Colors

Before him, the world was black and white for me. Not figuratively. Literally. Everywhere I looked were different shades of grays and blacks and whites. It was like that for everyone, apparently. From the very first moment you arrive into this world, colors seem to be nothing more than a myth told by people who have claimed to experience them.
From what I was told, you have to be in love to see them. Or at least, you have to know who the love of your life is. My mom and dad used to tell me stories about colors and describe to me to the best of their ability how they looked, and I would listen in awe, hoping that one day I would see colors with my own eyes. Then one day when I was seven my dad moved out and when I would ask mom about colors she would tell me that even the prettiest things fade away or that they were just another shade of gray that you felt on the inside, in your heart. Her eyes looked sad when she said that. I never asked again.
Now, though, i'm no longer seven. I'm twenty-seven and I still have yet to see a single color. At this point, I was starting to believe that they were just lies told by older people, kinda like the tooth fairy and Santa, and then I thought you were supposed to be completely and unconditionally enraptured by someone to view them and i've yet to experience that either.
At that moment, the bell above the door to the restaurant I was working in rang and I looked up to be greeted by a nervous looking man heading toward me. I was working as the host today which meant I was the one to schedule where he was supposed to be seated. He looked well groomed, his long black hair falling in waves down to his shoulders, a white button-up on as well as black slacks. His eyes seemed to be a very light gray and as he stepped up in front of the podium, I noted that he smelled nice, too.
"uh, table for two, please." he said in a squeaky, shy voice. I looked behind him.
"two?" I asked.
"two." he assured me. I shrugged it off and marked an empty table near my podium off on the sheet in front of me, grabbed two menus.
"this way, please." I said, stepping down from my stand and leading him to his table. He followed me and took his seat, immediately grabbing the napkin that was placed down from the table and wiping his hands with it. I felt a pang of concern inside of me but ignored it, instead placing the menu down in front of him and the other on the unoccupied side of the table. "A waiter will be with you shortly." I told him, to which he just simply nodded. I went back to the podium.
From my position, I could see him getting increasingly nervous, picking up his fork and placing it back down, sipping from his water, as the night went on. An hour later and his did still wasn't there. He refused to order, claiming that "he would show up some time soon", and from where I was, even I could tell that he didn't believe that. After another hour, he was the only customer left and I decided that I should go up and talk to him.
When I reached his table, I saw that he had his head down and his shoulders were shaking slightly.
"Sir?" I looked down at him, sympathy written across my features.
He jumped up, wiping his eyes as he did so, and I could see how blotchy his face was.
"O-oh, I was just, um...." He stammered, trying to think of an excuse as to why he was crying at 12 am in a restaurant alone. I don't know why, but I felt really, really bad for the kid. I put it to the fact that we rarely have cases like this here, and when we do they're old creepy men whose dates probably only agreed to it in the first place because of the guy's money.
I sat down across from him and smiled. "Forget about that guy. I'll be your date tonight, yeah?" I said. He looked shocked, probably just as shocked as I did considering I didn't intend to say that, but eventually a small smile creeped onto his face as he muttered out a "yeah". Maybe it wasn't so bad that I said that after all.

-

Three weeks later and Kellin (I had learned his name early into our first date) and I had gone on a total of about five dates. We hadn't kissed yet, keeping it to the basic hand holding, but right now, with his head on my shoulder in my bedroom as we watched TV, I was hoping to change that.
Over the course of our dates, he had gotten increasingly more comfortable with me to the point where I was able to have my arm around him, much like now, and he wouldn't think anything of it. I trailed my hand up his waist before moving it back down slowly, my eyes never leaving his face. He looked to be completely engulfed in the show we were watching. When I tugged him closer to me, his eyes flicked up to my face and I smiled at him, noting the way that he bit his bottom lip and moved a tiny bit closer.
I tilted my head down to his, our noses rubbing against each other as I closed my eyes and let out a breathy "Can I?"
He nodded and I pressed my lips to his, savoring how sweet his lips tasted and how delicate they felt against mine. He snaked his arms around my neck and held onto me, kissing me with a gentle passion and I reciprocated fully, the kiss lasting anywhere from five seconds to five minutes to five fucking hours, I could no longer tell, could only focus on how amazing this felt.
When we both pulled apart, panting and trying to catch our breath and a bit messy looking, I moved my eyes up to his face, his mouth, and I smiled.
That was the first time I saw the color pink.

-

The day after my first kiss with Kellin and my first look at a color that wasn't on the scheme I had known my whole life, I was at work still thinking about both things. Both so beautiful and amazing in their own right. Until yesterday, I don't think I had ever even felt love for someone besides those in my family. It felt... strange. I wanted to do something for him to thank him for showing me a color and how love felt, so after my shift I went to the nearest flower shop and bought a bouquet of roses. I didn't know what color they were but they smelled really sweet so I figured he'd like them anyway.
After paying, I practically sprinted to his house, rapping on the door in quick succession. I had the flowers gripped in my hands when he opened the door, and as his eyes trailed down from my own smiling face to the flowers, his broke into a grin.
"Are those for me?" he asked, stepping out of the doorway just enough for me to walk into his home.
"well, duh." I chuckled, handing the bouquet to him and the way his eyes lit up, the edges of them crinkling in joy as he held the roses in his hand made me look down just as the flowers blossomed into a gorgeous, deep red, the stems and leaves a rich green and a gasp escaped me. By the way he stopped gushing about how sweet I am, I assumed the same thing was happening to him because when my eyes looked back into his, the most beautiful color I had ever seen was no longer dormant, but alive and shining right at me. Blue. And as I stepped forward, placing my hands on his cheeks to get a better look, I heard the faintest whisper escape him.
"Brown."
-

The first time I saw Kellin's ivory skin was when we were at the beach, splashing water at each other like children. It had been about two months since we met and a month since we started dating, and I noticed that the water was kind of a blue-green, and the sky was a light blue. The clouds remained white, so I guessed that they were supposed to be that color, and all around me I could see bright, vibrant colors. It was mesmerizing, to say the least.
"Vic?" Kellin pulled me from my thoughts, swimming closer to climb onto my back, his arms draped over my shoulders.
"Hmmm?" I hummed, gripping his legs and wading deeper into the water. He remained silent. I turned my head to look at him. "Kells?"
He had a nervous look on his face, his eyes cast down and I felt my breath hitch in my throat. He turned his face away from me and sighed and I swore I my heart stopped as he let out an, "I'm in love with you."
Everything was still, silent, and I looked down at the water before gazing back at him. There was something different about him this time. His once light, colorless skin had suddenly blossomed into a.... Pale, fair complexion. I also took notice of the fact that his hair was no longer fully black, but had brown undertones to it, and at that moment I knew.
"I'm just as in love with you." I told him, to which he smiled, and I decided that even if seeing colors didn't signify that a person was the one for you, I would've known anyway, because colors or not, Kellin just had a certain... glow to him that was brighter than any color i'd ever seen.

-

Years later and things hadn't changed between me and Kellin. Everywhere I turned, I saw colors, some bright and some dull, but the best colors seemed to come from Kellin.
It was like, there was blue, and there was Kellin's eyes blue. There was pink, and there was Kellin's lips pink. I put that to the fact that even before I saw my first color, he was radiant to me.
Even as we grew old together, he was still as beautiful as can be. And it was in one of the moments where we were cuddling on our bed in the house that we bought together that I thought of something: the colors coming from Kellin aren't simply... colors. They were the embodiment of my love, the embodiment of his joy, of his wonderful personality, of all of the moments we shared together. Kellin wasn't just made up of old reds and blues. He was on an entirely different color scheme itself. And I called that color scheme 'soulmate'.