She stared up at the sky. The horizon had become a combination pink and purple and blue. The autumn leaves stirred and fell gracefully into place; completing the mosaic of yellows, oranges, reds, and browns. Her face was kissed by whispers of cold, crisp air.
“I can’t put what I’m feeling into words.”
“Try.” He said it as if it were the easiest thing in the world, as if she was black and he was white. Black and white.
She sat up and said, “This isn’t black and white, Noah. We aren't black and white. I am burning red and you are the color of the sea. I am your passion, you are my tranquility. I am blazing, you are mending. I have never died out; you are constantly leaving and coming back. I am my ever present red lips, you are your old blue converse. I am the sunrise, you are the sunset. We are anything but black and white. We are the shades of everything and nothing.”
Noah tilted his head and looked deep into her eyes with his own. His eyes were brilliant, sparkly things that were constantly changing. Today they were pools of green. Grace was drowning in them. No, suffocating. She was suffocating on every word he wasn’t saying.
He finally spoke, though his words were slow. “I can’t put what I’m feeling into words, either. But oh god, I can feel it. I feel it in the silence, during our little talks, and while I'm holding you. I feel the light of your love creeping into the darkest corners of my heart and I still feel the traces of your touch on my skin. Maybe we aren’t black and white, but- but I’ve always felt like I am. Then you came along. You make me see and feel colors I’ve never felt before. And you see colors in me I can’t see. With you life is a combination of bright, screaming colors. And one thing I know for sure is I can’t ever go back to black and white.”
“Then don’t,” she whispered.