Color. Color is something that does not exist. It's a figment of our imaginations. The people who believe in color must be blind, for all I see is black and white.

Never have I seen any of these colors people talk about. They all say that I'll soon be able to see them, too, but I can't bring myself to believe their words. I've been told, since the day I was born, that color and beauty will come to me when I meet my true love, my soul mate, the one I'm destined to be with the rest of my life. If this is true, then why do I still see through dull eyes? Am I not meant to find my other half? Am I destined to live the rest of my life in a colorless wasteland? I just do not understand, nor will I ever.

Or at least, that's what I thought.

I was nearing my twenty-sixth birthday, and I was still as alone as I thought I'd ever be. My day consisted of getting up, working in a dull hospital building, almost as lifeless as the world around me, going home to my small flat, and going to sleep just so I could do it all over again the next day. I was content. I didn't want my life to change. Everything was just fine the way it was. I'd given up on color long ago. Everyone else I knew claimed to see everything they ever dreamed of, and all it took was the touch of someone special. The problem was, I hadn't met the one person I was destined to be with forever, and I'd come to terms with the fact that I probably never would.


"Oh, Arthur! How are you? Still as dull as ever, I presume?" that dumb frog Francis who I sadly worked with shouted.

"That is none of your business! Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do. Please, feel free to not stop by," I hissed, quickly walking past the French bastard. I did not want to deal with him at the moment.

It was nine in the morning, and I had business to attend to. It wasn't anything new, just the usual checkups with patients. Our hospital rarely ever got new patients, and if we did, they were never dieing, not even close. A completely normal day at my completely normal job. Oh how I loved the normality of it all.

I walked down the halls to my office. Even though I was just a nurse, and a pretty important one at that, my job seemed harder and more stressful than most of the doctors'. I sat at my desk, rummaging through paperwork that needed to be signed, when I heard distressed noises coming from the lobby. I walking out of my office and towards the alarming sounds.

What I saw was not what I expected. Not in the slightest.

A young man who couldn't have been much younger than me had collapsed on the floor, a great amount of blood coming from his head.

"Someone get a stretcher!" another nurse in the room shouted. soon enough, the man was loaded onto the device and wheeled swiftly to the emergency room.

An hour had passed once the man was patched up, and I had been given permission to go inside. I slowly stepped through the door, making sure not to wake him. I had been told by one of the doctors that he was surprisingly conscious. I paused, looking him over. He definitely wasn't too young, possibly twenty or twenty-two, and had many bandages wrapped around his head, yet his eyes were still visible. His bomber jacket had been taken off and draped against a nearby chair, which I took a seat in hesitantly.

I decided to see if he'd wake up from his slumber, "Um...Hello?"

The injured man's eyes slowly blinked open and turned to acknowledge the other pair in the room.

"My name's Arthur Kirkland. What's yours?" I asked.

"...Alfred… F. Jones," the patient said slowly.

"Nice to meet you, Alfred," I held my hand out in front of him to shake. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine...I think," Alfred answered, his hand weakly rising to meet mine.

Our fingers touched, and I felt an odd feeling in my stomach. I was suddenly met by piercing eyes, but...they weren't gray. They were...blue? Was that what it was called? All of a sudden, the room burst into colors and shades I had never seen in my life. Did this mean-

"I found you," Alfred breathed, a weak smile adorned his face . I noticed he had golden blonde hair with a little cowlick refusing to stay down. "I've waited...for so long...and you're finally here."

My heart started to beat a mile a minute. I couldn't believe it. This man, this Alfred Jones, laying injured in the hospital I'd worked at for years, was the one. He made everything I saw colorful.

"You're…." I choked on my words. "You're….the one?"

The blonde nodded slowly, biting his lip, "Seems like it."

I felt a wetness on my cheeks. Was I crying? "I….I….," I stuttered.

I don't know what came over me, but at that moment, that very precious moment, I found myself hugging the man in the hospital bed. I clung for dear life, and let the tears run down as much as they pleased. Alfred hugged back just as much, his face buried in my neck.

"I can't believe it's really you…," I whispered.

"And I can't believe this is how I found you," the blonde whispered back.

Alfred F. Jones had brought to color into my life, and it was beautiful.