Everyone favorite question to ask him, it seemed, was:
"What color is this?" One of his classmates held up an orange.
"Gray," he replied simply.
"Well, what color do you think it is?"
Chanyeol looked down at his finger. The color was similar to the fruit his peer was holding. He fiddled with his ring, twisting it around and around his finger, a nervous habit that he picked up. "Orange. I'm not an idiot. I know what an orange looks like."
"So what's life like without color?"
"Normal, I guess. It's like old school television."
"Ew, really? How do you live?"
Chanyeol rubbed his pretty brown eyes--he had been told that they were a pretty brown, at least--as he felt the tears begin to set in.
No, don't cry.
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