Based on a Tumblr prompt; The world is in black and white until you meet your soul mate. It's impossible to live in a world of color without them, and Arthur never cared to have one in the first place. It's too bad he found his other half, anyway. They meet at night in the trenches of World War II while on guard.
April 9, 1943
He never wanted a soul mate.
When people fell, they fell hard. He could see it in their eyes, and in the way they held themselves. It affected every part of them. They filled to the brim with liquid passion and saw the world through new eyes. Arthur watched them drop, no, destroy everything if it meant that one special person. Aspirations, family, friends, and yet nothing compared once you began to see the world in color.
As a child, Arthur believed that he didn't have one. He was stubborn and prim and how could anyone like him have a soul mate? Surely, no one could love his massive eyebrows or his short temper, but why did he care anyway? He didn't need one, didn't want one. At an early age he declared he would never, under any circumstances, let this curse get the best of him. Arthur's soul mate, as it turns out, just wasn't worth it.
A world of black and white was beautiful in it's own way, and he intended to stay in it. Colors, while he occasionally longed to see them, were too distracting. Violet, cerulean, jade - surely such bright, distracting words harbored distracting implications. He didn't want it. Arthur was never trapped by a grey-scale, he was protected by it. It swathed and bathed him in comfort, normalcy, and a sense of control.
They said you'd know when you found your other half. In poems it was said the vibrant universe would be presented at your fingertips, and in books it described a plethora of colors Arthur was unable to imagine. One message was still constant, however. When you found them, whether it be a he, she, or anything in between, it'd be startling, dazzling, and you'd know.
And, oh, did Arthur know.
It was funny, he thought, how these pigments were unleashed in such a dank place. Instead of something bright and excitable, the colors of the trench were dull and foreboding. There was a dominance of one color, something he could only describe as earthy and dirty, but the sky was familiar. Cloudy and grey and comforting. If he were to be completely honest, Arthur would say he was more concerned with his cold, damp body than the surplus of new, oddly painted information.
He'd tell you that until he saw the man's eyes, at least.
The moment he set eyes on him Arthur knew that philosophers, poets, great speakers and historical figures were all wrong. The texts he'd read claimed that when you locked eyes with your soul mate for the first time, they'd open up a new existence to you. You'd fall and spiral, violently and suddenly. While that itself may have been based in reality, it wasn't true that the universe was revealed to you through your partners eyes - it was simply that your other half was the world now. In this man's eyes he could see vibrancy, joy, excitement and a beginning. Arthur was just now, finally, after twenty three years, grasping at the edges of the universe. He never knew he'd lose himself in a beautiful American soldier.
Alfred was color itself. Everything about him was stunning. He'd smile, laugh, and Arthur's heart would jerk in an amazingly terrified way. The hand combing through his hair made his mind blank, and suddenly the chilled war zone couldn't compare to the warm body it fared against. Alfred was everything he never knew he needed - comforting, affectionate, and loud. He could tell Arthur was scared. He was okay with it. The American told him that he'd gone nineteen years wondering who Arthur would turn out to be. Then, after some time together, Alfred confided that he loved the bite of Arthur's tongue, his massive eyebrows, and the stupid blush that refused to disappear from his cheeks. He admitted he'd never known he'd find something so beautiful in a cocky, British soldier.
Alfred said he'd been told his eyes were blue. Arthur quickly decided it was the most exquisite color he'd ever seen, almost on par with the magnificent shade of Alfred's hair or the flush of his skin. Neither of these things, however, compared to the sound of Alfred's voice when he laughed.
When Alfred kissed him he truly did lose himself. He laid Arthur back with strong, gentle hands and made love to him in a dirty war trench. All the English soldier could manage was the spill of his lover's divine name from gasping lips, over, and over, and over, until his body trembled and he felt his chest would burst. It was all clear now, yet also warm, hazy, and wonderful. The world was Alfred and the world was beautiful.
They huddled together in a daze of quick breath and euphoria when it was all over. Alfred kept him warm and made sure he was alright. He made Arthur feel loved. He made Arthur love Alfred
It was still dark when they got dressed. The British man trembled, but it wasn't from the cold. Alfred made him lose control in a way he never believed he could, and it was great and terrifying all wrapped in one.
The Englishman realized he'd never felt anything like this before. He loved it, hated it, reveled in it. The American soldier was a surreal being, one he'd never dreamed of. Alfred was amazing, and he'd already begun falling for him.
These emotions towards Alfred loomed heavily, and that's why, when the universe swept back to black and white, Arthur's knees buckled and his wails echoed in the lonely trenches. Blood seeped into his shoes and melted away from the limp body. He clutched the gun desperately to his chest as if the instrument hadn't buried a bullet in Alfred's brain. It was painful, it hurt all over, it was like he himself had been shot. Everything ripped away from him just as he caught on to it. The sun, the world, the universe had abandoned him. Black and white would never coddle him as it once did.
He watched over Alfred until the sun rose.
In the morning they asked him what happened. Arthur didn't like losing control. Instead of the truth, he told his superiors that Alfred couldn't take it anymore. Alfred killed himself, he said.
Later, alone in his cot, Arthur sobbed until his eyes were bloodshot and his voice was hoarse. He never asked for a soul mate.
A/N: Consider this a rough draft. I've never written anything like this before, and I happened to write it at 3 AM on a school night, so don't judge it too harshly. I wanted to try out a different writing style and see the response it got. This idea sort of just came to me one day. I may rewrite it, but I'll wait a month and than re-read it to see if it's worth changing, keeping, or expanding on.
Important Information - By way of explanation, Arthur never wanted a soul mate. It scared him, and he didn't like the idea that someone could take such a hold of him, so when he did find his other half, he couldn't help but to trip over his own shoelaces and fall for him, so to speak. This terrified him, as he didn't think the reaction would be so strong. He felt the only option was to get rid of the thing that could cage him. It killed him, but it was for the best. The world of black and white will never be the same to him. In case you didn't catch it, Arthur shot Alfred.
This was so weird to write since there was no dialogue or anything. It was kinda just like, yes, this is what happened and it was devastating and now you know.
On another note this is also one of the shortest pieces I've ever written and that bothers me. It's about two pages long. I usually don't like the love at first sight prompts, but I figured I could make quick work of it. I hope what happened was easy to understand even if I didn't say everything out right.
This story was very quick and experimental, so I'd really appreciate it if you told me if it works or not. Disregard if it sounds a little off or quick at times, as I said it's a rough draft and it's quite early in the morning, although, I did actually work pretty hard on it. Thanks for reading~!
-K. R.