how becoming it is to hear the places, see the songs, and feel the colors.
It was so pointless for Jaemin, that other people have a certain negative feeling towards one color. Jaemin doesn’t. He loves all the colors.
Yellow is the warmth in his chest.
When he looks up at the sky and sees the sun, he feels Donghyuck’s warmth wrapped around his back.
Yellow is joy. It’s playfulness and hearts on their sleeves.
When he wears the cute yellow barrettes so his admittedly a little long hair wouldn’t poke his eye, he hears the sun-kissed boy whispering jokes and giggling right next to his ear.
There isn’t a particular shade that Jaemin has in mind. All shades of yellow is Donghyuck to him. Whether it’s the sun’s yellow, or the yellow of sunflowers, or the yellow of that one weird fish Jisung adopted in middle school.
They were all Donghyuck.
Green is the excitement in his chest.
Green is Chenle bouncing on the tip of his toes. Green is high pitched laughter and whisker dimples and newly dyed blonde hair.
Green is the highest of highs and lowest of lows. Green is grief and anger and the ultimate joy.
Green is alive and happy and healthy. It is what reminds him that he is still young.
Green is freedom. It is unafraid and not the single bit embarrassed.
When Jaemin looks at the trees, he sees Chenle running across the field, grin wide and wind sweeping his hair.
Blue is the strength in his knuckles.
The kind of blue that you’d see in uniforms. Blue that’s regal and authoritative, and just a little bit cold.
Blue is Mark’s intense eyes staring at him. Blue is Mark wrapping his big warm hands around Jaemin’s curled fists.
Blue is Mark telling him, “This is how you fight. When I’m not here to strike someone in the face for you, you put your fists up. Thumbs outside, Jaemin. Then you hit that son of a bitch with all you’ve got.”
Blue is Mark’s wide shoulders and bloody knuckles.
Blue is Mark looking Darkness in the eye, and not wavering for a single second.
Blue is protectiveness. It’s selfless desperation and pure love coiled into one.
Blue is Mark’s lips pressed against his temple. Blue is the gentleness that Mark reserves only for his brothers. for Jaemin and Jisung.
Blue is the softness of his palms.
The other shade of blue. The blue that you’d see in the sky when the sun is shining and the clouds are out.
The blue that is soft and warm. The blue that is not regal nor authoritative, but not any less strong.
The type of blue that would smear across Renjun’s cheeks when he’d get too into his paintings. The type of blue that has never known what darkness is.
When Jaemin sees this blue, he thinks of a pretty face and delicate hands.
This blue is aspiration. The one thing that reminds Jaemin that it’s okay to dream.
This blue is the whispers from the boy laying beside him in bed, pinkies curled around each other’s. When it’s midnight and the only thing that you can talk about are your fears of the future and your insecurities.
This blue is frightened but so so so hopeful.
Red is love.
Red is Jaemin being convinced that blood is not what is traveling through his veins, but love.
Red is wanting to protect Jisung for the rest of his life.
Red is Jisung breathing and smiling and laughing. Alive.
Red is Jisung sleeping in his arms.
It’s the younger boy, moving so carelessly, so brash and so aggressive, just like their oldest brother. It’s the younger boy, pretending to be so big and wide but immediately turning soft and pliant in Jaemin’s hold, just like their oldest brother.
It’s the red that’s pumping inside his heart.
This red is love. The purest and strongest force Jaemin has ever known.
This is the red that keeps Jaemin alive.
And finally, finally, his favorite.
Orange.
It’s the exact opposite for Donghyuck’s yellow. While every shade of yellow reminds him of the sun-kissed boy, there’s exactly one particular shade of orange that Jaemin is absolutely in love with.
And it’s this.
The shade of orange that peeks through the holes of the curtains during sunrise.
It’s the shade of orange that hits Jeno’s face just right.
It happens in between 5 and 6 in the morning. Jaemin would keep himself awake, not letting his gaze stray away from the boy laying beside him on the small bed.
Jaemin would watch it happen. Trace the color down Jeno’s nose. Kiss the moles on his face accentuated by the sunrise.
The color would only stay for less than a minute. every day. And every day, Jaemin would thank it for visiting.
This is the orange that would stay for no longer than a minute, but it would hold his heart for the entire day.
This is his orange. This is every place and every book and ever song and every color.
The orange that would be here for him, whether he’s there to see it or not.
The orange that is never unkind nor violent.
This is the exact shade of orange that reminds Jaemin that even someone like him deserves to love and to be loved.
Orange is a promise. It is what reminds Jaemin to not give all of himself away— that it’s okay to keep things for himself.
Orange is Jeno. Because when he wakes up a few minutes later, he’d blink his eyes into reality. He’d squint and sluggishly turn his body towards Jaemin. He’d smile that beautiful smile of his, lean down, and kiss the younger boy on the mouth.
The kiss only lasts for half a second, but the hold it would create in Jaemin’s heart would last forever.