“I don’t know if I’m your soulmate,” Ignis says, keeping his voice neutral. He would’ve never even noticed if you hadn’t said anything. If you hadn’t gasped as your entire world was suddenly full of color. His remained dark.

He’s blind, having a soulmate wouldn’t change that. “Sorry,” he says, “you’re probably wasting your time.” The words leave an ache in his chest. Maybe your souls are tied, maybe you are soulmates, Ignis doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter.