Colours

Monochrome

Life, for Mark, felt as if it were never going to be in technicolour. He'd only seen black and white monochrome since he'd opened his eyes, and before long he'd resigned himself to it being that way until he closed them for good. No children. No family. No soulmate. No colours. He couldn't enjoy the described vividness of Jungkook's paintings, the incredible colours of Jin and Jinyoung's homemade meals. He could only smile when the maknae line (ft. Hobi) managed to screw up Yoongi's hair colour. He even had to rely on mama Jinyoung to pick his own hair colours. He just wanted one day. One day to experience the colour on his friends' cheeks when they smiled at him. To enjoy the brightness of the grass, and the sky, and the sea. He wanted to live like Bam and Yugyeom, who'd found each other in middle school. Or like Jinyoung, and Jaebum, and Youngjae, who'd discovered each other slowly, but had been providing each other colours for years now. Or Yoongi and Jungkookie, or Taehyung and Jimin, or Jin and Namjoon, or Hobi and his girl. When was he going to get his colours too? When was he going to get to stop burdening his friends when he couldn't fully see something? When was the ache in his chest going to dissipate?

"Hyung? Are you even out of bed yet? Hyung? Mark?" The shouting, honestly, was not the first thing Mark wanted to hear early on a Saturday morning. He had the day off for the first time in a very long time and, really, had been planning on sleeping in well past noon before even considering getting out of bed.

"Ah, yeah, Jinyoungie. I'm getting up right now," the blond called in lazy response, tugging his heavy comforter back over his head to block out any response the younger had for him. "That sounds like a damn lie to me. Come on, Mark. Everyone's here, waiting. You promised you'd go with us this time," the younger, who acted more like a mom than Mark's own did, nagged. The blond sighed, lowering his warm blankets as the door clicked open to reveal a mildly miffed Jinyoung.

"Jirongieeee... I'm really not feeling up to it today. Can't you all go without me just this once? My chest is hurting again and I don't know if I can deal with all twelve of you," the eldest confessed, earning a brief pitied smile from the other. The soft look melted rather quickly and was replaced with an easy smirk.

"Tough luck," he hummed, already tossing a clean pair of clothes on top of the exasperated boy, "They've been planning this trip for weeks and they all want you to be there," Jinyoung finished plainly, crossing his arms over his chest with something akin to a huff, "Five minutes, hyung. I'll get your coffee ready." With that, the raven turned on his heel and all but marched from the room. Resigning himself with a heavy sigh, the lean rapper swung his legs over the edge of the bed, cringing as his feet hit cold hard wood.

Mark was not prepared for the onslaught of noise and laughter and excitement in general as he stepped into the main room of his small apartment. Though, with having known these boys for so long, he should have been. Boys were piled on the minimal furniture, legs crossed and twined, smiles gracing puffy faces and heads rocking incredibly messy hair. His heart ached a bit at the fact that really no one, save for Bambam, had done themselves up for the trip. Sweats and tshirts seemed to be a crowd favourite, and he was sure some of the hair in the room rivalled his own messy locks, which were shoved back beneath a backwards snapback. Twelve sets of sparkling eyes turned up towards him, each glimmering with their own special brand of affection. There were a couple shouts of 'Mark' and 'hyung' from some of the younger boys, each more excited than the last. The tall blond couldn't keep the warm grin from cracking at his lips, pulling light from the ache. "What are you guys doing lazing around? Don't we have a beach to go to?" Mark teased, earning loud shouts and hoots as Jinyoung handed him a travel mug full of too sweet coffee.

Jungkook was lightning quick, as usual, to sidle up to the older in the backseat of Namjoon's car, head cocking slightly to the side and uncannily reminding Mark of a retriever puppy. "How is your pain, hyung? Any better since last time?" he prodded, soft black hair falling into his bright, curious eyes.