Tempestuous

4.

On many occasions, Angel would persuade Leo to tell him about other colors.

He told him that pink was soft....pink was the taste of cotton candy and a warm sunrise.

He told him that orange was a sip of lemonade and holding someone's hand.

Yellow was an amusement park and playing fetch with a dog.

Leo always found different ways to speak color. And they weren't just creative bursts. He felt the color. For example, when he accidentally brushed against Angel, he felt red. And when some idiot cut him off in traffic, he felt red as well.

He decided that red was passionate and full of emotion, both loving and hating. Because of this, it was his favorite color. And also, his least favorite. Pleasantly confusing.

Eventually, Leo grew to love seeing color. He didn't get the benefit of having someone to share it with, but by sharing those small sentences of color with Angel, it somewhat kept him sane.

He would take long walks, and during these walks, he'd admire all the different hues around him. He'd make poetry in his head along the way, it made him happy.

One day, he walked past a yellow flower. He knew the flower had always been a bright, potent yellow. It seemed a bit...duller today. Maybe it was wilting? It seemed to be in full bloom. How strange. He ignored the flower, and continued to walk.