❝You'll meet her, she's very pretty, even though sometimes she's sad for many days at a time. You'll see, when she smiles, you'll love her.❞ − Pan's Labyrinth, Dir. Guillermo del Toro

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Indigo.

The only color I love. The only word I love. The only name I love. The only woman I love.

Yes you. You Indigo. It's always you − it's always been you. And no matter how hard you try to tell me that I don't know what I'm talking about I will still continue to feel this way.

You are Indigo. A human among others so sweet. A human among others trying to survive. A human among others trying to convince. Trying to convince the rest of society of their wrong doings.

And they don't listen Indigo, but I do. And that's something that I can swear on. Something that I can give you my word on. I have never told you this and I should more often but you make me feel more at home within your voice rather than my own bed.

Yes, you.

You used to tell me that you always tried your best to stay away from a majority of the boys in high school. For they were cruel, misleading, judgmental, and stuck in their ways of using and talking about girls as if they were objects.

They demeaned girls who weren't up to their standards and called them out for it. And god Indigo it pains me to have ever admitted to you that I was one of those boys. I was one of those immature shit filled and close minded fools. I was but I am no longer. And I grew. I grew up and I discovered you. I discovered myself.

And yet I'll never stop apologizing for ever being that way. And I'll never stop apologizing for loving who you are and what you are. And that will never change. Not even the fact that you're a mess.

And that's okay Indigo, because I'm a mess too. And we're all messes. We're all incomplete combustions and compilations of wants and needs and hurt. We are all yearning to be complete.

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"Who are you here to see?" A faint whisper uttered from a few seats down from me.

The shaking of my left leg froze and I whipped my head towards the unknown voice.

I stared at the young boy whom sat there in a daze with a sickly pale face and two marked arms laid out on his lap.

"My girlfriend," I answered shortly.

Not letting my intense gaze on his arms go unnoticed he quickly crossed them over and smiled nervously.

"Oh." He opened his mouth to add something else and then scolded himself.

Shaking his head he apologized feverishly.

"I'm scared," he wavered.

I could already tell from his disoriented posture. From his ghost like face and flawed arms I could already figure out the reason as to why he was here.

"So was she."

"Your girlfriend?" He questioned anxiously.

I let my eyes wander off to the receptionist and returned back to his stare.

"Yeah," I replied, shifting in my seat.

The sounds of nurses chattering entered the waiting room. One looked over at the boy and plastered a smile onto her face.

"Grey? Come on buddy it's time to clip on your new wrist bands and get changed into your new clothes!"

He gave me a sour look, not wanting to leave, but eventually did anyway. I wanted to tell him that he shouldn't be scared. That he would get better, but I couldn't tell him any of those things if I didn't know myself.

"Ivan?"

I hastily perched myself up from my seat and quickly walked over to the front desk.

"She's having conversational time right now, playing chess. You can go in, you know the drill."

I nodded my head, spoke a small thank you, and paced myself towards the large metal door. I could hear as the receptionist clicked the security button ensuring that I could go in. Instantly, a buzzer rang and the door opened. Nurses were everywhere. As were patients. I could hear screaming from halls away. I could sense the pain. I shook my head.

Carrying down a different hall, I didn't dare to stare at anyone. My heart began to pick up its beat once I was close to the engagement room. The closer I got, the harder my breaths.

I halted in front of the door and looked through the small window. I searched for you in the room with other patients. I could feel the eyes of a guard standing just feet away on me. I ignored him and continued to look in.

I could see a teen girl sitting in a corner with her dark hair in her face. She rocked back and forth steadily. I gulped and looked away.

Looking to the right I finally peaked over to the chess table. I tensed up. You sat alone, playing by yourself.

In that moment I wanted to fall to my knees and cry. I wanted to cry for you. I wanted to but I didn't. Instead, I placed my hand on the door latch and pulled it open.

Your eyes widened as you looked up at me. The chess piece fell from your hand with a loud smack!

"I knew you'd come!" You cheered.

A boy sitting by himself at the window turned and covered his ears, shushing you in the oddest of ways.

I offered you a small smile and walked over, placing my body next to yours on the bench.

"It's a better day Indigo."

"Umhm," you mumbled, grinning at your palms.

I hesitantly tilted up your chin and placed a light kiss on to your soft lips. Pulling away, I began to twirl your unruly strands that had fallen to the side of your neat bun.

"Your nurse told me that you're going to be let go in a couple of days. She tells me you're getting better," I informed you, leaning my forehead against your own.

You sighed and touched my cheek with your rich fingers.

"I'm getting better for you Ivan. I'm grateful for you," you whispered. "You love me without expecting me to change, even though I refuse to love myself."

"Indigo," I started.

You placed a finger on my lips, stopping me from speaking any further.

"Tell me," you urged.

"Hm?" I hummed questionably.

"Tell me what you love about me."

A large cheesy smile etched onto my previously confused face.

"I was just getting to that," I kissed your nose. "A wilting flower among others, yet you still remain. I love your skin. I love your hair. I love your lips. I love your body. I love your eyes. Your everlasting beauty is more than just a face. You are indefinitely true and devastatingly real. And Indigo, I live for you."