Before he came along, my life was in black and white.

I would wake up every morning to a monochrome sky, I would go to sleep and dream in black and white. I felt like I was in a never ending movie starring Charlie Chaplin, silence and colourless beings surrounding me.

The day I met him started the same, I awoke and rolled out of bed, feeling weak and fatigued. Rushing downstairs to grab an apple and heading out the door, my family had learnt to just let me go. The air was crisp and cold and I severely regretted not wearing some kind of warm clothing. The air whooshed through my thin tank top and when the rain began to pour, my jeans clung to my legs.

I ran the last few metres to the coffee shop, bursting through the door and immediately feeling the benefits of the heaters placed above me. Luckily there was only one person in front of me in the queue. A young man, with blonde hair and tanned skin. He had dressed similar to me, wearing only a tank top and some black jeans. He too had got caught in the rain as I could see the droplets hanging off the hair by his neck.

He stepped up to the counter and ordered some kind of fruity ice drink, before standing to the side waiting for his name to be called. I walked to the counter and waited for the server to come to me. When she arrived, I ordered my usual of a caramel hot chocolate with whipped cream and a ginger biscuit.

I stood near the tanned stranger, glancing sideways to try and catch his face. He had brown, almost black eyes and pink, pouted lips, and he was astonishingly beautiful. Just as I grabbed my phone out of my pocket, I heard my name being called, along with another.

Zitao. I looked up and saw the stranger reaching out to grab his drink. I saw my drink and biscuit waiting just beside his. I moved forward and as I grabbed the travel cup, I snuck in one last peek at the beautiful stranger, which was also looking at me. I smiled and quickly looked back down.

I grabbed my biscuit, slipping it under the thumb pressed against the cup so I had a hand free and went to turn around, almost falling of the small ledge that separated the counter from the other part of the shop. He grasped my free hand, lightly tugging me and settling me back onto firm ground. When he grasped my hand, that’s when it happened.

 Technicolour.