Vantablack
PROLOGUE
Black isn't always the darkest hue of the spectrum.
He didn't know if he was still listening. He didn't know if he was still in the line. All that he knew is that there were phantoms he wanted to get finally rid of, there were skeletons he wanted to bury and undoubtedly, there were tears that he needed to dry out, for once and for all.
A room that was pitch black retracted its dimness as feeble hands turned a desk lamp on; the dim light illuminated around his shivering shoulders yet he noticed his eyes hurt.
Desperation clogged his throat and the words left a bitter taste to it "Say it," he mumbled softly, "Say I was never important."
The other side was received with his lumber silence and his own hands that were shaking and tightening the phone as if his life depended on it, only hesitated on their grip once he finally heard him. But he didn't speak right away, he just sighed. As soon as he sighed for a second time, Rakuen knew his heart would never cease to break.
"You were not."
.
