Inspired by Songs.......Gongfourz Oneshots (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Colors

You were red and you liked me 'cause I was blue
But you touched me and suddenly I was a lilac sky
And you decided purple just wasn't for you

Leehan sat on the edge of his worn couch, the leather cracked and peeling beneath his restless hands. The dim yellow glow of the overhead bulb flickered, casting his small apartment into brief moments of darkness. Outside, the rain hit the windows in a rhythmic pattern, soft but insistent, like the echo of a heartbeat he didn't want to remember.

In his lap sat an ashtray, its ceramic edges chipped and its center filled with the remains of countless nights spent trying to forget. A cigarette dangled from his fingers, its ember barely alive. He stared at it, not smoking, just holding, as if its presence could replace something—or someone—else.

His phone buzzed on the coffee table, the sound startling in the oppressive silence. For a split second, his heart leaped, hope clawing its way through the numbness that had settled over him. Taesan. It had to be. But when he picked it up, the screen flashed with an unknown number. Another scam call. Another disappointment.

The phone clattered back onto the table, and Leehan leaned back, exhaling shakily. His gaze drifted to the cracked ceiling, tracing the spiderweb patterns with his eyes as though searching for meaning in the chaos. He couldn't stop his mind from wandering, couldn't stop the memories that came like an unrelenting tide.

Taesan. Bold, fiery, unforgettable Taesan.

The first time they met, Leehan had been struck by how vibrant he was, like the world had poured all its colors into him. His laugh was loud, unapologetic, and infectious, and his presence demanded attention in a way Leehan had never seen before. "You're too quiet," Taesan had teased, nudging Leehan's shoulder. "Let me fix that."

And he had.

For a time, Leehan had felt alive in a way he hadn't known was possible. Taesan was his red—fiery, passionate, and impossible to ignore. Together, they had created something beautiful, something he hadn't thought he could lose.

But now, everything was blue.

Leehan's eyes dropped to the jeans he wore. They were Taesan's, once. Dark blue, frayed at the hems, the kind Taesan had worn when he'd dragged Leehan out to the park at midnight, insisting the stars were brighter there. "You can't see them from your couch," he'd said, pulling Leehan into the night with a grin that could've rivaled the moon.

Now, the jeans felt heavy, like they were weighed down by memories. His hands traced the fabric absently, his mind replaying the moment Taesan had left.

"You were red," Leehan murmured to the empty room. "And you liked me because I was blue."

The words felt hollow as they left his lips, echoing in the silence. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as the memory of their last fight came rushing back.

Taesan had stood by the door, his bag slung over one shoulder, his expression unreadable. "I can't keep doing this," he had said, his voice quieter than Leehan had ever heard it. "We're not enough. Purple... it's not for me."

And then he was gone.

Leehan rose from the couch, the cigarette in his hand forgotten as he paced the room. His bare feet made soft thuds against the floor, the sound a poor substitute for Taesan's voice. He stopped by the window, his breath fogging the glass as he pressed his forehead against it. The city sprawled out before him, its lights a blur of gray and white.

He remembered how Taesan had once painted this city in hues of gold and red, how he'd made even the most mundane days feel like an adventure. They'd danced in the rain on streets just like this, Taesan's hands pulling him close, his laughter echoing against the buildings. "Don't be afraid to live a little, Leehan," he'd said, spinning him around as if the world didn't matter.