Earth 78
Everyone was born seeing only in black and white. At some point in their lives, they would see everything in color. This could fade back into grey over the course of years, or could suddenly snap back, or even flicker. There were a wide array of theories as to exactly why this might be. Myth stated that when one first saw their soulmate, they would see in color. If they were separated from their soulmate, the colors would fade. If their soulmate died, or came close to death, the colors would disappear or flicker, respectively. Scientists generally attribute this phenomenon to the hormones levels of dopamine, oxytocin, and serotonin, which can be present in higher levels when a person is in love. Most people simply accepted their lives of black, white, and grey. Seeing in color was a matter of chance – or perhaps it was all a hoax.
Oliver Queen spent his days in the latter frame of mind, even before the island forced him into cynicism. Perhaps it really started first time he met Laurel. They were only seven years old, on the playground at the park…
"Go higher Ollie!" Tommy egged him on, stretching his own legs far out as he swung upwards. The swing's chains shuddered as he made the decent.
Oliver grunted in reply, throwing all of his effort into pushing himself as high as he could go. Any higher, he thought, and he'd loop all the way around the top. "Ready?" he yelled.
"Set, go!" Tommy returned. They both launched themselves into the sky, arms and legs flying. Oliver soared for all of two seconds before crashing to the ground, landing on all fours in the soggy grass. From the "oomph" to his left, he knew that Tommy hadn't landed too well either.
Before he had time to so much as sit up, he heard an unfamiliar voice in front of him. "Daddy says jumping from the swing is dangerous," the voice said primly, with a small sniff at the end.
He looked up to see a small girl, maybe old enough to be in his grade. Her straight hair hung in two uneven braids, and her mouth was forming a disapproving line. Oliver stood, brushing the dirt and grass off his hands.
"Maybe, but it's awfully fun," he replied, flashing her a grin.
Laurel blinked at him with wonder. "Your eyes are blue," she said, under her breath.
Oliver frowned. "What?" She wasn't making sense; no one this young saw colors. He shook his head, brushing it off. "My name is Oliver, what's yours?"
"Dinah Laurel Lance," she recited. "But everyone calls me Laurel."
"How old are you?" Like most children, Oliver held the firm belief that age was nearly as important as names.
"Seven. Just turned. I had a birthday party."
"Cool," he said appreciatively, then with an air of importance, "I'm seven and a quarter." He barely noticed his best friend shuffling in from behind, pushing himself between them.
"Hi, m'name's Tommy," he inserted breathlessly, sticking his hand out toward Laurel.
"Hi. You're muddy," Laurel informed him, aloofness returning. She was right, though; Tommy must've landed in a particularly bad spot. Tommy looked down and attempted to brush the mud off the bottom of his light shirt, which only spread the mud further. He gave up with a shrug.
Oliver stared at him, tilting his head.
"What?"
"We have three people now," Oliver said, pointing to each of them.
"Wha- Oh! Enough for freeze tag!" Tommy exclaimed excitedly.
Oliver grinned, nodding. He loved running. "You game?" he asked their new friend.
"I guess so…" she began hesitantly, then a mischievous smile crossed her face. "Nose goes!" she said quickly, putting a finger on her own. Oliver quickly followed, and Tommy groaned. He started count, and Oliver and Laurel ran.
They spent the rest of the afternoon playing, until Laurel's dad and Raisa called them to leave. That day was the start of a friendship that lasted their childhoods. Then they started dating. And Oliver loved her, he really did. But not like Laurel loved him. He knew that, with a small nagging in the back of his mind, but he pushed it down. His world was still grey. The whole soulmate idea just seemed like a lot of crap at the time. Wasn't everyone just fooling themselves? No one could actually see life in vivid color. Everyone just pretended. So that is what Oliver did.
It was a lazy summer day, with the kind of humid heat that even swimming and ice cream cones couldn't fix. Laurel and Oliver were lounged on the couch of her apartment, her head in his lap. The mid afternoon sun flitted in through the cracked window blinds, casting a nasty glare on the TV screen that neither of them were watching. Oliver could barely hear the soft voices and music of the romantic comedy that Laurel had chosen, but that didn't matter. He slipped his fingers through her soft hair and breathed deeply.
Laurel hummed softly, then shifted to look up at him. "It was that day on the playground, you know. That I knew."
Oliver frowned slightly, collecting his thoughts. "What?"
She gave a little laugh, tapping the back of the hand to his chest. "About us. That we were meant to be. Denied it for forever, but I still knew."
Oliver quickly tried to come up with what he was supposed to say to that – that he knew too (at seven years old?!)? That they were destined for each other? Like, forever? Happily ever after?
"That's the day I saw life in color," Laurel continued. "From the moment I saw you." She looked at him again, waiting for a response. He smiled to buy time. He knew she couldn't stand his smile.
She blushed, smiling and looking away, but still prompted, "What about you? When did you see the colors?"
"Um, same time, actually. When I stood up to see who was scolding me," he improvised, hoping the humor and reminiscence would distract her from was she was trying to get at.
It worked. "Well, you did always provide me with plenty of opportunities to do so," she teased. "Daddy did always say you were going to be the death of me." She sat up and turned toward him, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Maybe he was right," she added suggestively.
And that was the end of that, at least for a little while. Oliver pretended everything was all right, but in the recesses of his mind he knew that this was a facade. It wasn't real. Although he didn't know it, because he was happy and he was in love, he craved what was real.