Technicolour - NCT Yuta x OC

Chapter One

People always say "the good die young", that they're "taken too soon" or "gone before their time". Yuta wondered what he had done to be denied such a privilege. Was it when he was nine and ran away from home because his mother refused to buy him a new Play-Station? Perhaps it was when he snuck out in the middle of the night to go to his first house party? Maybe because he cheated in his Finals of freshman year. Or the fact that despite dating Jihye for a year now, he was still in love with his ex?

Yuta already knew the answer already, but he was stuck in a sea of guilt and denial, desperately trying to stay afloat. But Yuta was sure he was only one wave away from drowning.

Jihye sat in the old, frayed armchair across from him, eyes refusing to meet his. Her slender arms rested on her knees, elbows digging in so much they created two splotches of what should have been colour. Head in her hands as she sighed once more, she tugged harshly at strands of hair.

Anger was one of the ugliest emotions, Yuta thought, but it was also one of the most colourful. It began as grey: eyes glazing over with disinterest and contempt. Then it was a white colour: paling knuckles balling into fists by your sides as your arms tremble with rage. Next was red: lips bitten in a futile attempt as restraint, faces flush with ferocity and frustration. After that there was purple: light-headed and short of breath, you huff and puff your final arguments away. Finally, there was black: slammed doors and heavy silences as you wonder how it ever got to this.

Yuta liked to think of emotions as colours. You could tell how someone felt just by looking at them—no matter how hard they tried to hide it—and Yuta could see it clearer than most. If emotions were colours, then it was almost like he could see those too.

Jihye tapped her foot on the scruffy floor, staring him in the eye to demand a response. The room was silent, aside from the rhythmic ticking of the clock on Yuta's desk.

"Yuta."

He sat still, flicking through his textbook (not that he could even focus anymore)

"Yuta!" she slammed her fists into her lap before she stood, looking down as she towered above the sitting man. "For fucks sake, are you just gonna ignore me then? You won't even argue back?"

He bit his lip as he listened, curious to see how long it would take before she'd get fed up and leave. He should have felt guilty—she was definitely more justified in complaining that he was—but he was so stressed out that he wasn't thinking straight.

"You've been away for two whole weeks, and you can't even find an hour to go get some coffee with me? I feel like I haven't seen you in so long, Yuta."

He shifted in his seat slightly as he watched her eyes fall towards the ground as her hands unclench.

"All I want is to spend a little time together... Is that really asking too much?"

Anger was an ugly emotion, but loneliness was the most pitiful. Yuta understood better than anyone what it was to feel alone. He knew exactly how it felt to stand in a crowd and still feel like you're the only human on the planet.

He stood up from his seat, reaching a tentative hand out to stroke her silky hair. She turned her head away from his, now that he was standing at her eye level.

"...You're right." he said, lifting her chin so that she was looking at him again. "I haven't seen you in a while, I'm sorry. I'll take a break from studying, and we can go grab some lunch together, okay?"

She was still a little unsure; he could tell by the way her right hand was held behind her back, left hand holding its wrist. She always did that when she was upset. He had been visiting his family in Osaka for the past two weeks and was fairly behind on projects for School. He needed to catch up as soon as possible but it wasn't fair to neglect his girlfriend either. A shadow of a smile graced her lips before she leaned closer to his face, planting a chaste kiss on his cheek. He could smell her perfume when she was this close, the sweet scent of vanilla and patchouli comfortingly familiar. She deserved a proper date, but lunch was as close as he could get right now.