A soulmate au fic where you see color once you touch your soulmate, but the pair in question are not soulmates. Do they give a crap? No. They run away together and live out the best relationship they can have before Fate gets sick of them disobeying the rules. (I've had this idea for quote a while, but I'm not a writer lol)
âOh! Look who I bumped into!â Coincidence cooed.
âNo,â replied Fate, âthis was meant to be.â
Pink
It was glances at his lips when he was talking. It was staring at him in math class. It was seeing him in this fucking black and white world as the only thing of beauty.
Maybe pink was two weeks later. Maybe it was the taste of his lips. Maybe it was the feeling he got when he finally said fuck it and pulled Eddie towards him by the collar of his shirt. It was the heat that rose to his cheeks when he backed away. Fuck I shouldnât have done that. It was most definitely the feeling of when Eddie pressed his lips to his once more.
Red
Red was fingers digging into hipbones. It was long neck kisses. It was keeping quiet so Eddieâs mom wouldnât walk in. It was removing shirts. Unbuckling pants. It was Richie dropping to his knees. It was fingers tangled in dark curls.
It was the way Eddie looked. Eyes closed and nose scrunched up just a bit. He looked like a saint at prayer. Whoever said black and white couldnât be beautiful was as wrong ass motherfucker.
But it was also the knowledge that he wasnât seeing color when he was with him. It was not knowing what color even was. No one ever really told him.
Orange
Waking up beside him. Seeing his tired eyes smile at him. It was seeing marks on his neck. And chest. And stomach. And hips. It was knowing he was his. Eddie Kaspbrak belonged to the town trashmouth.
It was âletâs leave. Pack up everything we need, get in my shitty truck and leave.â
âWhere would we go?â
âWest.â
It was whispers and early morning plans.
âOkay.â
Yellow.
Yellow was his smile. His laughter. It was listening to the mixtapes Richie made for Eddie. It was buying postcards at gas stations to send to the other losers. They could all see colors. It was freedom and singing at the top of their lungs to shitty pop on the radio.
It was long talks about nothing in particular. It was sleeping in the bed of Richieâs truck under four blankets and a jacket or two. It was in each others arms and breathing in sync.
Green
Green was the pit. They had run out of things to talk about it seemed. They had listened to all of the mixtapes. He felt sick. He felt like he should turn around. Take Eddie home. It was knowing that they werenât meant to be.
It was Eddie not telling him he ran out of meds.
It was the color that ate away at them both.
Blue
Blue was the second worst fucking thing to ever happen. Blue was realizing they were lost. Like actually fucking lost. It was breaking down in the bed of his truck while Eddie was asking the cashier where they were.
It was pulling at his hair and sobbing. It was running out of breath from screaming at himself for the green feeling in his stomach.
It was being hopelessly in love with the most beautiful boy in the world, but still not knowing what color was. It was shaking in the cold of night. Because they were apparently up north somewhere.
It was not knowing whether or not they should go home. It was not knowing whether or not Eddie would come out of this alive.
Purple
Was the smiles they gave cashiers. Was the time Eddie spent throwing up in the bathroom. Was not knowing what the fuck was wrong with Eddie because he took too many meds to keep up with that without them the combinations of all of his apparent illnesses was becoming too big a secret to keep.
Purple was Eddie knowing time was almost up.
Purple was the night they had sex in the back of Richieâs truck. It was the soft loving kisses on every inch of the other. It was holding each other. It was scary.
Black
He wasnât breathing. Eddie wasnât breathing. It was shaking him until it started raining on Eddieâs t-shirt and Richie was the cloud. It was the deepest pit. It was dialing 911 on a pay phone.
Fate was a bitch who will do anything to get what she wants.
Black was holding him. It was brushing his hair out of his face with a shaking hand. It was telling him how much Richie loved him. It was the smile through his tears.
Black was the worst fucking thing to ever happen.
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