I was blue.
I was the color of sadness, the color of depression, the color of discourage.
I didn’t let people see it, though. I made sure I always wore my mask.
My mask, what I hid under. My mask had the words ‘I’m perfectly fine, I’m sane, I’m grand’ written across it.
But it was just a mask.
My true self was upset, unable, barely working, slowly dying. It was the complete opposite of my mask. Nobody could fix me, but he managed to.
People say your eyes are the entrance to your soul, but nobody dared to take a second glance at my hazel eyes. The only person who did was him.
He was red.
He was the color of fire, the color of being alive, the color of passion.
He was proud. He let his pride screamed and made his insecurities whispered. He showed everyone his true self.
He never hid.
I admired him. His bright blue eyes that were always shining. His curly chocolate brown hair that would fall onto his face. I admired his passion for his work. The things that he did that never failed to impress.
What I didn’t realize was he admired me too.
He knew about my mask, and somehow managed to find a way underneath it. He thought all my insecurities were beautiful and that I was an amazing person. He continuously told me I was crazy for not believing him. He told me I was crazy for always hiding under my mask.
I never agreed with him, until he uttered three words. Eight letters that changed my life forever.
We became purple. I was blue and he was red, but together we made purple.
The color of lust, the color of trust, the color of true happiness.
I never hid from him.
When I was with him, my mask faded into nothing.
When he was with me, his eyes gleamed brighter than the stars.
It was perfect.
Nothing could break or bend us in any way at all.
We were unstoppable, immortals, uncontainable. Always together. Always bringing the best of each other. Nothing could tear us apart.
Years passed, and my blue color slowly faded, along with his red color. We’ve been making shade of purple out of red and blue. We were only purple, nothing else.
We were madly in love. Always all over each other, never able to keep hands of the other.
We would kiss until we couldn’t breathe, and we would hold each other for hours. Nothing could put out the fire that was burning with passion of each other.
It started as a spark, but ignited into a flame.
Life was purple.
The color of love, the color of affection, the color of us.
And that moment, I realized that I was the luckiest and the happiest person in this planet.
All I got from him was colors.
Okay, listen. I was feeling very poetic, and I decided to write this (since it’s Valentine’s Day). I’m sorry if this one is very short. Let me know in the comments below if you like this or not.
In my point of view, this story is about Tronnor (Troye Sivan and Connor Franta, duh), and it’s about how Troye had fix Connor and they fell in love with each other (Connor is ‘blue’ and Troye is ‘red’). If you want to relate this story to other characters or your OTP, it’s okay!