Colours

t h i r t e e n (his pov and ending)

There's this saying, how one never appreciates what they have until one loses it. That pretty much summed up how he was feeling. There was a void in his life now, a void that he never felt until now, until y/n had cut him out of her life. The inner turmoil was wild and he had to remind himself a million times that this is just a result of what he ultimately wanted.

He'll never admit to this but he went to the airport. He watched her walk into her gate and past the doors he wasn't allowed to go. He himself didn't know why he was there. Was this a final act of desperation or way for him to absolve himself of any residual guilt? Either way, it was pretty pathetic.

After all, he had chased her away. He was the one who hurt her. He was the one who wished she was gone so he was the only one to blame. So what right did he have to show up? The only thing he had was the audacity.

And so much guilt. He never truly apologized for the things he's said or the way he's treated her over the years — that was the thing about y/n. She stuck around even when he was a horrible person because she had always been good. Now, he would probably never have the chance to.

"Isn't it weird that she's really gone?" His coworker asked as he looked at her empty desk, pulling him from his lonely thoughts. Was this how y/n felt? This loneliness and isolation he placed her in all these years? Pushing her aside for all the people who he thought were his friends when he had a good friend all along?

He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat, listening in on what was being said.

"Kind of? I mean, she was constantly annoying h/n."

"She wasn't," he whispered. Disgust filled him whole, was this how he sounded as he spoke of y/n? What was wrong with him? How could he ever do such a thing? She had to hear these and feel the punch to the gut with every word he said.

"You literally said how you wished she would disappear. Now you're acting as if you give a shit."

"I do! I did!" He stood up in a rage. Why was he so mad? "I'm just so much of an asshole, I didn't truly realize what she meant until she left!"

Nothing but silence greeted him back as they all stared at him, wide eyed. "You've totally lost it."

He did. He really did. He finally realized he lost y/n and that's something he'll always regret.

~ Years later ~

"Grandpa? Why do you always tell me to wear colours?" His granddaughter asked as he clipped her hair back with a rose clip.

He pondered the question and instead of sugar coasting his answer, he decided to be honest. "I guess it's because of guilt. A long time ago, I did a bad thing."

"What kind of a bad thing?"

A very bad thing. "I hurt someone. I didn't know it at the time but I cared about them a lot."

"Oh," his granddaughter said, looking disappointed. It cut right through him but deserved it.

"And when I hurt them," he continued. "They stopped wearing colours even though they loved them."

"So they changed?"

"Yes," he replied. They changed a lot.

"That's not nice, grandpa."

"I know, bug. Grandpa regrets it."

"Did you ever try apologizing?"

"I never got the chance to."

"If you could apologize now, what would you say?"

He paused for a few seconds. What would he say? He was sorry for hurting her? He didn't deserve her friendship let alone her love? She was the light this world needed? "I'd tell her I'm sorry."

"That's it?" She asked as she stood up and looked at him.

He smiled and nodded. "That's it.