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He could have even shown them, how all the red sunsets and the yellow beaches and the green garden and the blue skies always ended up in black. All the happiest moments which were remembered in the brightest of colours and the tangiest of memories were all lies.The only truth was that it would always end in black.When everything came to an end, black would be the only one who would give you company. Black was everyone’s best friend and worst enemy.But it depended on you, it always did.He swam to shore, his mind still wrapped up in thoughts of black, and as soon as his toes were tickled by the wet sand, he looked up, just to make sure she was still there, that she hadn’t been lost to the black that he seemed to carry with him everywhere.To his utter surprise, she was not air as he had expected. Her body was still there, and it was bathed in the white moonlight that never seemed to reach him.She ran a hand through her damp hair, and her pearly white teeth glistened in the spotlight that was on her.As she glided towards the water and her glistening body slowly began to disappear under the water, he watched until the white faded out of existence, and there was only black left.SheShe missed the nail polish she had bought for herself when she made contact with the water. She missed its reliable colour, and how well it would have suited her. She knew exactly why she had thrown it away.She hadn’t wanted to erase the white.Her body belonged in the slippery water. It was meant to be there, it fit perfectly. The waters seemed to part and curl to receive her as she pushed her legs until they screamed in pain and she laughed with joy at their protests, her breath coming up in small shiny bubbles under the sea, even though she couldn’t see them.When she turned over and performed a backstroke, she could see the moon, the white blinding her and comforting her. It was a perfect circle today, tarnished in some places. Everything was imperfect. Even the moon. Even her.The white of the moon was just like the kind of white he had always been in her life, the white she couldn’t tear her eyes away from, the white that was always there and never let her down, no matter how many others had managed to do that.Whatever happened, he was there.And he carried the white with him, wherever he went.It seemed to flow with him effortlessly, the white that made up all the colours that existed and even the ones that didn’t. He added colour to everything he touched, it was like magic. He saw the colours and became the colours. He saw her, and thought she was perfect, even though the moon wasn’t. She knew she wasn’t, but when he looked at her, she could feel the other colours in the pit of her stomach.He was colourful beyond comprehension.She was the colourless one, the one who saw the world and saw nothing that was worth looking at, except for him and the moon.He was her moon.Broken in some places, tarnished in others, but more whole than she ever thought was even possible.TheyShe was out of the black and water and in his arms before she could take in all the white.His slender hands trickled over her body and brought back all the colours, the black and whites, and even the greys.His lips cupped hers, and their colours were blurred.As he lowered her to the sand that lined the beach, she knew that he wouldn’t let go. And she wouldn’t either.Their bodies were sticky with the remnants of each other. 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