Falling Into Place (Not Apart)

by honeyhoshi

"Sometimes, when life seems like it is falling apart, it might actually be falling into place." When they first found him, he had been half dead in a dirty, graffitied alleyway, singing in an angelic voice. The group took the starved, blue-haired boy out of the alley to become a full-fledged band, and their life was never again the same. Au!-Younger 2D, Older Noodle.

4. Blue

Blue.

It was a color he despised, a color that made him want to cry, scream, and puke simultaneously.

Blue. In all shades. Turquoise. Cyan. Ultramarine. Aquamarine.

He hated it so much, yearning for it to completely disappear from his life. He dreamed of better worlds where a blink of his eyes would eliminate the color from his plane of existence, where warm toned hues washed over his surroundings with pleasant sunlight, blanketing him with better tomorrows. When he regrettably woke, he spent his waking hours with reds and yellows flickering behind his eyes, whispering warmth in his skull.

Stuart would soon learn to be careful about what he wished for.

He laid on the ground, the taste of iron on his tongue, the smell apparent in his nose. Trails of thick red dripped lazily from his face, dying the azure of his hair a deep maroon. Hands would reach up to his swelling, shut eyes, only to hastily thud on the ground once more at the discovery of his own blood.

All he could think of was the older boys, once his friends, suddenly knocking him onto the ground. He somehow squeezed his eyes shut even more at the memory.

He had found long ago that he could not stand, could not open his eyes, could not even think. The pounding ache in his head made it impossible for coherent thoughts.

The low scream of sirens slowly rocked him to sleep, a slumber that would hold him in a mild coma for ten days.

When he awoke, it was heralded with his mother's screams.

His wish had been granted. Blue had been taken out of his life.

Where the crystalline color once reflected back, obsidian now swallowed the entirety of his eyes, sclera and iris alike. His vision was blurry at best, straight up nonexistent at worst. Everything seemed to hold a gray tinge, leeching the blue straight of the sky peeking through the windows. The absence of the color was nothing like what he imagined. It didn't hold the warmth of blazing campfires and portable heaters that he had dreamed of.

It felt cold.

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Sorry for not uploading for so long. I haven't been able to update with all the stress going on in my life. I'm hoping to have more consistent updates depending on the feedback of this chapter. I tried a bit of a different style, so if you could tell me your opinion it would help! I'm also going to post this on ArchiveofourOwn, if you guys like that site more? My username will be the same.

Thanks again for your continued support!