The world was always gray.

You were used to it - the soft blur of buildings, the smudged outlines of trees, skies that never looked blue or gold, just... light or dark. There was no pain in it. Just a quiet emptiness, like a page missing from a book you didn’t know you'd been reading.

They said color came with the bond. The right person. The right touch. A soulmate.

You stopped believing in that sometime in high school. Not out of bitterness, but practicality. Not everyone saw color in their lifetime. Most people went on just fine.

So you buried it - the wondering. And lived.

University was busy enough to distract you. Long walks across campus. Cafés with burnt coffee. Lectures that blurred together. A tight-knit circle of classmates. Everything felt manageable… routine.

It wasn’t that you noticed Lee Heeseung right away. He wasn’t loud. He didn’t chase attention. If anything, he seemed like the kind of person who existed between lines — always there, but never overwhelming. But once you saw him, really saw him, it became hard not to notice.

You were supposed to go out as a director and a producer, he - as a performer. Heeseung was known for his talent — piano, production, vocals. But even then, he never acted like someone who knew he was good. He was just... calm. Assured in the quiet way that made you feel like he already understood what most people were trying to prove.

You ended up on the same committee for the campus arts showcase. Weekly meetings, late-night rehearsals, sound checks that turned into silent moments backstage. He didn’t talk much at first. Just small nods, a few smiles.

But it was always Heeseung who stayed behind to lock up. Heeseung who walked you to your dorm when meetings ran late. Heeseung who stood beside you, not in the spotlight, but just close enough that you didn’t feel alone in the dark.

He asked questions differently - softly, as if he didn’t expect answers but would hold them carefully if you gave them.

You didn’t talk about soulbonds. Not even once.

So when your fingers brushed his by accident - reaching for the same mic cable, too tired to think - you weren’t expecting anything. You were just-

Blinded.

For one second, it was like being slammed with light. Gold. Crimson. A thousand shades you didn’t have words for. The room bloomed around you, and you blinked, heart hammering.

Heeseung froze.

He looked down at your hand, then slowly - carefully - reached out to brush his thumb over yours again. His eyes were wide. A little stunned.

Then he smiled. Not the polite kind you’d seen before. But something quieter. Softer.

“You see it too, don’t you?”

You couldn’t speak.

But you didn’t need to. He stepped closer, letting your hands stay tangled between you like an answer neither of you had to explain.