[Please listen to Colors by Halsey for this one!]
He was hunched over, lighting a cigarette. I knew all of his little secrets. The bad, the funny, all of them. I didn't say a word, didn't touch him or anything. He was so, so blue. Even his hands were blue from bruises, his pills were blue. His jeans were blue. But, unsurprisingly, his personality was grey. His hair was grey. His smoke was grey. His fucking dreams were grey. "Your little brother never tells you, but he loves you, you know?," I said, getting dressed as quickly as possible. I don't want to get caught in his colorless life. Not anymore. He didn't reply, and I caught a glimpse of his hollowed cheekbones.
You were red and you liked me 'cause I was blue.
You touched me and suddenly I was a lilac sky,
And you decided purple just wasn't for you.
He leaned over to me and gave a weak smile. I bit my lip to keep the tears in. I won't let him ruin me anymore. No matter how colorful he once was. He's so devoid of color now, he doesn't even know what it means. I slipped on my shoes, tears now dripping onto the carpet. "This is it, right? I'm sorry for fucking you up along with me," He said, not turning to face me. I opened the door, hesitating a little. Hoping that he'd come and beg me to stay. After realizing that wasn't like him, I walked outside, closing the door behind me. I just hope he finds my note.
'I hope you make it to the day you're 28 years old. Love you.'
