iris . vkook

one

하나

Taehyung's PoV;

"Back again, I see?" Yoongi calls from the till.

Min Yoongi runs a florists with his soulmate, Park Jimin.

Luckily for them, they were in the same friendship group since they were little and realised at the young age of around thirteen that they were madly in love with eachother. 

It was obvious.

Jimin seemed more clingy with him and blushed whenever Yoongi's lazy eyes flicked up to him as he spoke, Jimin's flustered gaze on Yoongi's hands.

Yoongi's, boringly, favourite colour is light brown, as it represents soil which is growth and new beginnings. Coincidently, Jimin's eyes are hazel, whereas his favourite colour is chocolate brown.

He claims that this is because he loves chocolate and because healthy soil is the same colour, eliciting life and nature. However, it just seems too perfect that Yoongi's eyes are the exact same shade.

I nod excitedly in response to his question, grasping a bouquet of lilac lilies in one hand, plum carnations in the other. 

My favourite colour was the entire spectrum of purple.

It didn't take a genius to know that people didn't have purple eyes, of any shade, so I knew from the age of about four that I didn't have a soulmate.

Both of my parents believed heavily in the folklore that your soulmate's eye colour is the exact same shade as your favourite colour, as it links your heart to them. And so, I'd grown up, hearing stories about people who had found their one true love in schools, jobs, shops, etcetera, etcetera. 

My mother and father had met one another on the street. My father, being the gracious gentleman that he'd always been, offered my mother an umbrella during a rainstorm. Due to her ditzy nature, she had forgotten that it was due to rain and so hadn't brought an umbrella. Furthermore, due to my mother's overly flirtatious and charming nature, she'd held the handle where my father's hand held and she'd boldly invited him over for dinner. He'd accepted and he'd told me that he knew she was the one when she laughed loudly at a joke he'd cracked, and how she'd made no attempt to sound ladylike or fake.

She'd fallen in love with his deep green eyes, her favourite colour and he'd fallen into the depths of her black eyes, his favourite colour.

Unfortunately, I did not pick up green-eyed gene. 

I got black eyes.

People tend to point at me and say that they're black because the stars have burnt out, meaning I wasn't meant to have a soulmate and that's why they're not bright. They're dull, like a fallen angel's wings.

I didn't care.

I'd loved the colour purple since the first time I could properly identify colours. My mother always tells everyone about how I'd fetch her anything purple, to show her my love. Shirts, socks and hell, even the dog's chew toys.

For me, purple represented the colour of love.

Most people, well, practically everyone, called me stupid for that as when you think of purple, you tend to think of a dark and moody shade. They'd tell me that pink is the colour of love. 

There was never any rule to which colour matched up with which definition.

Yellow doesn't necessarily always mean happiness, it can mean danger.

Red doesn't always mean blood, it can mean love and lust.

Black doesn't always mean death, it can mean the depths of the galaxies.