Colours

He is on his way home on the last day of a long week, and looks forward to a couple of days of breathing room, where he can do things at his own pace. He looks forward to having only the aroma of his morning coffee forcing him out of bed, and sighs.

She is waiting at home, eyes lit up as she seems him reach the front door. Times have been hard for her as well, because for the past few weeks he has hardly noticed her. Sometimes, she feels like he doesn't care, but she knows that isn't true. Still, she wishes he would smile more often, and that she could be told how he felt, rather than just having to know it. That will all change soon, she thinks, as she gleefully imagines his face as he walks into his room.

He feels drained, and wonders how he has mustered the energy to get through this day, where everything has seemed to go against him. He sees her as he comes in, and notices she seems more upbeat than normal. "I'm not in the mood for good-humoured people", he thinks, but immediately feels bad about it. He greets her with a weak smile, and provides monosyallbic responses to enquiries about his day.

She understands, of course, what he is going through, and so doesn't feel all that bad that he is uncommunicative. She pretends to walk away innocently to the kitchen, but in fact lies in waiting, looking for just the right time to catch him in his room.

He goes into his room. The lights are off, and it is dark outside, but he can still make out something on his bed. He squints, and sees that it is a shirt. A flick of the light switch reveals it to be a most beautiful shirt, the kind he only saw on other people, but never on himself. He realizes it is a gift from her, and beams to himself. Perhaps this day will turn out ok after all, he thinks.

She catches him in the room with a great big grin on her face, searching for some sort of reaction from him. He gives a modest smile, and she feels validated - she would have preferred a word of thanks, but no matter. Such things are of little value to her in the grand scale of things, and so she gladly takes the smile as being thanks enough. She implores him to try it on, so that she may comment on how nice it looks on him.

For some reason, he does not take to the idea too well. He feels the strain of the day again, and it makes him want far more to just drop down on his bed first. His mind slowly wanders to other things, and he temporarily forgets the value of the gesture she has made. He says he will do it in a little while, little aware of how brusque it sounds.

She is taken aback, but does not show it. "How busy he must be", she says to herself, but she doesn't quite convince herself. In fact, she is more than a little hurt, for she had so dearly hoped that he would indulge her. "It's the least he could do, right?", she begins to ask herself, but she cuts herself short, and reminds herself of how busy he must be. She nods as though sympathetically, and leaves him to his thoughts.

Tired though he may be, as the minutes go by he starts to wonder if she might have taken offence at him. He slowly comes around to trying it on, but while doing so begins cursing the rest of the world for his troubles. "Fie upon them all", he says, "for without them, my mind would be free to see and act upon such things". He picks it up, and thinks that it might in fact be a bit small. He slips it over his ill-defined body, and his fears are confirmed. He can tell that it is far too tight for his liking.

She wanders in later and sees him in it. "The colour really suits him", she thinks, and tells him as such. But she notices that he does not seem to enjoy it as much as she had hoped. She studies it closely, and notices that it is perhaps not as loose as it could be. She mentions as much, but adds that this is the new trend of the youth of today. She feels happy that she has for once made him fit in with the trends of the day; she has been growing weary of seeing him walk around in some of the stuff he wears. She begins to feel even happier now that she has done him this huge favour.

He, however, has not eaten for a while, and begins to feel it. He does not think straight, and as such does not think about her feelings when he says it is too tight for him to wear, with a tone of finality. He looks at himself in the mirror, each glance confirming his conviction.

She tries to tell him that she doesn't think it looks awkward at all, and that all the people she knows wear things like this all the time, but he hears none of it. She begins to get irritated at his lack of trust in her judgement, but she still tries to keep it in check. She ends up pleading with him, imploring him to give it a try.

He can no longer remember why he did not listen to her then. He instead gives a sigh of defeat, and says that he will take her advice, but does so in the most unconvincing tone possible. His manner suggests that he feels like he is making a huge accomodation for her. She cannot believe it.

She walks away with a mixture of untapped anger and intense sorrow. She begins to wonder why she even bothered to go through the hassle of doing something nice for him. "When did he become so ghastly?", she sobs to herself later that night.

After his hunger is satisfied, his mind comes back to him. He begins to realize what he has said and done, and wonders how he could have been so blind and ungrateful. His mind goes back to the times she has gone out of her way to stick up for him and get him through all manner hardships. He begins to blame it on his work, but wonders if it was his true nature that was on display for her to see.

He knows that he should probably apologize, but he doesn't have it in him to be so direct. Instead, he goes over to her later in the night and tries to be affectionate. She politely lets him explore her hair, but is passively unreceptive. Dejected, he leaves her to her peace, and he laments the coming weekend.

The next day, as they see each other, there is no hint of what passed yesterday. He hardly remembers it, until he sees the shirt again when he opens his cupboard. She notices it as well, and says she will return it. There is no hint of bitterness or irony in her voice, nor is there any to be found in her heart. He sheepishly thanks her, and they share a smile.