Vincent Glen was always told by his mom what the colors were like. He would look at her shirt and ask what color it was. He would look at the trees and ask what color they were. He would look at the sky and ask,
"Mommy, what is blue like?"
Mrs. Glen would simply laugh.
"Sweetie, I've told you about all the colors twenty times already."
"Well I want to hear about blue again."
The six year old stands up, pulls on his mother's shirt, clings to his mother's leg, and gives his mother a gummy smile. A tooth missing.
She laughs.
"It's a peaceful color. The calm of a clear sky and soft waves. It's intense. Waves crashing against the pier."
She precedes to poke his stomach at that point.
"It's the color of sadness. Rainy days."
She proceeds to wiggles her fingers and make rainy sounds. Vince giggles and joins in.
"It's a color I'm sure you'll love when you meet your soulmate."
"When will I meet my soulmate?"
"I don't know honey, but I'm sure it will be soon."
Vincent Glen spends the next seventeen years seeing in monochrome.
Vincent Glen is going to be late to his first day of working at the school. For some reason Vince calls miraculous he was able to secure a job teaching at a private liberal arts high school that pays more that he ever thought teachers could make. And he's going to be late for probably the greatest job in the world.
To lost in thought and panicking at his tardiness, he didn't notice the body barreling towards him.
Vincent's shirt was soaked. His shirt was white. And his white shirt was stained brown with coffee. What a beautiful way to start the day.
Brown
He looks at the man. Who was bearing a similar coffee stain. Blue eyes. Black hair. A head taller. And he looks like a fucking model.
"Phone," the 'model' says hand out strech.
Vince hands it to him.
That's all he can do.
"The name's August. I'm sorry about the coffee. I'll call you."
"Vincent." He takes to hand and shakes it.
"I'll see you around, soulmate." August says as he turns. Looking back to trow a wink over his shoulder.
Vince wakes from his daze, and runs into the school.
August Mayfair: Hey. srry we couldn't talk earlier. I was late for wrk. so.....
Vincent Glen: No, it's fine, I also was late.
August Mayfair: Do u think we could go out 2 dinner. Or grab coffee sometime. I rlly want 2 apologize 4 the coffee
Vincent Glen: Yeah, sure! I would love to. (^-^)
"I'm a fashion photographer for L'amour Vrai."
"Are you sure you're only a photographer? You look like a fucking runway model."
"I could say the same to you." Vince turn red and he couldn't believe anyone could get this red till now.
Dinner. Candles. August Mayfair pulled all the stops. He's 24, making big bucks, and has the most captivating heart shaped smile.
Vincent can't believe this is happening. He spent at least three hours coming through his newly dyed vibrant orange hair and cleaning his square anime glasses, while the person seated across from him looks like he woke up gorgeous.
Vince is at August's little studio apartment, to only find beer, guac, and leftovers in the refrigerator.
"We are going grocery shopping right now."
"Okay?"
"How have you managed to live without me?"
"I don't know babe."
"Up. Move. Shopping. Now."
"Okay." August agrees and stands to get dressed for the October chill. But he doesn't stand up without leaving a big sloppy kiss on Vince's cheek.
"Gross." He laughs, "Come on."
Vince leads the way.
"What are you going to make?" August asks looking around the pasta row like a lost puppy. Black beanie hiding his untamed hair.
Vince swings his leather jacket over his shoulder and dramatically turns. Pointing his finger at his boyfriend. And says in a voice similar to Tamaki Suoh
"I will be making, the ULTIMATE Italian comfort food, PASTA!"
"Can there be carrots in the the pasta?"
"Fuck no, I hate carrots monochrome or colorful."
They wander around the store some more.
"Aug, look the fruit's pink!" Vince says while jumping up and down. Onyx eyes wide with wonder.
"Babe, that's dragon fruit." August says shaking his head in wonder.
After four months, Vince asks August to move in with him.
"You practically live here already."
August lets out laugh. Like music.
"True."
So a week later August Mayfair is officially a resident of Vincent's New York city town house.
And of course two weeks later they've had sex on almost every surface of their home.
"Vince, what's your favorite color?" August asks while running his hands through the electric pink hair.
"All of them."
"You can't do that."
"Sure I can, what's yours?"
"Blue."
"Why?"
"Blue is versatile. It's sadness, peace, vibrancy all rolled into one bundle."
The next day Vincent comes home with aqua blue hair.
They celebrate their six year anniversary in the park, sitting right under a beautiful pink cherry blossom. When August spots the little girl in the middle of the street.
"HOLY SHIT." August runs out, before Vince can notice anything. August pushes the girl out of the way. And what Vincent sees next is in slow motion.
The truck.
August.
The collision.
August on the street.
The blood.
Vincent is right next to him.
"FUCK AUGUST MAYFAIR WAKE UP!"
The color is dissappearing.
He can see it all.
The girls hot pink dress turning grey.
The cherry blossoms turning grey.
And those beautiful, peaceful
turn
ing
g
r
a
y
He places the blue forget me nots by his grave.
At least the lady told him they were blue.
He likes going to his grave because the grass there is still gray but has taken up some greenish undertones.
The sky turns a blueish gray also.
He wants the color to come back.
More importantly he wants his Auggie back.
Vince wanders aimlessly around for a nearby restraunt.
He doesn't pay attention to the car barelling towards him.
It doesn't hurt.
Auggie once told him that the brain releases endorphins when you die.
He's fine with dying.
He knows he won't see Auggie when he dies.
But the sky is a vibrant blue, just like his eyes.
