Red and Black

One was beautiful as Nature itself, shining with a kind of passion only found in a youth consumed- though not by love, but freedom. His face was harsh, with sharp lines, thin lips, and constantly alert eyes. And he was perfect. Strong, beautiful, devoted, harsh if needed and kind if he cared to be. The youth could be called a God; he was, occasionally. Yet he stood as one of the people, and cried out for them.

He was a leader- riding into freedom on a shining white horse, troops of loyal followers behind him. Followers to his cause, yes, but also followers of himself. One thing he did not know for the longest time, and might never have realized but for the other man.

The other seemed older than his time, with a face devoid of charm but full of humor and soft curves. His eyes, though often dull with drunkenness, were still sharp in his own right, taking in what he cared to know. He called the first divine and stood by it; indeed, he believed in no other God. He would never stand out unless he made himself to, but he took life as it came and with a smile on his face and a bottle in his hand.

It was hard for him to trust, to place love and belief in anything, let alone one single thing; and so, he strained to knock his idol down from it's pedestal and prove to himself all marble breaks. He doubted, as he did with everything, the he would succeed; he doubted, after time, that he wanted to.

The first was red, bright and eye-catching and bold. He seemed to cry out, even when silent, 'Look at me! See me! I am here!'. The other was black, content to slip into a shadow and let the powerful red overtake it, content to watch with a lazy smile and possibly an occasional backup cry of it's own. They both looked fine on their own, or paired with others, but never so right or so beautiful or so powerful as when they were paired together. Complimentary and contradictory at the same time.

But neither was ready to admit; indeed, even the blunt Black of the pair was silent when it came to the issue of the two together. It was easy to see how great they'd be, if only they'd stop resisting and allow themselves to love. But to ask that of such strong men would be like asking the sky to change it's color with the grass- it would only happen in dreams.