every page matters (chaelisa)

Prism

TW// Includes mention of blood, alcohol, substance use, and violence. And mild depiction of anxiety and depression. Do not read if any of the said matters and circumstances make you uncomfortable.

~

Soulmate AU, where you see the world in black-and-white until you meet your soulmate. Roseanne Park meets two people at once, and at the moment she first sees in color, makes the wrong choice and falls in love with the right one, anyway.

~

Roseanne sees color for the first time when she's in her mid-twenties, at some dingy bar that Wendy has dragged her to. "I'm not going to see my ex alone," she'd informed Roseanne. "And I know she's going to bring her roommate for moral support. Congrats, you're mine."

Roseanne glares at her and concedes, as she always does when Wendy makes demands of her. And so they're meeting up with the ex for a friendly night to catch up now that Wendy's back in town, and Wendy says, "There she is."

Roseanne turns and catches sight of them—a black-haired woman not much older than her and another brunette beside her with her eyes fixed on Roseanne—and her world explodes into color.

She can't name the colors yet—she'll have to google a chart, which is something she'd never thought she'd do after Joy and throwing out the chart in her childhood bedroom—but she knows that this is what she's seeing, bright and vibrant and everywhere. There's a jacket so stunningly colored on the roommate's shoulders that Roseanne gapes in awe, unwilling to tear her eyes away.

And when she finally does, it's to gaze at Wendy's ex in wonder. "Irene," Wendy says, but she's gazing right back at Roseanne, a smile on her face. Irene sighs. "This is Roseanne."

And it isn't polite to talk about soulmates or acknowledge that they exist, even to your soulmate, so Roseanne offers Irene a secret smile and says not a thing. Irene says, "Ah, you know Lisa."

Roseanne blinks over at the roommate again, struggling to find her face and not the color on her jacket. (Or the curves beneath them, for that matter—she has a soulmate now. No more gaping at women in bars.) Lisa is staring at her in disbelief, and Roseanne glares at her, affronted by her rudeness.

She turns her eyes back to Irene. "It's a pleasure to meet you," she says. "Less so your friend."

Lisa mumbles "Bitch," and backs away from them, her eyes still wide and disbelieving as she fades into a corner. Roseanne can't say she's sorry that she's gone.

~

Irene asks Roseanne out at the end of the night and Wendy rolls her eyes but gives them her blessing. And it's perfect. As soulmates should be. Irene is easygoing and nice enough, a good person Hans doesn't hate, and Roseanne's...

Roseanne's world has been in black-and-white for so long that now all she can see is color. She'd thought once that she'd never know her soulmate, that she'd be someone her mother had already destroyed—or that she would, someday. Soulmates are for the privileged few who can still afford to believe in a greater romance.

Scientists say that there's no truth to the phenomenon, that it's only a myth and as false as magic. They talk about pheromone levels directly linked to photoreceptors, that it's only infatuation and nothing more that wakes color vision. Roseanne had chosen to believe that right up until the day she'd spotted Irene with Lisa across a crowded bar.

And really, the only less-than-perfect thing about Irene is Lisa, who seems to be underfoot all the time. Foster siblings, Irene explains once. There's a story there that they haven't told, because she seems perpetually guilty when she mentions Lisa and she's more sulky than affectionate.