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The blue of the sky is very pretty, Jimin notes, his back and legs digging into the sand below him. He might have to rinse off in the water later, but the view above was worth it all. Humming, he reflexively squeezed the hand in his grasp while he stretched. Beside him, Jeongguk stirred, his right arm thrown over his eyes (because he absolutely hated the feeling of heat baking his entire face) while his left still rested peacefully between him and his boyfriend, fingers loosely tangled to keep them together with no one but the wind and crashing waves to bother them (he did find the wind bothersome, but he tried not to complain for Jimin’s sake). This was very nice. Refreshing.
“You said the sky was blue, right?” Then, a yawn. He must have fallen asleep earlier. Jimin hums. “And the water?”
Jimin wished he could share the view.
“Yeah.”
Feeling the tension thicken the air, Jeongguk pushed himself up and took his hand out of Jimin’s. They have been through this way too many times for either of them to count. Bringing a knee to rest his elbow on, Jeongguk half-yawned, half-sighed before shaking out his hair. Sand flew off the black strands, probably hitting the other in the face somewhere but he didn’t care.
“I told you not to pity me. You’re pitying me again.”
“I’m not pitying you.” Just like all the times before. It was a cycle, a short one that has looped many times within the past two years. “I’m just…frustrated. I want to give you the world but I can’t figure a way how.”
“Then give me blue.”
Jeongguk has always been stubborn.
“I don’t think it works like that-“
“Give me blue,” He repeated.
Also, very, very selfish. Blue was the color everyone adored. It was in love songs, the color of the sky and water, it calmed people down and it drew them in. To Jeongguk, blue sounded very magical and he wanted it. If he could pick on thing he could see (god would he love to experience what everyone talked about, about what seeing was. He had no idea.), it’d be blue. Jeongguk has never wanted something so badly before.
“There’s too many shades to go through.” An open palm pressed against his cheek, drawing his attention to the left. After figuring out where Jimin laid, he moved.
His thighs straddled his boyfriend’s narrow waist as his hands found ground with Jimin’s chest. It hadn’t been easy to get it down (Jeongguk himself was surprised he didn’t end up kneeing Jimin in the face while he got a mouthful of sand), but after steadying himself, Jeongguk sat comfortably on the older’s abdomen. His lip rolled back, teeth dragging against the dry skin as it came back. Jimin laid idly below him, watching him as he always did: with wonder and adoration.
“You’ve never said no to me.” His fingers curled into the front of Jimin’s shirt, wrinkling the fabric unattractively. Brat.
Jimin means it in the most adoring way possible.
“How are you feeling today, Jeongguk?” Impatient. Ready to suffocate the older, probably. If he was feeling special, the other way around. His fingers rose to run through and tangle into the dark bangs falling off Jeongguk’s forehead, he flinches at the sudden contact but quickly settles. “Happy? Sad? In-between?”
“I…”
“Today, I’ll tell you, show you, all the good things about blue. Tomorrow, the indifferent. In the future, the sad.” His wondering fingers dropped, sliding off Jeongguk’s shoulder to take one of the younger’s hands again. Their fingers laced together again, tighter than before, and he presses his lips to them lovingly. When he tugged him closer, Jeongguk almost fell forward with a string of curses because you cannot just treat a blind person like a ragdoll, but his foul words were ignored. The warmth he had felt on his knuckles before were now trailing up his wrist, reaching as far as Jimin could go from his position.
It was heavenly, allowing him to relax; his lips parted while Jimin shifted and sat up on an elbow. From there, Jimin was able to press himself into the crook of the other’s neck, breathe in the salty smell the ocean water left on his skin. This was blue, a lighter shade, perhaps an Alice blue. Innocent, warming, it made Jeongguk want to take a nap in a blanket pulled from the dryer.
“You trust me, right?” The words were almost too soft for Jeongguk to hear, but he nodded. He felt the smile against the side of his neck, and leaned his cheek on Jimin’s head.
“I mean, I sort of have to.” His eyes closed, eyelashes kissing his cheeks barely.
“You love me, don’t you? I love you, wouldn’t do anything to betray you.”
“Yes, yes, I know.”
That was blue, Jimin would tell him in a whisper, pressing another kiss to his soft skin. Trust, loyalty- those were a different shade than tranquility. They were darker, but not as dark as midnight blue. Ultramarine.
X
The next day, Jimin was folding the laundry when Jeongguk brought up the color again. Blue, blue, blue. The younger was starting to become far too greedy. It was made quite clear with the pout on his lips when Jimin flicked the tip of his nose out of nowhere and told him that was periwinkle, brat. There was nothing special to periwinkle, the younger noted, and stayed quiet until Jimin was finished with the house chores.
When they were lying in bed ready to go to sleep, he asked again. What else is blue? Jimin sighs. The lullaby your mom sings you, the mask of sleep, fond memories, the lingering touch of a lover (his fingers trail up the younger’s arm lazily on this one), the hum of their air conditioning- they’re all blue. Cornflower, Carolina, Celeste, Powder, Maya.
Jeongguk falls asleep to the color Maya.
Jimin stays awake to the color Phthalo.
It isn’t long until Jeongguk is asking for more, more, more. Jimin was running out of all the positive things to give him, all the fuzzy feelings color could give in a form of words. Jeongguk started asking for darker shades, Jimin refused. They were too harsh to give, Jimin just wanted to protect him. Jeongguk became selfish.
Jimin was given the silent treatment from there on out, never getting an answer when he asked what the younger wanted to eat. What music he wanted to listen to. Where they wanted to visit on their open weekends. It’s been a couple of weeks now since he’s told him no, just how much longer was Jeongguk going to stay on mute for?
In his own silence, Jeongguk was discovering the shades on his own: loneliness, anxiety, suffocation. They were all such startling shades, but he allowed them to flood in. He found they were cold, much harsher than he had been expecting. They seemed to actually yank him around in a confusing pattern, one he couldn’t make out clearly.
After a couple of more weeks, he returned to his lover’s arms for the colors of Alice and Celeste (they had been much more comforting than what Jimin told him was Navy and Prussia). He was satisfied, thinking he had a full understanding of a color finally. He could understand the love songs now, agreed when Jimin poured over about how beautiful the sky was whenever they went on a walk.
For once, Jeongguk and Jimin were on the same page when it came to describing things. When Jimin tried to describe scenery or the way that the younger made him feel, he would just whisper a different shade. Sapphire when they held each other at night, Zaffre when he was pressed into mattress all night long, throat raw the next morning, Electric whenever they kissed. It was a system they worked out together over time. It worked, it was meant for the two of them. Jeongguk was happy, and that’s all that Jimin could care for.
He thought he had all the shades, that there was nothing new to discover. Jeon Jeongguk had walked along the line of blue, he saw the end and he could proudly say he was ready to learn all the other colors. Red, yellow, green, purple- all of it. Jeongguk was greedy, after all. Jimin had said he’d give him the world, and while blue was a very large chunk, it wasn’t everything. There was still a need settled in the back of his mind.
X
Two years later, he discovered an even darker shade. Jeongguk came across Duke blue the night Jimin walked out. Betrayal, hurt. Self-hate. They had gotten into an argument, there was definitely a lot of yelling and personal attacks, Jeongguk couldn’t remember what it was exactly about. All he knew was that he said some things, and so did Jimin, neither of them particularly kind.
From all stories, Jeongguk thought he would see red. Pulsing, searing red. However, all he saw was blue. Blue, blue, blue. Everything was just fucking blue and he was getting sick of the color. It covered too many emotions. Did anyone else just get tired of seeing it? Blue was all that Jeongguk ever saw, he wanted more.
So instead, Jeongguk tried seeing black. The color Jimin once described as desperation, the confused feeling of all of them mixed together. He threw his head back against the door he sat against, crying out and screaming like a child because fuck it, no one would hear. All he saw was blue. It just kept getting darker, but it was still blue. Fucking blue.
The next morning, he was back to seeing Alice (Jeongguk has decided he liked this color the best, he always thought back to the beach that day), neck aching with Cobalt. Someone had covered him with a blanket, which he pulled closer instantly. A bed would be better, though, but he couldn’t bring himself to complain. When he tried to reposition himself, he realized that his head was in a lap. Jimin. Of course it was Jimin, he was the only one that made Jeongguk see such a pretty color. He had come back.
“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…” Jimin was whispering it repeatedly as he detangled Jeongguk’s hair with his fingertips. The younger instantly relaxed, feeling a new color bloom in his chest. When he asked about it, he felt a tear hit his cheek as Jimin let out a broken laugh. Jeongguk simply blinked up at nothing, not being able to see the way his lover’s face twisted in pain for a few moments. Indigo. Indigo was a nice color.
X
A month after their fight and everything goes back to normal. Jeongguk is slowly learning more shades of blue, because they’re seemingly endless. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to keep up (though at some point, he’s convinced that Jimin’s just making up colors). One he has recently learned was Welkin, one of Jimin’s favorite shades. He finds that it’s kind of like Ultramarine, but softer. He found it after Jimin had hugged him from behind one morning, burying his face into his shoulder with a rough ‘good morning’ passed into the material of his sweater (no wonder Jimin likes this color, it’s very comforting, Jeongguk feels loved and appreciated when this color appears).
Zenith came after. Jimin said it didn’t look very different from Wilken, but Jeongguk felt they were completely opposite. Wine and water, day and night. Zenith appeared the day they had to move, due to Jimin finding a new job. It was bitter-sweet, he found. He was upset that he had to leave behind everything he treasured in their small town (including that coffee shop on the corner, where he had met Jimin in the first place while he had been with out with his brother), but it was also adventurous. Jeongguk has never left his hometown before, not even for vacations.
“What’s ‘true blue’?” Jeongguk asked one time, his pinky hooked with Jimin’s as they walked through the park near their new apartment. He’s heard of the shade before, but he’s never been able to identify it. Jimin takes a couple of moments to respond.
“It’s something you’ll experience one day. It’s not pretty, but it doesn’t seem as bad as time passes on.” Jimin has experienced the shade once before, back in his early years of college when someone close to him had unfortunately passed away in a car accident. True blue was, simply put, true blue; the simplest shade of blue you could ever experience.
“Will I experience it soon?” He wanted to be prepared. An arm wrapped around his shoulders, pulled him closer.
“I hope not.”
They left it at that, continued to walk aimlessly while it slowly started to warm up outside. They both stopped by a little coffee shop, Jimin offered to teach him about different colors, such as brown and yellow, but Jeongguk shook his head. He was going to learn everything blue first, then he’d move on to different colors (“You’re never going to learn about other colors if you’re like that, there’s an infinite amount of shades.”). Jeongguk simply shrugged it off and sipped the bittersweet liquid in his cup, felt Indigo again, but more subtle.
Someone came up to their table, startling Jeongguk into spilling some of his drink onto their table when they spoke. Ondine. He turned his head towards the direction of the newcomer, couldn’t recognize his voice. Yonder. Jimin greeted him, talked for a couple of minutes and forgetting about the boy sitting across from him for a little while. A college friend, Jimin hasn’t seen him in years. Proletariat. Navy. Newer colors, old colors.
“…and this is my boyfriend. Jeongguk? You okay?” Snapped back to reality. Alyssa.
After that day, Jimin and Taehyung kept in contact. Jimin swore it was a miracle that they had found each other again, Jeongguk retorted it was easy to just look up his name. Though, Taehyung and Jeongguk did get along, the younger finally had someone other than Jimin to lean on and laugh with. Soon enough, all of them were hanging out more often than not, sometimes sober and sometimes one of them had made a trip to the liquor store.
Taehyung noticed it, too. Noticed when Jimin would lean over and tell the youngest something, watched as he nodded and grinned widely, murmuring something back and then the two of them were laughing. When he asked, Jeongguk sat up straight and happily babbled about all the colors he knew. Taehyung found it fascinating, honestly, he had never stopped to think about colors the blind did. He was able to describe color without knowing what it looked like; it was a skill, something that the brunette had always skipped over in his life.
“Tulle is like…you know the first time you held a puppy and it fell asleep on you? It’s fuzzy, patient. It’s like when you feel there is no such thing as time. Oh, and Cadet- you’d think that’d be a depressing color, with how dark it is, but let me tell you, it’s one of the best. Think sitting outside with a cup of tea on a spring day, it’s a stable color. Glaucous is like sleeping in on a Saturday morning.
“Tiffany is a pretty color. It’s eating mint ice cream even though it’s in the middle of winter, dancing in your socks but letting your legs freeze off when the heater is broken. Victorian…finger painting when you’re a child, very creative, but vague. Jimin told me about it while we were babysitting for a co-worker last year, and…”
“You know a lot about blue,” Taehyung pointed out about ten minutes after Jeongguk had started rambling. The younger stopped, grinned and Taehyung thought he saw Andaman. Innocence.
“I only see in blue. It covers just about everything, doesn’t it? I don’t think I’ll ever need to learn any other color.”
The subject changed after that.
“Are you sure you don’t want to learn any other colors?” Jimin would ask once Taehyung was long gone, slowly picking up the empty bottles littering their coffee table. “Like red? It’s passion, love…”
“But blue covers those too. Ultramarine for trust, Royal for loyalty. Powder blue is for your lingering touch, Wilken is when you hug me in the mornings and whisper I love you. Why learn such an angry color when blue is much more peaceful?” He was rambling, his head turning from side to side, up and down, anywhere where he thought Jimin wasn’t. Jimin stopped him by placing his hands on his cheeks, sighing.
“Okay,” He breathed. “Okay. We won’t learn any more colors, we’ll stick with blue.”
“What color are you?” If Jimin wasn’t blue, maybe Jeongguk could learn one more. Store all the shades in a file in the back of his head, just so he could understand him some more.
“Phthalo.” Jeongguk didn’t ask what that shade meant.
“What color am I?”
He felt fingers slipping through his hair, he ignored it. His pout slowly turned into a scowl, and though he couldn’t see it, Jimin’s features became ridden with pain. If Jeongguk could see, he’d realize that his lover had become a bit paler. Of course, he noticed the weight drop, Jimin brushed it off and told him it was just him losing winter weight. Jeongguk believed him, because the only thing he could go off of was his words. If he couldn’t trust those, what was he supposed to do?
“What color do you think you are?”
Jeongguk didn’t know. Reaching out for Jimin, he grabbed the back of his shirt, dragging him closer. His head bowed down so his forehead pressed against the other’s shoulder. He breathed him in, tensed up and then relaxed again before leaning his weight forward. His favorite color offered him comfort.
“Alice.”
It was a lie, but Jeongguk couldn’t leave the question hanging in the air any longer. Jimin nodded and wrapped his arms around the black haired male, securing him to his chest. They stood like that for a while, Jeongguk folding himself over Jimin and Jimin just holding him as best he could. Jimin pulled away first, leading Jeongguk to sit down so he could continue cleaning up. Jeongguk fell asleep while waiting for him to finish.
X
Lately, Jimin has been disappearing from Jeongguk’s side more and more. It claimed it was work- that he’d be back soon. Jeongguk has finally started to notice the odd behavior, he woke up one night to cold sheets and the sound of vomiting and coughing in the connected bathroom. He never said anything, told himself that Jimin would tell him in his own time. Tricked himself into believing that it was a stomach bug, it’d be gone soon. Cerulean.
Taehyung was around when Jimin wasn’t, making food to feed his friend, reading him books, cleaning up whenever Jeongguk knocked into a drink that wasn’t his. He was there to make sure he was dwelling on Jimin’s absence (it wasn’t like he was gone for too long, he was always back before the next daylight).
This time, Jeongguk hasn’t seen Jimin in three days. Taehyung came over every morning, knocking three times before pausing and opening the front door so Jeongguk knew it was him. Jeongguk was usually just sitting in the middle of the floor, lips parted and he just seemed so out of it. He was too stubborn to say he needed help, an explanation. Teal.
“Taehyung?” He didn’t get an answer, but he continued anyway. “What does Phthalo feel like?”
“What do you mean?” He heard something being put down by the door, Jeongguk only blinked.
“Phthalo,” He repeated. “Jimin said he was Phthalo. Never told me what it was. What is it?”
There was some shuffling around, then footsteps. Jeongguk knew Taehyung crouched in front of him when the smell of pine needles, that damn shampoo of his, invaded his senses. A hand grabbed one of his that had been resting his lap, Jeongguk lifted his chin up, confused.
“Jimin’s in the hospital.” Blank.
Jeongguk didn’t know what color he was seeing. Letting Taehyung know he heard him, Jeongguk nodded slowly and tightened his grip on Taehyung’s hand.
“He’s…sick. We’re not sure what it is yet, but they’re working hard to make sure he gets better.”
He flinched away when the older tried to brush his bangs away. Of course it had to be that, why had he been stupid enough to assume it was just a stomach virus? He’s been disappearing at random, left the bed in the middle of the night, his hugs a little more bony. He should’ve said something. His lips parted again, but they seemed to forget how to move so he just nodded again.
The time had blurred together by the time they reached the hospital; Jeongguk had no idea how long it had taken. He didn’t count, he was lost in a shell of numbness, letting Taehyung do all the talking. They must have reached Jimin’s room after a while, because the sound of ruffling sheets and curse words (followed by coughing, Jeongguk chose to ignore that detail). Taehyung must have brought him without letting the other know.
Jimin was saying something, but it never made it to Jeongguk’s ears. He was pushing everything out, crouching low to the ground and locking his fingers together behind his head, eyes squeezed tight. He wished he had never started to see color, he wanted it back to where he knew nothing. Where he was unable to feel these things because he didn’t know how to describe them. True blue. This situation- it was under a blanket of true blue, he was true blue, and Jeongguk didn’t want to see anymore.
(If he could see, he’d see sick yellow skin and gray lips.)
The months following were hard. Jeongguk had to force himself to visit, Taehyung holding his hand the whole time. Jimin started going through chemotherapy, his liver had been too diseased to undergo surgery by the time he had been diagnosed. Hopefully it could be settled soon; the tumors would shrink enough to be removed in surgery. Jimin kept his head up though, so Jeongguk did the same.
Jeongguk hasn’t learned any new shades.
Taehyung has recently taken Jeongguk shopping, for beanies and hats. They weren’t for him, Jeongguk knew that the moment there was a knock on his door (the apartment was lonely, Jeongguk hated it).
“I think he’d like this one.” Taehyung spoke from beside him, pulling him closer to the outside of his true-blue state.
“What color is it?”
“…Blue.”
“Put it back.”
They ended up buying three beanies, none of them blue, as requested by Jeongguk. Jeongguk paid, let Taehyung handle all the interactions and the bag-holding. Somehow, Jeongguk was able to worm his way out of the hospital visit today, probably because Taehyung knew how bad it was getting. He was taking pity.
Jeongguk hated the pity.
X
Jimin has finally started teaching him about shades again. His condition, while slowly getting better, was still pitiful but Jeongguk didn’t care because Jimin’s arms were home and he’s been running away for too long. When he found himself squished into his side, a hand squeezing his shoulder, he didn’t complain.
“You said you were Phthalo. What did that mean?” Jimin hums, thinking. Just like he always did. It made Jeongguk feel sick to his stomach. It wasn’t like always.
“Illness, fear. Cowardice.”
“Do you still think you’re that color?”
“Occasionally.”
Jeongguk nodded, head tilted down as his features twisted and folded, becoming neutral before shifting again. Too many thoughts, too many colors. Too many probabilities.
“I don’t think you are.” Jeongguk could describe Jimin as many different colors. Phthalo was not one of them, it was too ugly to describe someone as pretty as Jimin.
When he said this, Jimin laughed, reminded him that he didn’t know what pretty was. He couldn’t see, only feel (plus, Jimin did look like complete and utter shit now, as Tae had so kindly put it one day when he came alone). But no, you’re not. And, you said Wilken was a pretty color. Everything you do with me, for me, is Wilken. You’re periwinkle, the curiosity of a child. You’re Indigo, the feeling in my chest when you laugh or say something nice. You’re so, so pretty, Jimin.
Jimin pet the younger’s hair lovingly, listening as he rambled on and on as he always did (it was one of the reasons he loved him). A smile stretched on his face when Jeongguk had obviously ran out of phrases, and even colors- which was a surprise- to describe him with, but kept going anyway. Repeating himself. Jimin didn’t mind.
X
There’s no color in his life anymore. Taehyung tried helping him out, after the funeral and all, tried telling him a color that represented his composure. Jeongguk ignored him, because you don’t know colors like he did. He saw nothing, like how he did before Jimin. It’s been too many years (maybe about five now, he lost count because hell that man just made his mind fuzzy and his heart crazy).
Instead of seeing, he felt. Though, that wasn’t an adventurous experience either. He only felt numbness, didn’t feel when he almost fell on the concrete. Didn’t feel any pain or pressure; it was almost as if he turned it all off. Taehyung caught his hand, he shook it off. If it wasn’t Jimin, it was invasive.
Jeongguk was still stubborn. Still selfish. He refused to learn about colors now, learning that they only brought him the understanding of pain and not just happiness. It’s been a while since he felt his favorite shades of blue, but then again it’s been a while since he felt the need to try. Right now, he was content. He ignored Taehyung whenever he tried to be like Jimin and come up with colors out of nowhere, when they sat waiting for table at a restaurant, when the grass needed mowing, when thunder created a melody in the middle of the night. Jeongguk blocked it all out.
There was a day when Taehyung asked Jeongguk about blue, though. He had been at a dead end of trying to catch his attention, thought that if he let him start up the conversation it’d end up somewhere better. Somewhere livelier, somewhere colorful. Jeongguk shrugged, licked his lips absent mindedly and rolled over, back facing his friend.
“I don’t know, I don’t see in blue anymore.”