I love seeing you in colors.

You don't notice me at all. You've never noticed me. Heck, you probably don't know me. But I know you, and I know that I love seeing you in colors.

You were wearing yellow the first time I saw you. The sun was hot and shining in the sky, and you were leaning against the brick wall our school, your shirt standing out against the the dull brown background. I especially loved how the yellow complimented your green eyes, how it made them seem brighter, livelier.

When it rains, I find that you wear blue. Every single time. I imagine you are friends with the weather gods and coordinate with the rain so that you can wear something blue. It's endearing, seeing you fiddle the blue buttons of your blue shirt as you gaze outside, then softly closing your eyes as you listen to the pitter patter of the rain.

When someone from school died you didn't wear black. Instead, you wore red. More than half of the school wore black that day but you wore red. It made your skin shine, and your lips looked even more red. I heard someone ask why you wore red and you answered it was the dead's favorite color. You were always beautiful, especially inside, and I loved that.

You look so good in color. The world could go dark but I bet you'd shine. It doesn't matter what color you were wearing, it will always look good on you. To top it off, you were also kind, gentle, loving. You have a beautiful soul, so beautiful. Maybe that's why all colors look good on you, because they're reflecting your kind heart.

Soon, I found that it didn't matter to me what color you were wearing. Because out of all colors, the brightest and most beautiful was you.