This is the story of Stephen who can see peoples emotional state as a colour. It's a very slow burn in the first chapter or two while I set up the premise. But stay with me because things will move quickly very soon. All character that have a sexual encounter are over 18 years of age.
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Ch 1.
I can remember the day I discovered my gift. It's funny really, I did not miraculously wake up one day and discover I could do things that other people couldn't. Rather it was the day I became aware that other people could not do the things I could do. It was a long time ago now.
For as long as I can remember I could see other people's thoughts and feelings. It's not like I can see a video footage, hear dialogue, for see text or anything a visceral as that. I see colours. When people are angry, sad, in discomfort, or hungry I see a colour. It's like seeing someone's facial expression you just know they are angry, right. There is just some level of body language people can't hide. Well, my colours are just like that, only on steroids.
My name is Stephen, I have a sister Jenifer who is five years younger than me. I had a pretty ordinary suburban upbringing. Dad worked, mom stayed at home. Jenifer and I always got along despite our age difference. From the time she was born we always had a closeness. I always knew when she needed changing, was hungry, or sick, and I always knew what she needed, even before mom did. To me it was obvious, when she was crying, I could see her colours, and tell what she needed. I didn't immediately get it, I guess it's a lot like learning to talk. I could see the colours, then mom would do something, change her, feed her, or just hold her and sometimes the colours would change. Over time I learned that certain colours needed specific remedies. Mom would be dancing around trying to calm Jen down, I would take one look and say "Mom, Jen is hungry, are you blind or something!" Well I turns out she was, and not only that, it seems pretty much everyone else is too. Everyone is colour blind except for me. Well as least that's what I call it. Colour blind. Not the visual colour like a red or green traffic light, but colour blind nonetheless.
Mom would turn to me whenever she needed help with Jen, and Jen basically got conditioned to know that when I showed up, whatever the problem, it would be resolved. Kids are smart like that. That probably accounts for why Jen and I are so close. Mom would brag to her friends that I was some sort of baby whisperer. I hated that attention, and it didn't earn me any new friends either. It's terrible seeing that cold colour of hatred whenever you walked into a room. For the most part the other kids weren't overtly mean to me. One or two were bullies, but I guess most kids would put up with a bully or two in their lifetime. It was like I was stealing the other kid's mom and they really hated that. I learned pretty quickly to keep my thoughts to myself, get things wrong more often than not, and after a while things reverted back to normal. Mom just put it down to that certain connection some siblings have, and that was fine with me.
Here is the thing though; I can't see my own colours. So apart from the everyday things that happen, my colour vocabulary was pretty limited. Sure I can see the colour, but without a stimulus which makes the colour more intense, or fades the colour, I don't know what it means. It's like watching the news in foreign language without any graphics. Without context no matter how long you listen to it, you will never understand.
As I grew up, I added a few new items to my vocabulary. As a teen in college it's handy to know who likes you and who doesn't. Something not always obvious to other people.
The day my journey really started though was when I was spending time with my one best friend, Peter. I've known him since we were kids and he is one of the good guys. He's big, but pretty uncoordinated, so never made it to any of the sports teams at school. On this particular day were headed down to the mall to get a new shirt for him, and some shoes for me. We had a party that night, and we really wanted to look our best. You never know what might happen. Although we were both virgins, we were still hopeful.