A/N- Hello people. This is a pretty short BL oneshot. Thought I'd write you guys a nice holiday present and look what I come up with! A nice angsty story. Hm.

Reposted as of January 9th to fix some stuff that was bothering me.

Disclaimer. Don't own the show, characters blah blah.

1.

Black and red. Black as the color of the night sky outside his bedroom window, red as the shade of her lips caressing his stomach. His moans, her shudders, echoing through the small room.

Black is the eyes his mother rolls as she pours herself a glass of red wine to forget. Forget that once upon a time she was in a bedroom moaning, young and alive before it was taken, taken as she knows it will be for them. As perhaps it already has been.

xxxxxxooooooooo

"She'll never know," comes the whisper long after the passion had ceased and hands went out, searching the bedroom no longer for companionship, but instead for clothing to put on, to cover the lingering scars.

"She'll never know," he replies in a thick voice, as though he's only just realized what he's done. She snorts a cold laugh- he knew. They both knew. Knew and did it anyway.

xxxxxxxooooooooo

She looks at him, so drunk he's putting his shirt on backwards and wonders why. After all, this was exactly the behavior she had been so furious about her best friend doing all those months ago and yet- but to think about it now made no difference. It was over now, too late to take it back, unsure of whether she would take it back.

She spares him one last glance, now in the bathroom washing off the traces of her lipstick from his face, before walking out the door, slamming it shut as she goes.

Lost in thought, or perhaps lack of it, she trips off the curb and falls into the street.

"Damnit," she mutters under her breath. Her knee is scraped, a few drops of blood fall onto the black pavement beneath her. She watches it, red against black, as the red is soaked in, lost in the never-ending black, unrecognizable.

Red for passion, red for love, red lost in the concealing black sky, lost in the whispered lies neither believed.

2.

Blue and black. Blue are his eyes watching her across the room, stealing forbidden glances while his girlfriend is occupied, black is her nail polish running through her hair as she turns away.

Blue is the dress of her friend, who watches the interaction worriedly before her husband reappears at her side in a black suit to take the worries away, to drown the blue insecurities in his black blanket of blissful ignorance.

xxxxxxooooooo

They've snuck into an empty room, they know its wrong- his girlfriend is the floor below, chatting animatedly with the guests, this isn't even their house. So wrong, and yet, she reasons, so is everything these days, and if everything were right they would still be together, Keith wouldn't have died, and the blackness wouldn't have won. So who really cared if it was right?

They fell onto the bed kissing hungrily, black nails clawing their way up his back, blue eyes open. Black nails reach his head, pushing him down into the pillow, blue eyes watch her longingly. She looks back.

Blue is for oceans untouched, for the wide open sky, for Nathan and Haley's soon to be baby boy, for innocence and naivety. Black is for wilted flowers, for asphalt covering grass, for Peyton's room, for the death of innocence.

Black nails run across his face and blue eyes close, because black must win in the end and innocence must die eventually.

3.

Black and yellow. Yellow is her unkept hair flying in the wind as she cries about how she needed her best friend this past year, black her own hair as she stares back, biting back a million comebacks about how the feeling goes both ways.

Yellow is also the hair of the boy she goes to next, black is her eye, given to her from her supposed best friend. He laughs at her and she throws something at him and for a moment everything is normal. But the moment passes and nothing is normal, because it was his girlfriend that made her eye black, the girlfriend with the yellow hair who doesn't know what goes on behind closed doors, who still wants her best friend back.

xxxxxxooooooo

They've fought again, something about prom that she doesn't really remember, but he's here, not there, and it doesn't matter that she's spent all this time preparing for this night; that he isn't her date, because it's him and it never really mattered.

He comes baring flowers that she's sure were meant for someone else but she smiles and accepts them anyway. He slips a CD into her player and flips it to the right song that she is sure was meant for her and her arms wrap around his head, rubbing the yellow hair, and his arms around her black slip and once again everything is perfect and they dance.

But then, happy and angst free has never been their specialty; this is the first time they met not just for sex in months and it doesn't last long. The doorbell rings and its Mouth, looking adorable and having no way to know what he's interrupted, so she smiles and says she needs to get her dress and runs upstairs. He's gone, and the song still plays and nothing will ever be perfect will it?

Yellow for the sun, for halos, for dyed hair, for the perfect couple that isn't really perfect. Black is for the night, which always overtakes the sun anyway, and for her, who will always come between the dream couple that will turn into a nightmare before either admits it.

4.

Black and red. Red is passion and Valentines day and Cupid. Red is love, is roses. Red is blood, for the casualties left in the raging love's path. Black is the suits and the coffins. Red are the puffy eyes, black is the eyeliner to cover them. Red is pain, and black is nothing, is the absence of pain and the absence of light and the absence of love. Red is the fight, the rebellion, black is the inevitable.

Red is their hearts joined together, black is the crack that broke them apart.

A/N- Please drop a review and Happy Holidays to all! And to all a good night!