Jongin heard a knock on the door. He trembled at the thought of the non-blue (and non-white).

"Jongin, it's Kyungsoo,"

Jongin let the white in again, happily.

"I have to be lost to find your home,"

Jongin smiled at Kyungsoo's umpteenth smile.

Jongin did not understand.

For all he knew, one of the walls was painted white.

The next day, blue stood far from his blue walls, waiting for his White.

Silent thuds were heard, Jongin stood still, waiting for his White to appear. Though he knew it was him all along from the scent blewn by the wind.

"Kyungsoo,"

Kyungsoo smiled and walked toward the voice. Jongin held onto his arm, guiding him.

For the days they had spent together, Jongin strummed the strings. An euphoria was born, the blossoms bloom.

For once, Jongin felt like flying.

- - -

The door was knocked again, Jongin was afraid no more.

Fierce red he did not expect flashed before him.

Red.

Not blue.

Not white.

Not Kyungsoo.

Red again.

Red fluid flowed down his skin, tainting his blue.

Red, red.

Calamity red.

Blue and white.

Separated and shattered.

Red, red.

A colour of hatred.