Phan One Shots - jilliancares

Who Needs A Color?

tw: curse words, a homophobic guy

Dan Howell hated the color blue. He avoided it like it was the plague, and he never bought clothes that were blue or could be considered blue. There was a reason that Dan hated this color, of course. It was because he couldn't see it.

When he was little he had been obsessed with blue, wanting to know what it looked like more than anything. By now, he'd given up on such childish fantasies and starting thinking about it from a realistic point of view. Not everyone finds their soulmate, and Dan could very well be one of them. It was likely that Dan would never see that color in his life, and he wouldn't be the only one.

He hated the gray he saw wherever the absence of blue was. He despised looking at the sky and seeing white, puffy clouds floating in a sky of gray. The gray didn't look bad, since he was used to it and all, but he really hated how other's would talk about how pretty the sky was when all he could see was stupid gray.

Dan didn't understand the fascination people had with the ocean, who would want to go swimming when their bodies were built for land? And more importantly, who could possibly want to get lost in a sea of darkness, and ocean of gray? Dan guessed that it was probably people who could see the color blue, but he still didn't get the hype.

It was a struggle going shopping. He liked wearing black and gray, dark colors really suited him best, but he sometimes forgot that blue turned into different shades of gray for him. On more than one occasion he'd had a friend tell him how good he looked in blue, and only then realize that what he was wearing was not a dark gray, but a navy blue. How he hated navy blue.

"What can I get you?" The barista asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. Dan cleared his throat before placing his order, the whole while staring at his feet.

It was a bad habit that he'd picked up, and he knew it was a bad habit, and yet he wasn't keen to drop it. Ever since he'd decided that he didn't care if he ever found his soulmate and that the color blue could go fuck itself for all he cared, he'd begun staring at his feet. He'd thought, hey, if I never look anyone in the eyes, then I can't possibly find my soul mate! It was a sad thought process, and Dan supposed that he was doing it mostly out of bitterness, as almost all of his friends had already found their soulmates.

So Dan stared at his feet as he walked out the door with a warm coffee in hand. And he knew that at any moment in his life his soulmate could be walking by, and he could simply look up and see that damned color...

No, Dan didn't need a soulmate. He didn't need to be able to see whatever it was that blue looked like. He didn't see what was so special about it anyway. And so he stared at his feet. Glared, more like.

"Watch where you're going, fag!" Someone yelled from across the street, and Dan's head shot up, already offended for the person.

"You'd think that in this day in age, when people are literally destined to be with someone, stupid homophobes like you wouldn't exist," the boy replied, his back towards Dan. He had black hair, or so Dan supposed, seeing how it could possibly just be really, really dark blue.

"Did you just call me stupid?" The bigger, oaf of a man shouted, and the boy scoffed.

"No, I called you a stupid homophobe," he snarled, and the man sprung into action, his fist flying from his side and into the other's face.

The boy stumbled backward, one hand raised to his cheek, the other extended towards the attacker, as if to ward him off. By this point Dan was already sprinting across the street and stepping in front of the black-haired boy.