COLORS // MUKE

four

It was a couple days later, Luke and Michael had not spoken since school had gotten out for a couple of weeks, no matter how hard Calum tried. Luke was feeling much better, which to him was a blessing because going three days without singing is torture. 

His parents were going out of town for the weekend, they went on business trips most weekends out of the year so Luke was lonely a lot. Since he was alone and wanted human interaction, he called his friend Heather.

"Hey puke!" Heather said into the phone.

"Very funny Heather, anyway, come over I have some things to tell you if you haven't heard already,"

"Oh do you mean you passing out at lunch for no reason and then disappearing?" she said 

"Hahah," Luke said nervously, "there is a reason, but I wanna tell you in person," 

"Alright be there in 10!" she yelled and then hung up, she was an odd one.

While he was waiting for her to arrive, he looked at his surroundings. Color was everywhere, he was really missing out. When he had got home the first day, he inspected himself in the mirror. He had nice eyes, a nice blue to balance out his skin tone. He had noticed that the color of his walls were green and his favorite acoustic guitar that he adored had an odd orange spot on the neck. Little things that he noticed just made his whole outlook on life a little better.

"AYE YO LUKE I'M HERE!"Heather screamed from the doorway, walking in with the same red flannel she wore every day, but now Luke got to see it in its full glory. 

"I like that flannel on you, the color really suits you," way to be sly, Luke.

"Wait, no way, you can fucking see?" Heather asked, feeling baffled that her best friend could finally see color.

"Sadly," Luke said.

"Why sadly? Who's your quote on quote, "soulmate"?" she asked, sitting on the sofa next to the blond haired boy.

"That's the bad part, you won't fucking believe my luck," Luke said, putting his head in his hands.

"Just tell me who it is you wank,"

"It's Michael Clifford," 

Silence.

"No, fucking, way" is all Heather could say for about five minutes. She paced around the room with her hand on her chin.

"How fucking cliche, you guys hate each other but in reality you're destined to be in love and date and kiss and shit,"

"Let's get one thing straight, I will NEVER love Michael Clifford,"