Colours|| k.th + j. hs [Completed]

Blue Shoes

     Here, the skies are supposed to be blue....

The clouds white and the sun yellow. The grass lacked color, the trees are gray and my mind is blank.

      HoSeok sat quietly on the park bench, his mind void of all thoughts and emotions as he stared off into the distance at his lifeless surroundings. He could see that everyone was happy, their bodies seemed to expressed that. But somehow, their faces all seemed to morph into a pain filled expression.

     Was this all a reflection of how he felt on this inside? Most likely.

   HoSeok watched with round dull eyes at a group of boys kicking a soccer ball around. They all had big smiles on their faces in reality yet, in his mind they all scowled. He wanted to smile again, he truly did but there was something about his mind, it was all his mind. Playing tricks and games on him, morphing his thoughts, feelings, his very imagination into something so cruel, so haunting and painful that he just couldn't bring himself to simply think.

It hurts to think. To have these vicious voices inside your head, telling you what you knew to be wrong... what you wanted to be wrong but couldn't help accepting. He didn't want to feel numb anymore. HoSeok wanted to see the world for what it truly was, colorful and full of life. Filled with burning desires and dreams to be and experience. Who wouldn't want to be apart of that, he'd think to himself.

Maybe instead of saying that he didn't think enough, you could say that it was the complete opposite and that he thought too much. Succumbing and crippling himself within his own imagination.

Worthless.... Unloved....Ugly!

Ugly seemed to be the prevalence when it came to his nightmares. Haunting him whenever he found the courage within himself to stare into the mirror for longer than what he'd like to. When he saw the bruises from his own undoing.... He'd hit himself, slapping and thrashing... cursing and hurting. Those were the evils that spawned the delicate sprinkles of broken vessels across his once silky smooth skin. HoSeok never could find the courage and strength to rip apart the surface of his skin.

   Something held him back. Maybe he simply hasn't met that side of himself yet. The shade he was missing in his pretentious color scheme.

That something being that one day, if he prayed hard enough.... this would all be over.

   HoSeok's glossy and absent eyes suddenly seemed to grow more focused. Not because he wanted to, but due to the fact that he was now falling backwards, falling slowly against the hard wooden bench table against his own will. Large eyes shifting from playing kids to clouds, endless white fluffy clouds. Then it hit him, literally hit him. The small soccer ball bouncing off of his forehead.

Did he feel the pain? HoSeok wasn't sure why, but something ticked inside him and just as quickly as it happened, he wanted to laugh.

   Laugh at the fact that he was knocked over by a flimsy ball, casting him backwards to further stare off into the vastness of the never ending sky. It was also quite comical watching the ball gently roll over the side of the table like it's finally accomplished it's one mission in life.

He couldn't decipher what exactly that mission was, but as he was jolted forewords by a large warm hand gripping his, he quickly grew to realize that his life was about to make a change for the better.

"Oh my god!! I'm so so sorry about that!" This voice was deep, holding a melodic tinge to the way his voice rose and fell on each syllable. How fascinating.... intriguing... interesting. HoSeok wondered if he was using the right words, adjectives. His mouth was drier than usual, hearing that voice slowly tickling the smooth of his ears.

How could one possibly see someone for who they really were before even seeing their face? How could you read a person page by page just by the way they spoke? Almost like you've known them your entire life?

It was like this. dé·jà vu.

HoSeok didn't seem to realize that someone was really holding onto his hand until the soft clouds left his line of vision and that sweet voice invaded his senses. All this time, he found himself afraid to look up simply because this was new. Someone was touching him. Someone he didn't know, someone he didn't authorize, someone he didn't give permission to. Why?

     "I'm sorry, are you hurt? I'm willing to pay any medical exp-" Without much thought the boy ripped his hand from the unknown, tightly gripping it his chest as he stared down at the dull grass.

How frustrating. Touch, he hated being touched.

    "It's okay..." His voice was rough, hoarse and tired. Did he just openly speak to someone? A random stranger at that? Could it be because he felt something? Something so new and frightening. Was it that voice? Who did that voice belong to? HoSeok doesn't want to know, or that's what he'd like to tell himself.

    Somewhere between his mental rant, his eyes travelled. Moving from his dirty ripped black jeans and his tattered white sneakers to the gentle swaying grass beneath the owners feet of those pretty baby blue shoes.

    "I'm Taehyung."