colours // yoonmin

eight

[ you guys don't know how much I adore heechul asdfghjkl ]

f o o d ;
I wake up feeling a bit peckish. I fetch a bag of prawn crackers from my secret stash hidden under my bed (Uncle doesn't like me eating in my room but Mrs Im Hye-Ju always smuggled a handful for me) to snack on while I wait at my roof. I only cross to his when he is there so as to minimise contact with grey, still not able to stand the colour without a distraction.

He isn't there yet, but he should be any time now, judging from the time.

I tear the bag open, breathing in the mouth-watering aroma that fills the air for a moment before popping the first cracker into my mouth. Each piece was a bite of heaven and I made sure to relish it as my monthly supply was almost dry and it's going to take a lot of begging to persuade Mrs Im Hye-Ju to restock it early.

I see his curtain pull up at the corner of my eye a minute later and wasted no time to go to his roof. I knock on the glass with the same pattern I implemented a few visits ago.

He opens his window.

He isn't as yellow today. Not shining or gleaming, or anywhere close to blinding; he was just yellow. A bit odd since I expected him to be eagerly looking forward to his hint, but then again, that deal was dumb -- Who's going to get worked up over a name? And it doesn't matter either - as long he stays yellow, I stay. Though I won't mind green again.

I've noticed how tired he always looked - His eyes are sunken into his skull and I honestly wonder what his family is feeding him. If they even are feeding him. But though he looked like a corpse, his skin glittered a beautiful white gold that said otherwise and don't even get me started on his smile. It always has an almost tangible undertone of mischief and is way too infectious.

"Hello," he greets with his signature gummy smile that I can't help but mirror. "How are-" His eyes widens, lips parting slightly.

Is it already time? I wonder. But he just came.

He scrunches his nose up, eyebrows knitting together curiously. "Did you bring food?"

My body automatically goes into defensive mode - arms holding the bag behind my back while my eyes narrow as I stare at him warily. "Yes..?" I say slowly, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh?" he says, cocking his head to the left.

"Do you want some?" The words escape my lips before I could reel it back in and I curse myself. I definitely do not want to share, especially with him. The corners of his mouth tilt into a smile and he nods his head eagerly.

"What is it?" he chirps, his happy tone suddenly like nails on a chalkboard.

"Poison," I snapped on impulse.

The yellow drains out of his face in an instant and was replaced with a dark stormy blue. He is visibly trembling, lower lip quivering as it hung agape. Pure terror was written all over his face and I feel guilty. Extremely guilty. I hit myself mentally.

Now he probably thinks you're going to kill him. Great.

"I-I was joking!" I cry but he was already taking a few steps back, hands held in front of him defensively. "I was joking..." My arm reaches out to grab his. He shakes it away.

"No," he mouths as he shakes his head feebly.

"It's prawn crackers, honestly. Trust me," I say gently, reaching out to hold him again but he was now out of reach. "That was a bad joke, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

He chews on his lip, looking as if he was processing what I had said, deciding whether or not to believe me. I cross my fingers, not wanting this to be the end or how it ends with him because holy hell did I just realise in that millisecond before he turned blue just how much I breathed for that yellow.

I thought yellow was a breath of fresh air from the suffocating blue, but no, it was air.

And he is yellow, or most of the time he was, so technically he is air. Oxygen. And with him in this state I idiotically put him in, I already feel out of breath.

He blinks once. Twice. Then he nods his head slowly and unsurely. He licks his lips, which were so supple despite his ghoulish appearance, before proceeding to sink his front teeth into them.

"Prawn... Crackers...?" he tests the words on his tongue as he slowly inches forward again, arms still bent close to his chest.

"Yeah, it's... It's deep fried and- with shrimp seasoning." Beads of cold sweat lace my hairline. My voice has gone slightly hoarse and airy but the tone is careful. It feels as if he was a scared little puppy and I'm animal control trying to coax him. "It's nice. They're... They're my favourite." I'm not really sure what to say, babbling. I don't trust something as malleable as my voice, but it's our only form of communication. Plus, it's calming him down, I think, so I keep going.

He nods his head again, looking completely unconvinced, but he still continues to move forward until he was back at his original spot behind the window. His face is still twisted with fear but it's softening, the creases on his face starting to disappear. Then he holds his hand out again like he did a few visits ago, arms shaking like a leaf.

And this time, I let him touch me.

I move my head so that his fingers brushed my cheeks and I bury myself in his palm. He looks surprised, and I am a bit too. This isn't like me, I hate being touched, but this just felt too right. His clammy hands are cold against my warm cheeks, the juxtaposition extremely soothing for some reason I cannot explain. But as with other things, I choose not to dwell on it and rather enjoy it.

I close my eyes to take in the moment, my senses heightened as his hands relax on my cheek, not trembling as much as before. I hear him chuckle and open my eyes.

He's green now. A tinge of blue but green nevertheless.

A small smile make its way to his face. Not gummy, but still warm like his other smiles. And definitely just as infectious.

"Sorry," I mumble. He goes silent for a moment but his grin remained so I'm not too worried. He releases his grip on my cheek, and with one finger, trails a line down to my chin, then neck, then shoulder, then all the way to my hand where he intertwines our fingers together.

I blush heavily. We haven't done this since, well, the first time we did, and it throws me off my equilibrium. Uncomfortable, almost. But I keep quiet.

"It's okay," he says with a shrug.

"Do you... still want some?"

He nods his head. Opens his mouth. I place a cracker on his tongue and retract my hand before he can bite down on it. He chews, orange tinting his face. Orange means curiosity and energy, the former this time.

"Is it nice?" I ask. He swallows before answering.

"It's a bit weird but... yes," he mutters shyly, "Thank you."

"Welcome."

"Your name..."

"Oh yeah, the hint. Well, it starts with a J." There's probably thousands of other names that starts with a J but he doesn't complain. He just acknowledges it with another nod and opens his mouth again. I fed him another, not forgetting to toss one into my mouth too.

He doesn't talk much, probably still shaken over the scare, nor does he remove his hand from mine. An awkward silence settles in the small gap between us and I shift uncomfortably. He remains smiling and green. Still, if the silence is to continue further, I might explode.

I plan a conversation with precision in my head. Something simple. Small talk. Nothing deep or significant.

I open my mouth.

But before I could start, his ears twitch and he bids me farewell once again. I return the 'goodbye' before parting ways, somewhat disappointed that my efforts have gone to waste, but also glad that it is over, at least for another twenty hours or so.

I look at my palm, heart almost stopping at the sight of green. Then I remember. My mouth forms into an 'o'. How could I possibly forget about this?

I look back at his window, which was now covered by a grey curtain, and smile.

~~~
I'm so so sorry for not updating in, like, forever but I lost motivation to write this book :'(  I will try to update regularly from now on