When Will was in his senior year of high school. He remembered his new Science teacher asking one question. Nico having asked the said question to Will so many times, that Will wasn't even sure what the answer to it was anymore.

The question read; What is your favorite color?

Thinking back to it, Will could distantly remember that he read it in Nico's voice. A smile gracing his lips as he glanced at Nico, who was seated beside him.

"What's your favorite color?" Nico asked him, scribbling a color at random down to satisfy their teacher. Will have Nico a cocky grin and a small shrug. "I'm not sure. Especially with your oh-so-artsy-criteria." Will teased lightly, making Nico let out a small snort of laughter. "Is artsy even a word?" He questioned, Will nodded mutely.

"What did you put down?" Will asked Nico after a few minutes. Nico looked a little surprised and frowned. "I couldn't pick so I wrote down rainbow."

"Well aren't you special." A voice said from behind them. Both boys jumped, Will and Nico turning swiftly to see it was their teacher. "Thank you sir." Nico answered shyly, it was obvious to Will that he wasn't sure how to respond.

Later on, Will was back at Nico's house. His white sneakers were covered in wet paint, but the rubber tips left untouched as Nico looked up at him. In his hands was a wet paintbrush, bristles smooth. "What is your favorite color. Just, like, be honest." Nico softly demanded.

Instead of the usual Panic! At The Disco music (or some other "emo band") the song Panic Room (by Au/Ra) was playing softly. Any words spoken between the two drowning out the lyrics.

Will bit his lip, unsure just what to say. He didn't even think about the generic question much. To him, all colors were the same. And the reason he researched colors, or said a certain was his favorite (then switch it up the next day) was because of Nico. Releasing his lips from his teeth, Will glanced awkwardly at Nico's walls.

Nico places the paintbrush down and stood up. His hands went to Will's shoulders, and he leaned in. Will could feel Nico's breath on his lips and chin. "It's okay f you don't know." Nico said, his voice quieter than usual.

Will looked down into his eyes and forgot how to breath. His neck became hot, and the burning sensation quickly spread to his cheeks and ears. "I personally like blue." Nico added as their chests touched.

"W-Why is that?" Will stammered.

Nico moved away and distanced themselves a good 5 feet. The Italian turned his back to Will. His eyes focused on a sketch of the blond boy. Nico let out a sigh, hands going to his black jeans.

Smearing white, red, and yellow paint on them. Staining the fabric, not that Nico cared. He reached up and found another paintbrush (one from earlier) behind his ear. Taking it out and making the space it once occupied cold.

"It doesn't have to be specific." Nico added. "You didn't answer my question." Will shot back. Shying away just a tad as Nico turned back to him.

"I like blue, because it's the color of my favorite subjects eyes." Nico stayed bluntly. Will's blush fading quickly as he had to remind himself that Nico wasn't interested in him that way.

"I like gold. Dark, mustardy gold. Still metallic, but darkened so the sparkles in it pop."

Just like the aspects that gather in your iris when you get excited.

"Or purple. A light, dusty lavender purple."

Like the way you looked when we cosplayed Galra!Keith and Lance in middle school. When you got dark purple eyeliner on your face, so we rubbed it and it turned into light purple smudges. Unevenly dusting your cheeks and rubbing up your jawline like a faint blush.

"And blue, blues always nice."

The color of sorrow. The color of our movie nights. You and me under a blanket, stuffing our faces with popcorn. One of us usually is either crying, or has dried tear stains down their face. Sometimes from the movie, sometimes from crappy reality.

"Green is also an admirable color."

The color of your lawn. The blades of grass that clumped together when your step-mother mowed the lawn. Gathering up the sides of your wood framed, leveled porch area. Clumps of it being thrown in the air as you grab the green water hose. My heart skipping a beat as I thought it was a snake.

Our laughter hitting the air as you throw a mound of it at me. Landing in my hair, and sprinkling dirt down my face, and bare chest.

"Can't forget yellow though. Different from gold. It's a bright, brighter that highlighter yellow."

The color I saw when we decided to lay in your wet backyard. Covered in grass, water, sweat, and dirt. Wheezing and gasping for air, huge smiles lighting up our faces as he look up. My hands are cushioning my head, and I'm squinting.

I could never stop looking at the sun. No matter how hard I focused on each cloud you pointed out.

"Red."

When you fell off your bike and scrapped your knee. Blood ran down your leg, you cringing as you hissed in pain. Insisting, for my emotional state, that you were fine and it didn't hurt.

But even so, I panicked and ran to get the first aid kit. White bandages stained red as I pressed it against the wound. Talking to you as calmly as I could, getting flustered when you state (out of the blue) that I'd be a good doctor.

"That's a lot of colors." Nico said when Will quiet down. "I don't think I really have an all time favorite though." Will informed Nico, lying.

Instead, Will's actual answer popped into his head. But he couldn't dare say it aloud.

You. You are my favorite color.