♡A-A-A-A-A-And they call you Baby Blue, 'cause it's your favorite colour♡
After being expelled, Tyler is sent to a boarding school for 'troubled youths' where a certain teacher catches his eye. But life at Rose Wood Towers is not simple.
Tyler's los...
A/n: this is irrelevant but it's my birthday tomorrow sjskdjdkdk
Also, this book hit 20k reads and 1k votes so I'm very happy :))
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Tyler's Pov:
People usually associated red with anger, a colour of boiling heat, a burning fury.
Or love.
Red had two sides. The romantic side was sufficient of sensual roses and a dark lustre lingering in the dilated apple of your eyes. This held you hostage in deep infatuation, the stimulation that drove you insane. That want to be with him, that need to be with him. Love could manipulate you easily with that high level of control- that's why I chose suppression over exposure.
Red also indicates dangers, a threat issued that alerts your system. Maybe the colour was warning you about its other inducing characteristics: the dangers of love, the uprise of fury.
Josh had hot red hair- and well, this colour made me think of him. Too damn much.
It's a symbol of red. All of it.
You were either enraged or enamoured. Sometimes even both. Both was risky.
Yellow was a colour of happiness. Joy and glee. It's bright and sunny, sets a buoyant mood, evokes that optimistic side to life. Like on a summer's bright day when you lay upon the grass as the sun reign down on you, the warmth tingling along your skin. There was that content feeling; I myself didn't quite catch hold.
I despised yellow.
Tree-sap green made me sick. It's said to be soothing, but I disagreed.
Pale pink was cute. Those rosy lips and blushy cheeks. An adorable colour, I found it to be. And definitely one not at all in relation to myself, surely, never had I deemed myself 'cute'. Never would I.
Purple hinted sadness and depression- especially the darker shades. A negative vibe, one for the mourners of life. I wasn't one of those people, no, I wanted to die before I'm old but still have good time. I wouldn't waste it on feeling purple.
Grey was foggy and unclear. It's neither a dark, dominant black or a clean, pristine white; it remains the clueless shade in the middle. For all the times you felt unsure- you were grey.
White is a sign of innocence and holiness.
My dirty, sinful life consisted of sex, drugs and misbehaving so I could assure you that never in my entire-fucking-life had I been emotionally white.
Black, however, maybe. It represented darkness. A bad-ass stereotype laced around the vacant colour- I could consider myself a match.
Although, as time traveled on, I realised black wasn't as fitting as I'd first perceived it to be. Black was empty like a midnight's hollow sky. You'd think the stars would provide company- wrong. The stars may hang above us, but they're distant. In dreams, stars appeared close and magical; reality placed them twice as far as our naive beliefs hoped. Stupid humans. The sky was a desolate black space, a blank void that absent-minded souls gazed up to in search of a meaning.
