A/N: Rated T for slight language and references to sex.
Silver cars were taunting Kendall. Okay, that wasn't entirely true and was clearly an exaggeration on his part, but it's how it felt.
He went from barely seeing any, to always seeing at least one everywhere he went. He was constantly helping little old ladies take their groceries to their silver sedans, constantly seeing silver minivans in the parking lot of the grocery store where he worked, constantly seeing silver SUVs at his school parking lot. And while he knew he shouldn't let a certain color of car get to him so much, he couldn't help it, couldn't stop the tightness in his chest or the lump that formed in his throat.
But the worst was when he saw that damn silver Porsche pulling into the school lot, hear the engine rumble as it drove down his street. Yes, it was just a car, but to Kendall it was more than that. It was the memories attached to the convertible that affected him so much. His first kiss. His first time saying "I love you". His first time having sex.
His first time getting his heartbroken.
And while he understood James' reasoning for leaving him, understood that the brunet couldn't come out just yet, that his mom would kick him out and his dad kick his ass, understood that the longer they were together, the harder it was to keep them a secret, it didn't mean Kendall liked it.
So now, like Pavlov's dogs, every time he saw a silver car of any make or model, he was instantly reminded of the numerous times his heart was so full he thought it would burst, and the one time when it did just that.