(a/n: congrats if u make it through the 4-paragraph essay that was so very essential to the plot,, wait it actually was FUCK never mind)

Patrick was a soft, inviting yellow, the kind that made you want to curl up in the sun and read a good book.

Andy was purple. A mix of lilac and some dark color, one that showed that he looked tough but was an honest and caring guy.

Joe was chartreuse. Pete couldn't tell whether it meant Joe was mellow or crazy, or even a mix of both, but he decided that it suited his friend.

And Mikey.

Mikey.

Mikey was maroon.

And Pete was completely and utterly fucked, because the color he saw with love was the exact same shade as Mikey.

"It's called synesthesia," Pete would say to Mikey. "I'm not crazy."

"I know. What color am I?" Mikey would answer.

Pete wouldn't say anything. He didn't want to lie to Mikey, but he obviously couldn't tell the truth.

Pete knew he was completely and utterly fucked (again) when he told Patrick, Joe, and Andy about his crush on Mikey.

"Come on, what color is love?"

"Oh, fuck you guys, it's maroon!"

The room went silent. "But... Isn't Mikey maroon?"

Pete, seemingly forgetting all of his dignity, grinned at his friends. "Hell, yeah."

Pete, once again, was completely and utterly fucked when his English teacher said he could write an essay on his synesthesia for extra credit.

"Synesthesia, as you may know, is the production of a sense impression relating to one sense or part of the body by stimulation of another sense or part of the body." Pete began when he presented his essay to the class. "The condition is considered rare since only 1 in every 2000 people in the world have synesthesia. But statistics are boring, so I'll explain to you what synesthesia is like.

"First, we'll start with what type- rather, types of synesthesia I have. In 2014, I was diagnosed with a somewhat common type of synesthesia- sound-vision synesthesia. Later on, I was informed that I had a second type of synesthesia- personality-vision synesthesia.  Sound-vision synesthesia basically means (for me, at least) I see certain colors when I hear certain sounds. For example, a G on the bass is dark green. A middle C on the piano is purple. There are a few other colors that I see, but we won't get into that. 

"Personality-vision synesthesia for me is just... it's weird. Sometimes, I don't even know what I see. Basically, I involuntarily associate certain people with colors. For example, my friend Patrick is a really sweet guy, so I associate him with a soft yellow. My friend Joe is chartreuse yellow; it's a bright yellow-green color. I can't tell whether it means he's mellow or energetic." Pete takes a deep breath. "My friend Mikey is maroon, which often reminds me of a cold day in a busy city. I also associate colors with certain emotions. That being said, the colors for some emotions aren't necessarily what you'd expect. Joy is orange, sadness is red, and anger is green. Panic is gray.

"Synesthesia hasn't negatively affected my personal life so far. However, it does help me greatly in subjects like art and music. I'm able to criticize music better than I ever thought I'd be able to, and if I'm ever confused on what to do in art, I play a song and put down what comes to mind. I hope, in the near future, I can help people better understand that synesthesia does not limit me, but instead encourages me. Most of all, I aspire to help researchers understand more about synesthesia and help them find out more about it."

God, Pete thought, at least it's over.

The class clapped, and Pete started to take his seat. "Oh, no, Pete," his English teacher stopped him. "I was hoping you would take questions. Is that okay with you?"

Pete nodded and stood in front of the classroom. Instantly, three hands raised. One of them was Joe, who was obviously going to make him ask what color love was--in front of Mikey. He'd been trying to get Pete to confess his schoolboy crush for almost half of the school year. 

"How many forms of synesthesia are there?" A kid-Dallon, he thought, was his name-asked when Pete called on him.

"There are a lot of possible cross-pairings or senses and concepts, probably over one hundred. But right now, there are twenty types. Some, though, are extremely rare."

"What do you call someone with synesthesia?" Ashlee asked.

"A synesthete." 

Finally, Pete called on Joe. "What are some other emotions that you can see colors with, or whatever?"

Pete glared but smirked ever-so-slightly when Patrick leaned across the aisle and smacked Joe's arm lightly.

"Restlessness is pink, exhaustion is green... Are there any others?" Pete asked.

"Love, you forgot love!" Joe chirped, grinning ear to ear. 

Pete glanced nervously at Mikey, who was watching Pete as if he were the most fascinating thing on the planet. 

He didn't take his eyes off of Mikey when he said it. 

"Maroon," Pete coughed. He watched as Mikey's look of admiration turned into a different expression, and turned his face before he registered what it was.  "Love is maroon. Any more questions?"

Pete was thankful when a girl raised her hand. He answered her question and went back to his seat. 

When he sat back down, Joe offered him a little fistbump that he warily accepted. The teacher went back to talking about noun functions, and Pete's mind wandered back into its trance.

Broken umbrellas and jackets peppered with wet spots from the rain.  Cobblestone streets. Scuffed up sneakers. Knit beanies. Quilts. The color maroon.

Everything he found pleasing reminded him of Mikey. He hated it.

Pete stood shouldered his bag when the bell rang. He dropped off his backpack at his next class and went to the bathroom to splash himself with water. He made sure it was the one nobody used, then turned on the faucet. As he did so, the door opened, and Pete jumped.

"I thought you'd be in here," Mikey said.

Oh.

"Oh," Pete said. "Yeah. Guess so."

"Is it true? About you seeing love as maroon, and..."

"You being maroon?" Pete finished Mikey's sentence. "Yeah."

"So, you-"

"Like you? A lot? Hell, yeah."

Mikey seemed to consider his words carefully before speaking. "How would you feel if I liked you a lot too?"

"Very pleased," Pete said, looking at Mikey behind him. He didn't necessarily have to face Mikey. He could just stare at his eyes from the mirror.

"Pete."

"Yeah?"

Pete knew what was going to happen when Mikey grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. "Pete?"

"Hm?"

Pete didn't even register Mikey's lips on his until Mikey pulled away. This time, he leaned in and kissed Mikey. It was slow. Pete could see maroon and orange dancing on the inside of his eyelids. 

Pete pulled away and grinned at Mikey, "Hell. Yeah."