He has periwinkle wings. A shade darker than his eyes. Translucent; Irridescent. They're folded against his back now; he's watching the frogs in the pond. How they leap from pad to pad. He loves nature so much.
His eyes are dancing: the most beautiful thing about him, so full of life and colour. So bloody innocent. I'd envy him, but I love him too much. So much my heart aches.
He looks at me with a face of relaxed excitement. "Aren't they pretty, Dan?"
I smile. He's so adorable: child like.
"Yeah. Not as pretty as you, though," I reply, not taking my eyes off of him. He giggles, reaching for my hand. He brushes against my dark wings, making them twitch.
"Oi," I mumble, looking down at our entwined hands. He's so pale, almost translucent, contrasting against his raven hair. I'm naturally tanned, nothing like his ivory tone.
Waterfall noises fill the comfortable silence. I just listen. I'm not much of a nature person, honestly. But Phil is so enthralled by it, and I love seeing him happy.
I like colours more. Colours are my favourite thing: I know what they mean, what they stand for.
Phil's wings are periwinkle blue. Calm, serene, childish. Innocent. Beautiful.
Mine are vermillion red. Anger, danger, passion. Fiery. Untrustworthy.
And yet, this beautiful boy still loves me. I don't know why. We're so different, but he's so perfect. And what am I? A mess. He deserves the world, and I definitely don't deserve him.
He looks over at me now, warmth in his eyes. "Look at them. So free. I wish I was a frog." I glance over at him. He goes on.
"Bet they don't get judged on who they love." It's quiet now. I shuffle over to him until we're touching. He keeps looking into the pond, sad.
"Our voices don't harmonise. Our abilities don't match. We love each other, and I treasure that, Dan, I really do. But we can't really be... free." His voice quivers.
"Hey." I slip my arms around his waist. "We're free. We're free here, aren't we?" He looks to me. I give him a small smile.
"We love each other. And we don't have owe anyone anything. We could stay here forever, if you wanted."
"Yeah. I really, really want that." Phil stretches his wings, making a gentle breeze. Another moment's silence. "It's going to be okay, Dan? Isn't it?" I nod. He leans his pretty head onto my shoulder, going limp.
"Dan."
"Yeah?"
"Protect me?"
"With my life."
I spread my wings, stretching. And so does he. Glancing over to my back, I can see them overlapping.
They make a new colour. My vermillion wings and his periwinkle ones.
It makes purple. The colour of prosperity, of fortune, of passion.
We may not match completely, like normal couples, but we make something.
We make purple.
And I just know it's symbolic.