word count: 10k
summary: everyone in the world has a soulmate. someone destined to be with you. your other half. meeting that person is the only way to regain your ability to see colors, but what if you never wanted to? what if regaining that ability would mean giving up your entire life?
tags: soulmateau!wriothesley, fem!reader, nsfw, smut, angst, fluff, one character who is manipulative, other genshin characters mentioned
notes: hello everyone! I did it. I finally finished one of the soulmates fics that I mentioned forever ago. this one ended up being way longer than I meant for it to be (which I know I say a lot, but 10k words was... a lot). I truly hope you give this fic a chance, and lemme know what you think of it! likes and reblogs are always welcome and appreciated!
Summer:
When you’re born, the world is bright and full of color. You experience everything with childlike wonder, and a sense of magic. Then, as you grow older, you learn that that magic is a lie. At the age of 16, everyone in the world loses their ability to see color. The world washed into shades of grey. From then on, the only time you can see color is when you meet and maintain physical contact with your soulmate for five seconds. After that, the color comes back. Everyone in the world has one, a soulmate, but it’s just a matter of finding them. Something you’ve always considered to be for the very rich or stupidly lucky. After all, here you were, well past 16 and your world was always just grey.
In the end, finding a soulmate didn’t matter to you. When you were younger, you’d been well into art. A hobby your parents had cultivated for you. A hobby that had turned into a profession. To you, a world of shades of grey was necessary. Seeing those subtle differences in the shades was exactly how you were able to make pieces of art that were admired by the rich. They often commented on how unique and impressive your skill to balance and mix colors were. Colors you couldn’t see or tell the difference between, but if the artwork sold, that was really all that mattered to you. So long as your clients were happy.
That was how you found yourself here, in this art gallery, watching those of high society admire your work. Their arms linked with their other halves as they “oohed” and “ahhed” at your latest piece. It was getting late by now, the auction already ended, and the artwork sold to their new respective owners. Shadows creeping over the bland and monotone walls and floors of the gallery. Mixing into an almost blinding blob of singular colors. Everything should be starting to wind down, just the usual chit chat to end off the night. Oh, how the rich loved to talk and brag to each other. A song and dance you always did your best to avoid.
Thus, you found yourself staying away. Leaning back against the back wall, a flute of untouched champagne in your hand. Your gallery clothes clung to you in all the right ways, the skintight dress accentuating the curves of your figure. You were told it was a deep indigo blue in color, but to you, it was just a rather dark shade of almost black. Supposedly, it was a color that really suited you. Compared to the elegant dresses of the rich, you felt almost plain. A weed in this garden of flowers. You knew they were all different colors from the shades that shimmered in their clothes, but what colors they were, you couldn’t tell.
“Not enjoying yourself?”
The voice was unfamiliar, gruff, and low. You looked over and were caught off guard by the man who had approached you. Standing close to you, he’s pulled you from your thoughts, having snuck up on you. He definitely didn’t look like the usual stuffy type of high society people who came to these gallery viewings and auctions. His hair was fluffy but styled messily, dark in color from the different shades you could pick up in it. His eyes must have been such a light color, because to you they were a clear white, like a crystal. The spotlights in the gallery making them almost shimmer. He had a scar under his eye, and a few on his neck peeking out from under his collar. Had he not been dressed so sharply he would have come off as intimidating. As it was, he looked far more out of place than you felt, fitted neatly in that tux he wore.
You must have been staring a little longer than you should have been because he raised a brow and titled his head towards your untouched drink.
“Champagne is usually best served chilled, is it not?”
Breaking your trance, your eyes momentarily flickered to your drink before returning to the man on your left. “If you have to drink to enjoy something like this, perhaps you’re not really here to admire the art?” you countered.
A small smile merely curled up on the man’s lips and he leaned his shoulder into the wall just next to you, clearly amused by your answer. He crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes on you. You did your best to ignore him while still trying to be polite, eyes traveling over to him despite yourself when he spoke again.
“That’s fair,” he agreed, not once taking his eyes off your face. Whether he was being a gentleman about where his eyes were or he’d already looked you all the way over before approaching, you weren’t sure. “Those who would overindulge would ruin the mood of the night, after all. Still, it’s almost a shame to see such an expensive drink go to waste. Though, I prefer something far milder myself.”
“I can’t say that I’m particularly fond of champagne,” you admitted with a small shrug. “It’s more of an acquired taste I never seemed to have acquired. Though, it does keep the waiters away if I still have a full glass in my hand.”
The man chuckled, a deep chuckle that made his whole torso shake. “My name is Wriothesley, and you are?” he asked, extending a hand to you.
You immediately shied away from the potential contact, pulling back to make sure he didn’t touch you accidentally. A reaction that sparked confusion to cross his face but was hidden away just as quickly. He regarded you with a careful curiosity now. A look that stirred something inside your chest that you quickly disregarded.
Before you could respond to Wriothesley, someone called your name from across the room. A brief glance over reveled it to be your gallery agent, Leo, waving you over to meet some new potential clients, most likely. “Excuse me,” you said politely to Wriothesley. “It would seem I’m being called away.”
As you pushed off the wall to head over to your agent, you couldn’t help but notice the fleeting look of disappointment that crossed Wriothesley’s face. It lasted only a second before it was replaced with recognition. He must have figured out who you were from your name being called. A soft laugh escaped your lips as you kept walking. He seemed like he would have made good company tonight. A shame you couldn’t get to know him a little more.
While your attention was on the man whose side you had just left, you didn’t notice the dark look that your agent had fixed him with.
Autumn:
“The leaves are beautiful this time of year, you should pain- Ah… sorry.”
A ghost of a smile crossed your lips as you shook your head. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I can tell the shades of the leaves are very pretty,” you assured your friend, Navia.
A small little café on the corner was the setting of your current gathering. A small metal table outside for four, the aromatic smell of coffee and bakery goodies wafting through the air from the open café door. Autumn was in full swing with the turning leaves and the crisp breeze. Perfect weather in your opinion. The sun shone down from what you assumed was a bright blue sky. With the lack of the usual puffy imprints of white, there wasn’t a cloud to be seen. It was a beautiful day, even in shades of grey.
Sitting around the table with you are three of your “friends”. Truthfully, it was one friend and two acquaintances that you’d come to… tolerate. They were Navia’s friends. Snobby high-class woman whom she claimed weren’t as awful as you personally found them. It wouldn’t be as bad if not for the fact that they always regarded you as an outcast that they graciously let into their social circle.
“It must be so hard being your age and still not having found your soulmate,” came that nasally voice that you’d grown to hate so much. Especially when it was oozing with that fake pity that she loved to sprinkle in when she spoke to you. It made your eye twitch.
The one who’d spoken, Alcina, had grown up with her soulmate. A boy who lived in the next mansion over, and they’d found each other basically the second they both turned sixteen. She often told her horror story of the harsh five days she’d had to live without seeing color. The horrors of being rich and lucky.
“Oh, come now. If she found her soulmate what would become of her art?”
The other woman, named Melyssa, with a ‘y’, spoke up next. Neither of them noticed Navia giving you an apologetic look as the conversation turned to a subject you always did your best to avoid. Melyssa was another one who had to deal with being in a world without color for only two years. Since meeting her, you’d heard her “true love” tale at every party. She loved to show off her soulmate and gush about how they’d met.
You shook your head at Navia, a signal to just let the other two talk. It would just cause you more problems if she tried to change the subject or steer the conversation. Sometimes your best friend had a knack for turning a simple conversation into an investigation that usually turned around back to the topic she’d been trying to get away from. It was a quirk of hers that you loved about her but could end up causing more trouble than just letting the girls gossip.
While you did your best to feint interest in their conversation, your hands around a warm cup of lychee black tea you sipped quietly, your eyes wandered. The little café was busy this time of the afternoon. It was known for having the best coffee in town, so that wasn’t much of a surprise. You gave a small sweeping glance at the patrons sitting and enjoying their drinks and treats. Some had their heads buried in their laptops, others talking quietly on their cell phones or to those who sat with them. You couldn’t help but wonder how many of them could see the colors of the leaves, or the sky, or even the shirt they wore.
It was the sight at a corner table that really drew your attention, however. Your eyes widened a fraction in surprise as you recognized the man sitting there. Wriothesley, from the gallery auction a few months ago. He was sitting there with a laptop in front of him, and a cup of steaming liquid to his right.
“Excuse me for a second,” you blurted out as you stood up from your seat. Your eyes never leaving the man in the corner. You didn’t care that you’d interrupted Alcina, nor did you give a second thought to the looks that they all gave you as you walked into the café. Too focused on following through with your whim of an idea as you approached his table without a single stutter of hesitance in your steps.
You questioned yourself the second you did it. There was no reason why this man would want to see you again. Why he’d even want to talk to you again. You hadn’t seen him since that night, and you’d been less than engaging in the five second conversation you’d had that night. He’d never bothered looking you up after the fact. That should have been a clear indication that he wasn’t that interested, and yet, here you were. Standing in front of his table.
“Well, if it isn’t the Princess of the gallery.”
Before you even had a chance to say hello, his crystal-like eyes moved up from his laptop to meet yours, and you were shocked to hear that almost sarcastic bitter tone that left his mouth. Had you offended him that night? You’d been being coy, sure, and had left rather abruptly, but you hadn’t thought you’d done anything to warrant that reaction from him. The words you were about to say died on your tongue as you stood there and stared, but he continued.
“So did you actually need something, Princess? I already got your message. Loud and clear.”
By this point you were confused and more than a little annoyed at his attitude. You hadn’t done anything to him to deserve this. Your hands clenched into fists at you side as you continued to stare at him. He didn’t have the right to treat you like that when he didn’t even know you. “What message? I have no idea what the hell you’re even talking about,” you said narrowing your eyes at him. Your voice betraying the anger that was starting to boil in your stomach. “I haven’t seen or spoken to you since the auction that night, and frankly I don’t appreciate the tone. I just wanted to come say hello, and maybe have an actual uninterrupted conversation, but sorry for clearly bothering you.”
You spun on your heel, intending to walk back over to your “friends”, but stopped as another thought crossed your mind. You turned back to Wriothesley. “And one other thing, you don’t know anything about me. I’m not some shallow bitch who thinks she’s better than everyone else, and from where I’m standing, you’re the only one here being an asshole.” You were proud of yourself for not raising your voice at all. Managing to keep the conversation just between the two of you.
It was the look of shock and surprise that kept you standing there. He was quick to recover but he sounded equally confused when he did speak again. “Wait. So, you didn’t…” he trailed off and pulled his phone from his pocket. “Hang on,” he said sounding more apologetic by the second. Eventually he flipped the screen of his phone around to show you. On his screen was a picture of you and your agent from one of the news articles that had been written on the gallery. “Who is this guy?” he asked you, pointing to the man next to you in the picture.
“Leo? He’s my art agent. Why?” you asked, feeling even more conflicted. You could tell something had to have happened, and it was purely your curiosity, you told yourself, that was the reason you hadn’t just walked away yet. That was all it was, just pure curiosity to get to the bottom of this.
You couldn’t read the look on Wriothesley’s face. “Just her agent, huh…” he muttered almost too quietly for you to hear as he took his phone back, slipping it into his pocket. He took a deep breath and sighed before looking back up at you, and you were definitely not admiring him in the slightest. The dark colored, maybe black, wraps on his arms that barely hid other scars. The, also most likely black, t-shirt he was wearing that was skintight and showed off every toned muscle of his chest and abs, especially when he moved. You quickly returned your eyes to his face and were surprised to see a much softer expression there.
“I owe you an apology,” he started. “When your agent kicked me out, he was quite articulate with his word choice. And I’m guessing, from the look on your face, that he never told you that I had stopped by a few days after the auction. I do apologize for assuming that what he had told me had come straight from you, and for my attitude today.” He paused for a moment, and then he spoke up again. “Can I invite you to join me?”
You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t the sheepish apology and explanation that you just received. He truly did look and sound genuine, adding an offer to the end for you to sit. A double meaning you assumed for his reassurance that you might be willing to forgive him for his actions. You hesitated for a moment, before you pulled out the chair and sat down at the table with him. That earned you a small smile to curl his lips as he closed the lid of his laptop. You on the other hand were still trying to figure out why Leo would have shooed him away.
Leo had been working with you since before your first piece had sold. He always seemed to have your best interests at heart. He steered you towards good clients, kept you away from bad ones, and didn’t let anyone take advantage of you. He was always protecting you… wasn’t he? It was true though that he was the biggest advocate for you to stay in your world of grey. Always making subtle hints and comments about how bad for your career it would be if you could see color. You’d never once questioned that, just accepted it as a fact. You just couldn’t picture Leo chasing someone away for no reason. It had to be a misunderstanding then. You’d talk to him later and clear it up.
You’d been so focused on your thoughts, and you finally realized you’d been silent. “Sorry, I just have a hard time picturing Leo like that,” you admitted quietly. “I’ll talk to him. Figure out what that was about. I’m sorry for his behavior.” You looked down at your hands, folded neatly in your lap. When you looked back up, you could tell that there was something on Wriothesley’s mind, but he didn’t say anything else about Leo.
“How about we start over,” he offered you. “Only if you’ll forgive me, of course.” He picked up his cup next to him and took a sip of the steaming liquid. The scent of the drink reached you, and you realized that he was drinking tea. He was trying to break the tension between you two, and you appreciated it.
Really, you weren’t sure what it was about him that drew you in so much. The mixture of his intimidation factor along with those moments of softness you caught from him? Or perhaps it had more to do with how almost mysterious he seemed to you. Not exactly fitting into the high-class society you’d been swept up into. Maybe he was more like you in that regard?
“So, tea is your milder preference?” you ventured. “I’ll think about forgiving you, but only after you tell me what kind of tea you’re drinking.” A small smile on your face as you sat a little more comfortably in the chair. You were hoping he would remember what he’d said that night at the auction. You could remember every word of your conversation that night, and you weren’t even sure why it stuck out to you so much.
“Much better than champagne,” he agreed with you with a soft chuckle. He hummed softly as if he was considering the offer you’d made about forgiving him. Then after a moment you hear his answer. “Assam Black Tea. With light milk and no sugar.” He watched you for a moment, and you found yourself a little lost in how light and reflective his eyes were, despite the lack of color in your world. “Do I pass?” he asked you, breaking you out of your thoughts.
“I suppose I can forgive you, yes.”
“How gracious of you.”
Both of you laughed at that and you felt a weird fluttering in your chest. You found yourself admiring the man in front of you. Enjoying the sound of his laugh, and the way he was looking at you. You barely knew Wriothesley, but this interaction was so refreshing and different than anytime you’d spent with anyone else; you couldn’t help but be enjoying yourself. Regardless of the rocky start.
“What made you go to the auction that night?” you blurted out. It had been bothering you for a while. You’d never seen him at gallery viewings or auctions before. Never run into him or caught a glimpse of him at the fancy parties that the rich liked to throw to show off. “I’ve never seen you at any events before, and forgive me for saying this, but you strike me as someone like me.”
He had a thoughtful expression on his face as he raised a brow at your last comment. “Someone like you?” he asked.
“An impostor,” you answered honestly.
“An impostor?” he parroted, though with a hint of surprise in his tone.
You scowled at him and crossed your arms. “Are you just going to repeat everything I say as a question?” you asked with a little bit of a pout. Though, that soon melted away into a smile as you saw the mirth that danced in his eyes, the way his chest rumbled with his chuckle. He was teasing you, clearly.
“Sorry, I’m just surprised to hear that you think of yourself as such,” he said with a gentler tone. “To me, it seems more like everyone else is the imposters. Always parading around with fake smiles and fake perfect lives, never sure what their true reality is. You seem more down to earth than them.”
“Isn’t that just people in general?” you countered, tilting your head to the side a little. His view on people was different than you expected. It made you curious. What had happened to tilt his view on people like that? Questions burned on the tip of your tongue, but you held back. That seemed a little bit too personal of a question for a second meeting.
“In my experience, it’s often those who are the unfortunate and unlucky that are more willing to be truthful,” he mused quietly. There was a look on his face that you couldn’t read. A look that told you that maybe it would be better to change the subject. Or at least get the conversation back on track with your original question.
Taking a quiet breath, you let your arms relax again, falling into your lap. “So, you didn’t answer my question though,” you pointed out. “What made you go to the auction that night?” You couldn’t help but be curious about Wriothesley. You wanted to know more about him besides his tea drinking preferences. Who was he? Why were you so interested in him? What drew you in so much when you’ve never cared about interactions like this before?
“A whim,” he answered, taking another sip of tea. “I was invited by a friend, and while I usually would turn him down, I decided for once to go. On a whim.” He set down his teacup, leaning back in his seat. “I’m glad I did go,” he added with a small smile. His gaze was on you, his expression soft, and it left that strange stirring in your chest once more as you looked back into his eyes.
“A whim,” you mused quietly. You met by chance solely because he decided to do something out of his normal behavior. It shouldn’t have caused the reaction with you that it did. It wasn’t like you hadn’t met plenty of people that way. Not that you were a big believer in fate, but you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe meeting him before, and again now, after having never run into each other once before, might have been something at play. For just a fleeting second, you wondered what would happen if you touched him. That thought was quickly cast aside and buried.
“Now who’s repeating things,” he pointed out with a little smirk on his lips.
You felt your cheeks heating up as you looked away from him. “Shut up,” you muttered quickly. He laughed quietly, and you looked back over from the corner of your eyes. There was a momentary silence, and you wondered if maybe you should take this opportunity to ask more about him. After all, he clearly knew enough about you already.
Before you could even open your mouth to ask though, you heard your name being called. Your attention quickly turned to Navia who was watching you. The three girls you’d left at the table standing and getting ready to leave. Navia gave you a curious look that was far more dangerous than if it had come from anyone else, and you mouthed the words “Two seconds,” to her. She smirked deviously, and you knew you’d regret that later.
“Need to go?” Wriothesley asked, and you didn’t miss the hint of disappointment in his tone.
“Yes, my friend and I have a shopping date,” you explained with a sigh, returning your attention to him. Not exactly your favorite activity, but Navia was doing it for you. If someone were to let you decide on your clothing, there was no guarantee anything would match. You felt like a dress-up doll some days, but it was worth it to not stand out. Although, you could just order the clothing online, but she refused to let you do that. She claimed it was too much of a hassle to try it on, send it back, and repeat. Honestly, you had to agree it was easier to try it on in the stores. “She helps me pick out clothes,” you add to his curious look.
You expected him to tease you again but were surprised when he held his phone out to you instead. His contact information was displayed on the screen. “I hope it’s not too forward of me, but I was hoping maybe we could talk again sometime?” he asked you.
A small smile curled your lips, and you nodded your head, producing your own phone from your pocket. “I would… like that,” you said, typing his number into your contacts list. You sent a little text message next, just the word “hi :)” with a smiley face. “I look forward to talking more,” you added, looking back up at him.
“Me too,” he agreed.
Winter:
It was almost scary to admit it to yourself, but over the course of the next few months you’d found yourself falling hopelessly and helplessly in love with the handsome stranger from the auction. He was funny and sweet now that you’d had the chance to get to know him. A member of the police force, which explained the scars. Still a little mysterious about his past, but he was very upfront with you about what he was comfortable talking about, and what was off limits. Which you were completely fine with.
Not to mention everything that had happened with Leo. Your manager swore it was a misunderstanding, and while Wriothesley was a bit annoyed about the whole thing, he didn’t pursue it. You decided to keep a better eye on Leo in the meantime but found yourself all too distracted lately. After all, you were more worried about not messing this up. You finally had a life outside of work. You were having fun and going out to things you actually enjoyed, not just the auctions and showings. It was basically your first real relationship, and while you didn’t want to move too fast with it, you still found yourself in this situation right now.
Of course, the opening of a new art exhibit had never been of interest to you. You hated the parties and the fuss. The way the rich swarmed the new pieces and tried to find meaning in them. It was pointless but it sold, and that was the bottom line really. So, you’d invited Wriothesley, much to Leo’s displeasure, but you hadn’t really thought he’d show up. Nor did you think that you two would have far too much fun, and maybe a little too much to drink, as the party dragged on well past midnight before it finally ended.
The sound of the door to your condo being slammed shut barely registered with you. The idea of “your place or mine?” was never something you thought you’d be in a position to ask, and yet, here you were leading a man into your home because it was closer than his. That thought brought a small smile to your lips as you laughed softly at his apology for letting the door slam. Shaking your head quickly.
“I doubt any of my neighbors would have heard,” you assured Wriothesley. From the expression on his face, did he even care? He was watching you with a look that was more akin to a predator stalking his prey.
“Good,” he said simply, moving closer to you. His hands reaching out for you, and you quickly backed away, giggling at the flash of longing in his eyes.
You backed towards your room, down the hall, and you barely had time to twist the door knob and push the door open before strong arms wrapped around you and crowded you into the room. Wriothesley was quick to push the straps of your dress down then, and you found yourself acting the same. Gripping the fabric of his skin tight shirt and pushing it up carefully to expose his chest. Neither one of you touching the other’s skin. He was every bit as muscular as you had imagined him to be, and it was hard to resist the urge to reach out and trace your finger tips along the ridges of his abs.
His hands found your breasts and you inhaled sharply at the way his thumb brushed over the little bump your nipple makes in the fabric of your bra. You tugged the zipper of your dress down, pushing it down around your waist. Wriothesley pausing momentarily from removing his own shirt to take you in. His crystal light eyes casting his gaze over every inch of your newly exposed skin. There was a hunger there that you’d never seen before. One that was both thrilling and a little scary. One you felt like you’d waited your whole life to see.
You started to push the zipper down more, intending to drop the dress to the floor, but were stopped by a quiet hum from Wriothesley. You looked back up at him just as he stepped forward and scooped you up. His hands cradled your butt, and you didn’t even have time to try to grab a hold of him before he had you laying on your back on your bed. Your legs hanging off the side. You stared at him, a mixture of lust and desire clouding your mind as you watched him slowly slide the silky dress down your legs, leaving you in your bra and panties and on display for him.
A soft gasp escaped your lips that slowly turned into a coo of pleasure as his finger tips found your clit. Rubbing soft circles over the fabric of your panties as he pleased you with one hand. His other was undoing his belt, his button, and then pushing his own pants down until he stood in only his boxers. You hadn’t noticed it before, but you clearly saw it now. The bulge in his boxers that betrayed just how much he equally wanted this. That little wet spot that was forming in the fabric from where the tip strained against the confining fabric.
Your head leaned back against the cover on your bed as the pleasure started to build. His fingers brushed against your nipple through the fabric of your bra, and you gave a soft moan in response. Your fingers tangling with the blanket as you gripped onto it.
“Like that do you?” came Wriothesley’s gruff voice, and you closed your eyes, letting yourself just enjoy the pleasure he was giving you. There was something about the way he touched you that was better than any night you spent alone.
“Mmmph… it’s good,” you managed to get out as his finger against your clit circled a little faster. Your hips bucking slightly in response.
It was good. The feeling of fire that slowly spread through your body. The way your muscles tensed and those soft noises you tried to keep down, slipped through your lips. You didn’t have time to really stop and think about what you were doing because all you could focus on was how he was making you feel.
You couldn’t hold out for much longer. Your muscles tensed and the moan that escaped your lips was louder than before as you came undone from his touch. That feeling of pleasure rolled through you in waves and you gasped and tightened your grip on the bedsheets before your body relaxed. His movements slowing, and yet, still getting you through the high of your orgasm.
He pulled away from you completely, and after taking a second to catch your breath and let your heart rate return to almost normal, you opened your eyes. Meeting his crystal light gaze, his eyes betraying his desire, and your own must have given away how much you needed more. Neither one of you had to say anything, an unspoken consent in the way you looked at each other.
You reached back, leaning up a bit and unhooking your bra, and he was already dropping his boxers to the ground. Your breath in needy pants as he so very slowly and carefully pulled your panties down to the ground.
“You’re beautiful,” he breathed, taking in your entire naked form laying before him. Wanting him. Needing him.
You couldn’t help but smile at the way his hardened cock twitched when he said that. Your eyes admiring the way the little trail of hair led down. The way little drips of pre-cum glistened on the tip. He leaned down towards you and your eyes met his once more. His hands on either side of your waist as he gazed at you seriously.
“You’re sure this is what you want?” he asked. Ever the gentleman making sure you were truly on board with this. Even as he pulled a small square package from his pocket and ripped it open.
You were all too eager to nod your head. “Yes,” you answered quickly. You hadn’t been more sure of anything in your life. This was exactly what you wanted. Needed.
He nodded, and you leaned back against the bed sheets once more. Watching him as he carefully lined himself up with your slit. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to take all of him, endowed as he was. Still, you kept your body relaxed as he stepped closer and the tip pressed against your lips before sliding into your already slick folds.
Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of him entering you. The way you felt yourself stretch to accommodate his girth. A soft gasp and slight whimper at the initial pain, but he was gentle and careful, working you a little bit at a time as he slowly sunk into you deeper. He groaned, his fingers finding your hips and gripping you there as he pushed into the hilt. You were tight, and could feel every twitch of his cock inside you.
Then, he slowly drew his hips back, and you felt his length snake back out, before he bucked his hips back into you once more. Slowly. Rhythmically. The feeling of being with him better than any casual hookup you’d had in the past. Those were quick fucks, this was actual love making.
He drew sounds from your mouth you might have been embarrassed about if it wasn’t for the way he was making you feel so good. Your fingers tangling in the sheets, your body on fire as waves of pleasure crashed over you. He hit impossibly deep inside you, and it had you practically shaking every time he rubbed that sweet spot that made you moan softly.
Your attempt to lean up, to assist at all was met with a hand against your shoulder, holding you down against the bed. He leaned over you, his fingers gripping your hip in a way that had his fingers squeezing your soft skin. It might leave a bruise , but you could care less if it meant he kept going.
“Tsk,” he clicked his tongue. “You just lay there and enjoy, princess,” he said gruffly, teasing you with that pet name. “I’m going to make sure you enjoy this thoroughly.”
Wriothesley was a man of his word. From that point on he made sure that he fucked every color into your vision until all that was left was white. He fucked you until you were a babbling mess that could only manage to whimper and whine his name. Until you had tears rolling down your cheeks, and were so spent from every orgasm he pulled from you, you thought that you were going to pass out from pleasure.
You felt like you were going to pass out by the time his movements became erratic and told you he was close. He pushed himself as deep into you as possible as he moaned out his release. His hips bucking against you with each jerking motion he made, and you being so overstimulated already were once more clenching around his shaft as your walls tightened into a final orgasm that left you panting to catch your breath.
He pulled out and collapsed onto the bed beside you, arms wrapping around you and pulling you against his chest. You barely had the energy to nuzzle into him. So drained and tired, you could have fallen asleep right then and there.
With the way he was running his fingers through your hair and smoothing out the tangles, you found it to be a losing battle.
“Sleepy, pretty girl?”
You heard his soft voice murmured against your hair and felt the teasing chuckle that vibrated his chest. A small smile curled your lips, and you nodded without moving from where you were nestled against him. “It’s late,” you answered quietly. “Stay the night?” That was something you’d never done before, invited someone to spend the night with you. Usually, it was a quick fuck and you sent them on their way. No exactly the most romantic encounters, but then again, you’d never been looking for that.
“If that’s what you want,” Wriothesley agreed softly. You felt his hand travel down from your hair and wrap around you snuggly. He pulled you closer, and you instinctively clung to him as he shifted the both of you. Your head landing on your pillow as he set you down. You peeked up at him, and even in the darkness of the room you swear you could make out different shades than you were used to. Though, you didn’t think anything of it as he pulled the blankets up around the two of you. The only thing on your mind was finally getting some sleep, curled up against his warmth.
The warm sunlight filtering in through the blinds woke you. Yawning, you rubbed your eyes looking over at the spot on the bed next to you. It was empty, but as you put your hand down on the light blue sheets, you could feel the warmth that lingered there. So Wriothesley was awake, but he hadn’t let the bed that long ago. You smiled to yourself and slipped out of bed, the clothes from last night had been collected from the floor, and the midnight blue dress you’d been wearing last night was draped over the chair of your desk. It really was a very pretty color…
Wait.
Wait. Wait! Wait!
The realization hit you so hard that it knocked the air from your lungs. That was color. You could see colors. Any normal person would probably be ecstatic. An amazing night with the person you only just now realized was your soulmate. Waking up to the smell of breakfast wafting down your hallway and through the cracked bedroom door. Yes, any normal person would be ecstatic. So then why was it that you were about to break?
Tears filled your eyes as you clutched at your chest that ached with the realization. Your career, your entire life, had just gone up in smoke for one single passion filled night. You couldn’t breathe as panic and fear rolled over you in waves. You choked on your own voice when you tried to speak. Scrambling off your bed to throw on the first shirt you could grab from your dresser and a pair of shorts. You threw open your bedroom door and practically ran out to your kitchen. The colors of everything were overwhelming, making you almost dizzy as you looked for Wriothesley.
“Wri…o…” You managed to force half of his name out of your mouth when you finally found him. Standing in your kitchen and making what looked like an actually good breakfast. Bright yellow scrambled eggs, crisp brown toast, orange juice in glasses. It made you sick to your stomach when a part of you knew you should be happy. Should be grateful. All you felt was hollow and empty.
“Good morning, beau-“ The words died in his throat when he turned to look at you. Tears streaming down your cheeks, looking pale and trembling with barely contained sobs. His expression was immediately changed to one of concern as he set down what he was doing and walked over to you. “What’s wrong?” he asked, reaching out for you. You didn’t miss the almost pained look in his eyes at the way you refused to let him touch you, nor the way your own heart ached at that.
“You… You’re my… soulmate?” you whispered in an accusing tone. Your voice was shaking as fresh tears fell from your eyes. “You knew! Didn’t you!” It surprised even you with how harsh those words sounded as your voice rose.
Wriothesley said your name so quietly, and he looked so hurt and confused from the way you were acting, but all you could think about was how your life was ruined. How everything you had worked so hard for was going to come tumbling down on you. He tried to reach out for you, but you backed away again, shaking your head back and forth. “Can we please talk about this?” he asked, sounding a little desperate.
“Don’t,” you whispered, your emotions starting to overwhelm that little control you had over them. “Get out. Please. Just leave.” You knew this wasn’t his fault. Somewhere deep down, the rational part of your brain knew that. Yet, you couldn’t accept it. Not right now. Not when everything was falling apart. Everything. You watched the conflicted look on his face before he sighed resigned, made sure the burner was off, and then with one last glance back towards you, left through the front door.
You had thought that being alone would help. That it would maybe allow you a second to think and process and understand. Come up with a plan maybe? It had the opposite effect instead. You felt more empty, more isolated, hollower. You sank to the floor as your emotions took over. Sobs raking through your body as you cried until you couldn’t breathe. Clutching your chest to try to hold yourself together. As if it would stop you from breaking into a million pieces.
What were you going to do now?
Spring:
For the first few weeks, you had shut yourself away.
You didn’t want to talk to anyone. You didn’t want to see anyone. You ignored phone calls and texts, refusing to leave home. If you needed food or anything you could just order it. Groceries to your door, take out on the nights you didn’t feel like cooking. All the while you tried so hard to come up with a plan. Could you pretend like it never happened? Pretend you still couldn’t see color? No. It would never work. You had seen the piece you had been working on, and the truth? You hated it. It was ugly. Horrible. You didn’t understand how anyone liked the art you had created before.
When Leo showed up at your door and practically dragged you out, you had no choice but to tell him. You knew he’d be disappointed, but what you hadn’t expected was how angry he was with you. The way he was screaming at you like this was your fault, and you had somehow ruined his life. This was your own fault, you knew that, but how would this ruin his life? You tried to meekly offer alternatives. Explaining you didn’t like the artwork you had now and maybe this was a good thing; you could change your style? That only seemed to anger Leo more.
“Are you INSANE?” he screamed, making you flinch. “You can’t just change your style now! People Expect things from you! NO! You’re going to fix this! Find a way to fix this!”
Tears filled your eyes as you watched him pace in front of you. You’d never seen Leo so angry before, and admittedly you were scared. “Fix this how?” you asked quietly, your voice trembling a bit. You flinched when he turned to you. His eyes blazing with his anger. He was basically seething.
“I don’t know how, but YOU have to FIGURE THIS OUT!” Leo screamed once more, making you shrink down lower into the couch. The tears rolling down your cheeks as they escaped your eyes. He took a step towards you, and you leaned back against the couch more, trying to escape the hatred in his eyes. “It was that asshole wasn’t it?” he asked, his tone going dark.
You swallowed hard, your voice shaking when you spoke. “Leave Wriothesley out of it. It’s not his fault.” It wasn’t. You couldn’t blame him at all, despite how you’d acted that morning. He had been nothing but a gentleman the entire time, making sure you truly were ok with everything he was doing. Looking back on it, you had overreacted, and you knew it, but that realization only dawned on you now.
Leo wasn’t listening to you at all. He’d resumed his pacing, muttering about how he was going to find Wriothesley and make him pay for ruining everything. Watching this and having dealt with the last fifteen minutes of being berated by your manager, your hands clenched into fists at your side. You grit your teeth, but it was the last thing Leo said that finally made you snap. “I should have never let him get close to you in the first place.”
“Excuse me?” You finally found your voice as anger started to rise in your chest. You glared at Leo, a look you had never given to him before. “You do not get to control my life, Leo. You are my manager for my art. Not my life coach, and certainly not my father!” You sat up straighter on the couch, your sudden shift in mood giving Leo pause as he looked at you like you’d just slapped him. For your entire time of knowing him, you’d never once spoken back to him, or stood up for yourself like this. He was your manager; you had always assumed that of course he knew best. Doubts had been filling your mind ever since you’d met Wriothesley. Ever since you’d finally started to have a life. Wriothesley never once commented on your relationship with Leo, he’d let you figure it out for yourself, and you finally had.
“Leo. You’re fired. Get out.”
The words left your mouth so calmly. An instant feeling of peace having washed over you. You didn’t even feel the usual guilt that always hit you with every decision you made for yourself. Not this time. Leo was shocked into silence. He stared at you with wide eyes, and you merely sat there calmly. He stumbled over some excuse, but when you didn’t budge and just kept looking at him, he started fuming again.
“You are NOTHING without me!” he shouted at you. “Fine! Fire me! You’ll regret it! You’re ruined anyway!”
In a true display of a toddler having a tantrum, he stomped his way over to your front door, kicking a table along the way. He threw the door open so fast that it slammed into the wall, and then immediately slammed it closed behind him. You sat there for a second, watching the door, before bursting out into laughter. Maybe you’d lost your mind, anyone who could see you right now would certainly think so, but for the first time in a long time you felt like you knew exactly what you wanted.
Wiping the tears from your face and eyes, you stood up from the couch. Taking a deep breath you headed for your room, looking for your phone. You needed to speak to Wriothesley. Apologize and pray that he would give you a… third chance? The realization that this was a third chance made you more nervous, but you bravely started typing out a message to him. Your fingers flying across the screen, and before long you basically had written a novel explaining how stupid and sorry you were. You’d even told him what happened with Leo. Hitting send; there was nothing left to do but wait.
Days went by.
Weeks.
The snow melted, the flowers began to sprout, and still nothing from Wriothesley.
You’d found a new agent, and contrary to Leo’s words, your career wasn’t ruined. Just because you could see colors didn’t mean your art suffered. It meant that making landscape pieces became your new style. Much like Navia had recommended to you before, you found yourself drawing and painting the snowscapes, autumn tree lined lanes, and beautiful flower fields. Your art spoke to people in a different way, but in a better way. Some would comment about the emotion in the pieces. Others complimented your color mixing and how realistic you managed to make things. As it turned out, your career had never been better.
Yet, despite it all, you still wondered about your missing soulmate. The last message he’d sent you read, “I’ll be here if you change your mind.” So where was he? You couldn’t help that feeling of longing in your chest. You missed him more than you ever thought you could miss anyone. You’d even gone looking for him, but of course the place he’d told you he lived was empty. Like he’d disappeared or never existed at all. You’d been upset. You’d been angry. Now you just felt a little hollow.
Life continued to go on, even without your ghost of a soulmate. Your new art manager had set up a gallery showing for your latest pieces. They would be on display for a few months before being auctioned off. Well, all except one of them. A piece you’d made for yourself. It was a painting of the café in town, set in autumn. You’d made Navia sit for hours to tell you every detail of the leaves and sky from that day. You had even hidden a small secret in the corner of the painting. Something just barely noticeable, that most people missed. The shadow of a couple could be seen walking away hand in hand. A wish for how that day might have gone.
The sound of your name drew you out of your thoughts, and you blinked realizing that Navia’s face was literally inches from yours. She laughed when you jumped and stumbled backwards. “Are you ok? It’s almost time for this party to start right?” she asked you, trying not to laugh harder as the frown on your face. She looked beautiful in the golden colored A-line dress she wore. Off the shoulder cuff sleeves with a lace sweep train. Then again, she could pull off anything she wore.
“Yes,” you said with a huff, smoothing out the dress you were wearing. You had to admit, darker colors did look better on you. This dress was skintight with a slit down the side and a sweep train. Silk with a V-neck and thin straps, and dark grey in color. Black lacey flowers rose up along the slit on the front of the dress, climbing higher until they wrapped the entire top of the dress and dropped down around the corset style back of the dress and ended at the seat. It was a little more daring than anything you’d ever worn before, but you had picked out something you liked.
Not wanting to spend the evening alone, you’d asked Navia to come to the showing with you. Your friend having immediately agreed, proclaiming she had been looking for an excuse to dress up. Really, you knew she was doing it so you wouldn’t be lonely. You had admittedly been a little distant ever since the whole color incident. Thankfully, she hadn’t held any of it against you, and since you’d been relying on her a bit too much lately, you figured this might be a fun night for you two.
For the first time in your life, you weren’t completely hating a gallery showing. For the first time ever, you didn’t spend the entire time off to the side with your back against the wall watching every rich person who walked in gush about art you knew now was absolutely hideous. You accepted the compliments this time, didn’t shy away from people, and had just a little bit of fun. Even if you were trying to ignore the ache in your chest at the sight of those high-class people with their soulmates. Something that never truly bothered you before. Or maybe it did, just a little, deep down.
“Actually enjoying yourself tonight? You look beautiful.”
The voice was gruff, low, and all too familiar. Accompanied with the ghost of a touch along your bare arm that left goosebumps rising on your skin. Your breath caught in your throat as you slowly turned around. Eyes wide as they landed on the man standing behind you. Wriothesley. He was watching you with such a soft look as his eyes never left your own. A smile barely on his lips as he stepped closer to you but hesitated. You didn’t, however, wrapping your arms around him and pressing yourself as close to his chest as possible.
“Wriothesley,” you breathed out quietly. Maybe you should have been upset or angry, but all you could feel was pure happiness to see him again. To know that he did truly exist. You could be angry with him later for disappearing(you wouldn’t be), but for right now all you wanted was to be close to him and breath in the scent of the cologne that he was wearing. “You’re here.”
Wriothesley hugged you back tightly, inhaling as he rested his cheek against the top of your head. “I’m sorry for disappearing. There were some… unforeseen incidents,” he said sounding a little sheepish. You pulled back, looking up at him curiously.
You were both still standing in the near middle of the gallery floor, and the sudden attention had your cheeks burning. “Maybe we should…” you offered, noticing the looks you were getting. You tilted your head to the side to motion to head in that direction, and you’d be lying if the rumble in his chest as he chuckled didn’t send a shiver down your spine.
Wrapping one arm around your waist, in what could only be described as a possessive and protective gesture, Wriothesley led you through the crowd to a more secluded spot (You gave Navia an apologetic look as you passed her, but she waved you off with a knowing smirk). A spot, you realized, that was where the two of you had first met. Only this time he didn’t leave space between you two. Staying right at your side and keeping you almost out of sight.
“So, what happened?” you blurted out, turning to face your elusive soulmate. “I mean… wait… I’m sorry,” you added, realizing you’d never apologized for how you’d acted. You never had the chance. “I overreacted, and I’m so sorry for that, but you… you disappeared.” Your expression shifted to a pout by the end of it. Looking up into those beautiful crystal blue eyes of his. They reminded you of winter’s first frost.
You were trying not to be distracted, but this was the first time you’d taken the time to really see Wriothesley for who he was. In full color. The streaks of dark gray through his messy black hair. The way that little crescent shaped scar curled under his right eye. He wasn’t dressed up tonight, or maybe it was better to say that his attire looked a little rushed. His red tie wasn’t even under the collar of the vest he wore. Yet, he was every bit as handsome as you remembered him to be. More so now that you could really see him.
Wriothesley reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek, and his thumb brushing softly against your skin. He smiled at you and shook his head. “You don’t need to apologize to me, beautiful,” he said softly to you. “And I’m sorry for disappearing,” he added. “My phone broke from an altercation at work.” His explanation was a little elusive, but talking about work wasn’t something Wriothesley liked to do. You knew he was a part of the police force, a detective of some kind? Since he didn’t like to talk about it, you never pressed the subject, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious.
Your eyes immediately swept over him, but you didn’t see any injuries. “You’re ok though, right?” you asked him worriedly, and you felt him tilt you chin up so your eyes would meet his again.
“I’m fine,” he promised you. “I had a case that required me to go undercover, and there wasn’t enough time to tell anyone. I apologize for disappearing, but the second I could I came to find you.”
“Your apartment was empty,” you pointed out.
Wriothesley smiled sheepishly at you and nodded. “That’s because of the altercation I mentioned…” he said trailing off and looking away. His tell that he didn’t want to talk about it.
You sighed and put your hand over his, turning your head to kiss his palm. “You’re going to have to open up to me eventually,” you pointed out, looking back up at him. “I don’t mind you keeping your secrets for now, but if we’re going to be together, I’d prefer it if we could be open and honest with each other. About everything. Well, unless it’s something top secret.”
You were not expecting the look on his face when you said that. He was looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He used his free hand to pull you closer against him, pressing you flush against his chest as his lips met yours, drowning out the small squeak of surprise that left you. You melted into him, kissing him back as your eyes fluttered shut. Your arms reaching up around his neck as you pulled yourself impossibly closer to him.
He pulled away after a minute leaving you breathless with flushed cheeks. He smiled as he gazed down at you, still holding you close. His hands on your hips to keep you from escaping him. “Sweetheart, I will tell you everything you want to know. I’m just glad I found you and you forgive me.”
You huffed and looked away. “Of course I forgive you. You’re my soulmate, Wrio,” you said quietly. You wanted to tell him you loved him, but maybe it was still a little early for that. There was time for that later. You would have your entire lives together, after all. Looking back at him you smiled at the soft look he was giving you. “Are you staying?” you asked him, meaning for the rest of the gallery showing.
“For as long as you’ll have me,” he promised you.
Slipping free from his grip, you took his hand in yours, interlocking your fingers with his. You led him back into the crowd of people, staying close to his side. “Forever seems like a long enough time,” you said, thoughtfully.