Oh hey look I wrote something.

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Dust hated the rain. It was such an ugly form of weather, watering down the vibrancy of the world to something muggy and dull. Sharp sounds became muffled before the incessant pounding of water droplets. People hid inside to keep themselves warm, and those left outside were never spared from the torrents. Things of delicate beauty, like a flower in bloom, found themselves battered into shaking submission, bowing to the crying skies. 

Everything was grey.

As he walked down the road, Dust could only hear two things; his old boots sloshing through the dirty water below, and the muted pattering of raindrops on the umbrella above. What lazy, pointless sounds they were. Greedy, even. So close yet so far to an acceptable rhythm one might enjoy, yet you were forced to listen anyway, as the sound drowned everything else out. Together, they formed a sensory haze, making the world feel blurred and small. 

Dust looked down at his boots. Between the ripples that ebbed around his dragging feet, he could just make out his own broken reflection. Shaded face, tired eyes, frowning mouth. The grey figure stared back at him, it's expression nearly one of perplexity, as if it wondered why Dust was even out here in the rain if he hated the weather in the first place.

That was a pretty good question really, and one that Dust found he didn't have any proper answer to. Looking up from his slow shuffling strides, he gazed down the small street. Nothing about his town was remarkable, and this street was surely no exception. Just another grey street out of many, crowded by grey stores and grey houses that were surrounded by grey people. Nothing to note. Certainly nothing to offer. The only thing Dust could say about the whole area was that it was a good place to walk around if you weren't paying attention, as you'd always end up back where you started eventually. 

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see the hazy figures of other people. He couldn't tell whether they were monsters or humans. All he could see were the stiff strides of a few people in business clothes, their pace hurried as they passed. Dust always found them sort of funny. The way they walked was so peculiar, just fast enough to remain a walk but always edging on a run, such as that someone would occasionally falter and try to collect themselves as quickly as possible to resume their journey. It was as if they felt they would be scolded if their polished shoes clattered too loudly on the pavement. 

Why were they even hurrying anyway? Where were they trying to go? What did they need to do? Nobody went anywhere, not in this town. Everyone was in a state of constant limbo, surviving, but never really living. People  moved, sure, but Dust knew they had nowhere to be. 

There were a few other strangers he could see that mirrored himself, their backs slightly hunched as their feet dragged through the muck. Some carried umbrellas like him. Others didn't seem to care, the rain soaking into their clothes and seemingly into their very being, weighing them down so that they eventually stopped, staring at the ground for indeterminate amounts of time. 

These individuals Dust understood. He didn't know their stories, nor did he really care, but he knew why. Why they walked in the rain. The world was grey for them, perhaps not like it was for him, but in one way or another, it was grey. It was grey like the rain, but the rain was always grey. The rain was supposed to be grey, and so in a way, it made things make sense. It made the world feel normal, giving one a muted feeling almost like comfort, just tinged with lingering sadness that was carried with the breeze and got soaked into your clothes as the rain fell down. 

That was why Dust walked in the rain. He hated it bitterly, but it brought him peace. He hated the lack of color, but felt strangely comforted at the thought that rain was like that for everyone. 

Dust tilted his head up, looking out into the rolling clouds that smothered the town, forming a roof that looked misleading soft, when in reality it was wet and cold, like everything else. Occasionally, a piece of the sky fought through, appearing for an instant in it's perceived opaqueness before being whisked away from view at the clouds drew over the small gap. Some may have been able to perceive the brief flickers as something symbolic, but to Dust it was all the same. What difference did it make? It was all grey anyway. 

He'd been told of the usual vastness of the sky, and how on most days it proclaimed it's grandness with a subtle variety of soft, smooth blues, but Dust could never really see it. Not that that surprised him in any way, more serving as a cruel reminder that he still couldn't see color. 

He had yet to find his soulmate, the magical person meant just for him, who'd light up the world as soon as their eyes met. The thought in itself was so absurd that if the rest of the world didn't confirm such a phenomenon actually existed, he never would have believed it for a second. He didn't even know what color looked like, so how was he to know it was actually real? You couldn't describe it really, not that anyone would bother to try anyway. Dust did take notice of the various shades of grey he could see, realizing that they had to represent different colors, but in reality most shades fell into the indefinite middle category, undeterminable if you were to compare a few different shades side by side. 

They were just like people in a way. People were all the same too. That's why Dust doubt he'd ever find his soulmate. There was nothing to find in the turned backs and clouded eyes of strangers. He hated the thought of how indifferent they all were, almost as much as he hated the rain. 

Turning a corner, Dust continued on until he took note of his fingers, which had at some point in time started tapping against the side of how leg as he walked. He watched the stained phalange of his pointed finger move up and down, creating just enough pressure to be felt through the fabric of his faded jeans. As Dust watched, he realized they moved to the beat of some sort of melody, which he had unconsciously been listening to. 

Drawing his hand away from his thigh, Dust tipped his head up a bit, just enough to scan the surrounding area. The sound was very faint, and from where he stood he couldn't tell where it was coming from, apart from the fact that it was drifting towards him from further down the road. 

Not realizing he had stopped, Dust pushed himself back into his lagging pace, a conscious effort on his part, as he kept his head raised so his eyes could look. As he kept on, the music grew steadily stronger, the full extent of the simple pattern now distinguishable. It was irregular to a point, almost like the rain in a strange way, yet to Dust it felt as though the wandering of the tune was born from purpose, which the rain had never been. 

The melody was being hummed in a cheerful fashion that stood out glaringly against the not-quite-ambient background the rain produced. It was a light, carefree sound that weaved gently between the raindrops to Dust, the sound seeming to give off a sort of nostalgic warmth despite the lack of knowledge on its identity. 

He followed it like a hooked fish, his rational thought keeping him from breaking his slow pace so that he could find the source faster, but a strange sense of curiosity continued to spur him forward. 

The melody looped and curled around Dust in a gentle embrace before it reached a peak, whereupon he heard a splash from across the road. He looked up, blinking to focus his gaze as he beheld the sight of another person. Unlike those he'd spied flickering in the edges of his vision, this person was not going anywhere, nor were they standing still and unmoving. No, this individual had their rubber boots firmly planted in the midst of a large puddle, the surface of which rippled and sloshed about around the rubber footwear. 

It was evident that they had just jumped into the puddle. 

The person hadn't stopped humming their happy melody, the chorus of the song repeating again as they waded out of the large puddle to stand on firm asphalt. A gloved hand wandered up to the bottom of their bandana, twirling the tip of the fabric. The other swung ever so slightly back and forth at their side, their fingers wiggling gently while not making contact with the jacket they wore. 

The person spun their voice through the chorus, the energy and pace of the song building once again before they suddenly bent their knees, pushing off of the ground and up into the air. Dust witnessed every second of it; how their arms flung out to the sides, spread like the wings of a bird; how they tilted their boots so the soles were ready to crash back to the ground. Most notably, through, was the way that the grin they wore widened into an excited, sparkling smile as they sank back to earth, breaking the surface of the puddle and sending a wave of water in all directions. 

Bubbling laughter spilled from the person's mouth at the sight of the waves, the sound so beautifully lively that it caused the corners of Dust's mouth to curl upwards ever so slightly in silent amusement. 

All of a sudden, the person looked up, gazing across the road, their star-shaped pupils meeting Dusts, and it was at that moment, for a split second, Dust became uncomfortably aware that he had been staring. However, all was forgotten as the stranger beamed at him, their eyes sparkling as stepped out of the puddle and began to walk across the road. 

The closer they got, the more the world seemed to change, their nearing presence popping the hazy bubbled the rain had enveloped Dust in. Their boots hit the pavement softly, having gained a new clarity. Flecks appeared on the road's surface as the bricks and cement walls of the stores became more detailed and defined. The cloudy ceiling no longer looked to close, appearing to float farther and farther away as the stranger grew closer, the world gaining depth. 

He couldn't say how long it had taken them to cross, as it felt like both a moment and am eternity in a way Dust couldn't even begin to describe, but soon the stranger was upon him, the twinkling eyes that regard him holding undeniable joy. 

The two stared for a moment, seeming unbothered as they took the time to absorb every minute detail of the other, drinking it all in. Only the rain and it's incessant pattering showed the passing of time, but for them it hardly mattered as the world appeared to stand still. 

Finally, one spoke. 

"Hello new person! My name is Blue! Would you like to jump in puddles with me?" The stranger asked in a chirping tone. 

"Sure." Dust replied, his answer sounding fairly nonchalant despite the absolute lack of hesitation the decision had been made with. 

The shorter of the two beamed, holding out one of his gloved hands which Dust took his his own, wrapping his fingers around it with a soft but sure grip. The other promptly turned, tugging Dust along in a gentle manner as they made their way back across the street together.

This journey was much more brief, both finding the toes of their boots hanging over the sides of the puddle's edge.

There was no verbal prompt. The two simply looked up at each other, holding one another in their gazes as their fingers laced together, palms fitting together perfectly. With a squeeze from one that was quickly reciprocated by the other, both looked forward before they launched into the air. 

As Dust sailed through space, time seeming to one again slow down for no reason that could be explained, he looked down at the puzzle and saw... everything. The red of the brick, the yellow of the lamp posts, the black of the asphalt, the purple of his own sparkling eye sockets, and the blue, oh the beautiful blue. It rippled upon the puddle's shiny surface, spreading wider and wider until it filled the entirety of the puddle's view. Then, the mosaic of color exploded up and outwards in a radiant wave as they both made contact with the puddle at the same time. 

And they were both laughing, voices light and rich, innocent, childish mirth bubbling up from their throats and escaping from their open mouths, flying up into the air to echo around the entire street. 

Both eventually quieted in their own time, the raw humor of the moment fading to something that lingered like the sweet aftertaste of a sugary pastry. They looked at each other, this time making absolutely no move to turn away. Why would they need to? From Dust's point of view, the other held the world in their eyes. It hadn't changed much, still small, drab, and mostly grey, but it was their world now. It was theirs for the taking, and they had found it within the crystalline kaleidoscope of each other's eyes, which poured out the very contents of their souls so they could be seen clearly and enjoyed. 

Dust still hated the color grey. It was a lonely color, neither warm nor cold. Now though, it was no longer empty. No, now it held all the colors of the rainbow, blurred and blended together in a beautiful collage that painted everything in reach for them to enjoy. Dust hated grey, but now, he loved the rain. 

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I'm gonna try to get back into writing. I want to practice and expand my vocabulary and use of phrase. I also feel kinda bad for low-key dissappearing off the face of the Earth.

Also don't worry, I'll write about more than two ships. This one just happened to fit the story best, in my opinion.