Jaspar One-Shots

Touch Of Colour

Prompt: People can't see colours till they've had some physical contact with their "true love". True love isn't the same as soulmate, because soulmate is the other half of your soul, while true love is just someone who you're set out to love, who you're entitled to love. Basically a soulmate without the soul part.
But if their soulmate rejects them, then, well, they can't see colour again.
Up to you where to go with this story.

Summary: Joe feels like a blind man. He can see, but he's unseeing to the true beauty of the world because it's all in grey. Will this change when he meets Caspar?

It's always the same. Same old grey, whether it be dark or light. Same old, same old. It gets tiring sometimes.

Joe sighs as he stares up at the colourless sky. He's always wondered what it would be like to actually see them in colour and full glory.

It's a wondrous sight to him, the sky. It's so plain, yet still the different patterns and shapes of the clouds makes it interesting to look at. Even in grey, Joe can agree that the sky is beautiful.

When he asks, people tell him that it's blue, and he tries to imagine blue, but how can he when he's never even seen it before. When he thinks of blue, he can only see a different shade of grey, like everything.

It's same with the flowers. He can only smell them, and though they smell like Heaven, Joe wants to see them. He wants to see them, differentiate them, tell which one is which. He wants to appreciate their beauty and the colours they are given. While others saw a meadow of a rainbow of colours, he saw a sea of grey.

He's always thought that this soulmate system is stupid, and it really is, and it's unfair to people like Joe.

He feels like a blind man. Of course, unlike a blind man, he can see, but at the same time, he can't really see at all. He can see the world, and all, okay, but he can't appreciate its beauty like others would be able to. He feels selfish to compare himself to a blind man, he knows any blind man would be content with what he has, but he can't help it.

He checks his watch, and deciding that it's time to go, he gets up from the bench. He brushes the fallen leaves from his lap. Taking a deep breath, he smiles as he breathes in the crisp autumn air. Smell, one of the things he's learned to appreciate over the years.

The maple leaves on his lap are pretty, and he wonders what they would look like in colour. Gold, perhaps? Red? Brown? But what would those colours look like? He wonders.

He always wonders.

Two children pass by him, their grubby hand entwined, with that spark in their eye that Joe knows. He's seen it in so many people, his parents, people he's seen on the street, and literally everywhere, but never in the mirror.

They see it. They see colour.

He feels envy coil in his stomach, and he feels stupid for being envious of two children, but he can't help it. He can't.

Frowning, he walks away and through the park, observing. Hearing, also another sense he's learned to appreciate. He loves hearing the leaves ruffle when they're blown by the breeze, or the birds chirp early in the rare bright mornings. Sometimes, when he can focus enough, he likes to observe things, to watch, smell and hear, and combine them together. It gives him a sense of colour for a brief moment. In those moments, he could almost imagine that he could see it.

But it always disappeared.

Before even realizing it, Joe reaches the part where the park pathway meets the sidewalk in the busy intersection. He looks back, longing on his face. He loathes to leave the park, but he still has an essay due, and his professor says that it is his last chance. So, with great reluctance, he leaves, and heads to the bus stop.

It's about an 8 minute walk, and though Joe loves walking, he feels particularly exhausted today, his legs feeling as if they would collapse.

There aren't too many people waiting at the stop, so he sits down on the empty bench. He sees the bus in the distance, and checks his pocket for his wallet- but it's not there. He checks again-nope. Not in his bag either. Joe groans. There was nothing of importance in it, besides some money, but he can't go on the bus without having to pay the fair. And walking home is about a 45 minute walk. Joe is already exhausted as it is.

Deciding it isn't worth it, Joe sets back to the park, shoulders slumped, mood dampened by having to go back and forth.

He's too frustrated to really care about observing, and marches past to where he'd been sitting before. The children are gone, and he feels relief wash over him, feeling a bit selfish.

There's a stranger sitting on his bench. Not seeing a wallet anywhere, he decides to ask the stranger if he'd seen one anywhere. Maybe, if luck felt like being good to him today, the stranger had picked it up and would return it to him.

Walking up to the stranger was possibly one of the most awkward things he's done in his life. "Umm, excuse me," he says.

The stranger looks up at him, and raises a perfectly groomed eyebrow expectantly. Joe gulps.

He is attractive.

"Uh, so, well, you see," he rambles. "I was here earlier, and-well, I couldn't find my wallet, and so I, umm, came back to look for it. And well, yeah uhhh-ummm..."

Damn it, Joe.

By the time he's finished, he feels his ears and cheeks burning, sure that he is red as a tomato.

The stranger is now grinning at him. Joe can't help but stare.

His blue eyes are stunning.

Joe is too preoccupied with staring that he fails to realize that he sees the blue, until it fades back into grey again.

"Actually," the stranger replies. "I did find a wallet here when I came. I took it because I had a feeling someone might steal it or something." He then begins searching through his bag, scrunching his nose up. So adorable.

Joe nods, still staring. He is tall, taller than Joe by a few inches or so, naturally intimidating. But Joe, is somehow, not intimidated at all. Something about him makes Joe feel comfortable, an unfamiliar sense of familiarity.

Before he knows what he's doing, he blurts out, "What's your name?"

He turns redder.

The stranger pauses and looks up from the bag and grins again. Joe feels like making heart eyes. "I'm Caspar."

Joe smiles and nods again. "Joe, pleased to meet you." He feels something warm settle in him. His vision blurs, and he blinks it away, confused.

Caspar hums in agreement. After a few minutes of searching, he pulls out a familiar leather wallet with a triumphant sound.

He reaches over and hands it to Joe.

Their fingers brush accidentally.

Everything stops. Joe feels a shockwave run through him, and a chill runs down his spine. He freezes. His eyes feel as if they're being clawed out and he shuts them and bites his lip, to prevent himself from crying out. He feels tears gathering at the edges of his eyes.

One moment, he feels complete and utter agony.

Then, it's all gone.

He cautiously opens one eye and then another- and he feels the breath get knocked out of him. It's beautiful, and he can say that and truly, wholeheartedly mean it now.

He can see. He can see colour.

"Can you see it," he asks breathlessly, turning to Caspar. His eyes are the colour of the sky and his hair is the colour of the sun. He knows, he sees it. That's why, from the moment he first saw Caspar, he wasn't afraid to talk to him, he feels a sense of familiarity. Because it's him.

Caspar is looking at him awkwardly, confused. He shuffles his feet and bites his lip.

Joe's heart drops.

No, it can't- it-

"What are you talking about?"

Author's Note: haha I'm evil. I actually feel kinda bad. I might make an alternate ending, maybe. Maybe.