Work Text:
It's been years since you've joined our band, at first an awkward accessory to your brother and my best friend. Growing up went fast for you and soon you became the person you are today. I've always shown interest in you and I've always tried to get closer to you, and I did. You let me inside your hidden soul, behind your shell made of sharp angles and bony limbs. What I saw was an amalgamation of colours, ones that you could never identify, maybe because of your colourblindness or maybe because you had been hiding them away for so long that they became estranged even to you. I was always awaiting the moments when I'd get to be close to you and you'd giggle and laugh, unhidden by your charcoal veil of hair or your big hands, as you usually are, insecure that people will laugh at your crooked teeth. In those moments, you were yellow and pink. You used to stay away from physical touch, only comfortable with your brother. When you'd finally let me touch you without recoiling, I felt accepted and couldn't stop looking at you for the rest of the day. Soon, we'd lean into each other and I was warmed by the soft hues of blue that I could see in you. We'd hold hands, hold each other, let our faces be as close as possible. When I cried, you held me in your arms and caressed my hair. In those moments, all I could do was mumble incomprehensible sentences and leave puddles of tears and mucus on your shirts that fit so well around your frame. I apologised, but you kissed my forehead and told me it didn't matter. When I looked into your wide deer-like eyes, my weeping halted. You never stopped caring for me and I never stopped caring for you. Then there were our most intimate moments, when we would create music together. Then, your colours mixed to create a whirl of neons and pastels, something similar to the pictures of supernovas created by researchers. The notes and chords we'd play would mix into beautiful harmonies and we would be the only people on earth. When we'd finish playing, you'd look at me with a smile and raise your eyebrows, as if to ask: “Did I do well?”. I would never be able to answer.