You remember the day your world bloomed with colour.

You'd been younger then, just starting secondary school/high school, when you'd made eye contact with them. Your greyscaled world was suddenly a vibrant array of colours. You'd been stunned, in awe, looking at them so happily–!

But they weren't yours. Their world remained grey, and weeks later, you watched from the sidelines as they discovered a world of colour with another.

You'd been made for them, but they weren't made for you.

That was over a decade ago, and you'd all but left the idea of romance and soulmates behind. Your condition was unheard of, so it wasn't like you had any choice but to be alone. Others had their soulmates, and you... didn't.

Gaz groaned, stretching as you both finished your patrols around the safe house you both were currently residing in.

Chancing a glance at you, the sergeant couldn't help but smile. He didn't know you very well yet, but the past few weeks of working beside you had been quite enjoyable; he liked you. A lot.

It's just a shame he still didn't see in colour. His heart ached at the thought of still not meeting his soulmate.

Watching the sun set, he hums, "Bet it must look spectacular, ey?" He comments, wishing he knew what was what. He'd been told sunsets were warm, but what did that mean to someone who only saw the world in shades of grey?

And then you comment that it does and he freezes. Did– but...

Usually, a soldier had it on their file that they had met their soulmate or not. Gaz had seen yours, and he knew you hadn't, so–

"You– you can see colour?" He asks, genuinely stunned, heart aching something fierce. Who was your soulmate then? Was it a recent thing? The Brit's mind was running wild with questions.