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Max pulled on their coat, pulling their avocado colored cap down to cover their face, and their bothersome, bright indigo eyes. The eyes they hadn't had yesterday, but had now.
Max opened the door to the front yard, looking back at their house one last time. Their mom and dad were gone on some businesses like always, and Max was alone. Always alone.
Max pulled out their phone, rubbing their fingers over its glossy cover, and turned it over, the screen flickering to light. They tapped on their messages; only one from weeks ago.
I'm done, it shouted from the screen.
Max held it up to their chest, saving the sting of the words, saving the low drum that had started in their ears from that message and never really left them.
Max took a deep breath.
It was just one last visit, one last time, before they left, and they could leave this town and figure out what had happened to them, what changed their eyes, and made their hand heat up.
Max shut the door behind them, their hand hovering over the knob for a split second. They took one step, one step to the unknown, and they were out of the front yard.
More steps, past the women calling for drug money at the corner from where Max's street split off towards the market, past Mr,
and Mrs Norris's at the grocery store that always said hello from the window facing the market.
And finally, to the last stop, before they were gone.
Max knew these steps well, know each individual crack in the white stone steps, knew the feel of them digging into their shoes, knew the white walls stretching up above them,
knew what it was like to be thrown against them on accident, knew the plain wooden door, and knew what it was like to be softly kissed on the check before the door was opened.
Max knocked. It didn't feel like before, that rush and excitement to be greeted with a tackle and a kiss. This time, the reverberations from the door felt like needles against Max's skin.
It felt cold and lonely.
The door swung open, and Max dug their hands into their coat. "Max?" said a soft voice, titled, strained, full of fake excitement.
Max looked up, the distance between them hitting Max like an ax.
Bright golden eyes stared at them, and Max was almost lost in those eyes, in the smile that sprang from her lips, and colored her cheeks.
"Indigo?" Max whispered, digging their hand further into their pocket, to stop the urge to stroke her cheek.
Indigo shifted, golden eyes flickering, pink shirt fluttering in the wind, belly exposed, and black pants sagging, held on only by a brown belt. Their golden hair flickered in the wind.
"You want to come in?"
Max nodded, looking into Indigo's bright, bright golden eyes.
Indigo lead Max to her room, a room so full of color Max never could get used to. A single, white clothed bed in the center of the room was the only thing not splashed with color.
The walls were a mixture of every color imaginable, and a long white dresser by the table was splattered by paint. Various paintings by Indigo hung up on the walls.
Max sat at the chair by the dresser, looking around slowly at the pictures. They could never get over how beautiful they were, each done with a perfection words couldn't describe.
Indigo settled onto the bed, laying across, just like normal. Max glanced at the dresser, to see what Indigo had been working on, like they always did.
A small, canvas half way done, showed a picture of Max, eyes glinting and smiling.
Max leaned closer, heart beating fast. Did Indigo still have feelings? She couldn't, not when Max was about to-
"What did you come here for?"
Max tore their glance away from the picture, heart beating fast. "I'm leaving." Max stared at the ground, shifting their feet, heart still rapid from their discovery.