Color - Plance AU

t w o

The look in his eyes must mirror mine. Suddenly I could see the warm brown tones of his skin, the darker brown of his hair, the blue and white top he was wearing. I could see the creamy tiled floor and the red lockers with their silver locks. My face burned, and I saw a blush hinting at his face as well, slightly masked by the darker colour of his skin. 

Colour. 

I couldn't breath. This...this boy was my soulmate? The person I was destined to spend eternity with? 

The moment was ruined when I felt a pair of rough hands grab my shoulders and haul me into the air. I kicked but due to my height (or lack of it) I couldn't do much. 

"Hey!" I yelled. "Put me down!" 

A mean laugh sounded and I inwardly groaned. Not him. 

"Come on, Midget! Surely you can do more than that?" Lotor cackled. 

I drove a foot back to where I roughly thought his pelvis would be and I heard my foot hit my target when Lotor groaned in pain and dropped me. I fell and landed on my knees, the rough impact bruising them. I quickly spun to see Lotor on one knee, hands protectively curled around his groin. "Don't touch me," I said simply. 

The bully snarled at me. "You bitch!" he shouted, making half the students in the hallway stop to look at the commotion we were making. 

He shakily stood up, and I realised I must have kicked him harder than I intended. I only wanted him to drop me. "Look, Lotor, you don't have to be a prick all the time. Impersonating one doesn't make yours bigger." 

I heard a few sniggers as Lotor scowled, his features curled. "I'll make you regret that." 

I rolled my eyes. "Sure you will." 

He lunged at me and I tried to side step but his hand snagged my shoulder and he pulled me onto the floor, his much bigger frame squashing me. My knees were bent underneath me, pressed up against his chest. I tried to straighten them to push him off my but my arms were trapped and I'm not the strongest so all I did was make him put more weight on me. His face was inches from mine. 

"You know," I said, breathing heavily from the pressure he was putting on my lungs, "If I had a face like yours, I'd sue my parents." 

Lotor's face contorted and he reared up, one arm pulled back as he readied himself to punch me. I turned my head to the side, but instead of a punch to the ear I felt his weight leave my stomach and heard a grunt somewhere to my right. I opened one eye to see Lotor and the boy wrestling on the floor, rolling over and over as they swung punches. A circle of students were crowded around them, some cheering Lotor and others not seeming to choose a side, just yelling 'fight! Fight! Fight!' 

It only continued for a few moments before a couple of teachers yanked the two boys away from each other. 

"What do you think you're doing?" A male teacher, remarkably young, with cropped black hair and a scar across his nose asked, a look of annoyed disappointment plastered on his face. He seemed to be more addressing the boy rather than Lotor. 

Your soulmate, a voice in my head jibed, and I beat it away with a big mental stick. 

The boy hung his head. "Sorry, Shir- uh, Mr Shirogane." 

The teacher, Mr Shirogane, let go of the boy's shoulders. "Go to the principals office. Both of you. Now." The other teacher lead the two boys away, and I was left in the corridor as the crowd dispersed, leaving me confused as to what had just happened. 

I was sat in my second period class, my laptop under my chair and my pen being bounced repeatedly on the table. It was history, and I was bored. It was about ten minutes in, and already half of the class were drifting off to sleep. 

The teacher was droning on about the Cold War, but no one was listening. I had some paper in front of me and I had scribbled a black block, marvelling at how the light caught it and made different colours in the ink. 

Colour. 

Everyone was snapped out of their various different trances when the door was flung open and an upbeat, annoying, obnoxious voice filled the room; "Sorry I'm late! It was unavoidable, I'm afraid." 

A boy stalked into the room. His jeans were tight, but slightly baggier at the bottom. His top was white with dark blue sleeves, and he wore a khaki-green jacket that was carelessly slung over his shoulders in a way that, to me, screamed 'high maintenance'. He stared down the teacher. 

"And your name is?" the teacher asked with a look of dull annoyance. 

The boy smirked. "Lance. Lance McClain. I think I'm meant to be here. This is H2, right? The history class?" 

The teacher nodded, seemingly unfazed by his dramatic entrance. "Take a seat." Lance scanned the classroom, and then his eyes stopped on me. I had been staring ever since I heard his voice, because I recognised it. It was - yep, you guessed it - the boy from this morning. But I'm not thinking about who he was. I'm not. 

He's your soulmate! that voice chimed in, making me bristle. 

Lance grinned at me, a cocky smile that made me simultaneously want to smack him and smile back. Although smacking him might be a bit extreme. Lance's eyes flickered to the empty desk next to me and my heart sunk even lower than it already was. No... I mentally begged. No! 

Lance sauntered his way over and sat down next to me. I didn't look at him. There was a furious blush on my face and if I looked at him he would see it. 

"How's your laptop?" he whispered. I jumped. He had leaned right over and his elbows were resting on my desk. I bit my lip. "It's fine. I built it to last, so..." I whispered back. 

I heard the surprise in Lance's voice. "You built it? That is so-" 

"Mr McClain, do you have something you want to share with the rest of the class?" The professors voice cut Lance off. 

Lance leaned back and leant on his own desk. "Yeah. This class is a dud. I'm so out of here." With that Lance got up and left the room. He stopped at the doorway, turned and winked at me before disappearing from view.