Violet saw everything as black and white. Literally. She lived in a world where everything was in various shades of grey; trees, cars, even people. That was, until the day you met your soulmate… or so it was said. In her 23 years of living, Violet had only dreamed about how different things would look in colour. She had never met anyone close to being soulmate material, going on countless dates with countless guys who just didn’t seem to do anything for her. Every time, she would come home to the hopeful faces of her parents and shake her head - her world remained in black and white.
When she was younger, her parents had told her about how they met, both saying that they had just known, the world erupting in colour the moment they had fallen in love. They had met in a laundromat as they both reached for the same washing tablet, their worlds colliding in an explosion of vibrancy. It was a hyperbolic disaster, but it still filled Violet’s heart with hope. She was longing to see in anything but black and white. Her mother used to tell her stories before bed, trying to explain what the world looked like in colour, and what her favourite was. She told tales of green grass dotted with red and yellow flowers, little girls in pink dresses, and blue water meeting golden sand. And, even though Violet had no idea what any of these colours looked like, she knew it sounded beautiful.
She thought that falling in love would be instant - fireworks and sparks, explosions and tingles. She expected to fall in love with a handsome face that took her breath away, sparkling eyes that shone in the sun, beauty that made her heart skip a beat, even if it wasn’t in colour. She believed it to be immediate, that she would know as soon as she saw them. She had expected to fall in love with a tall, mysterious stranger, someone who could sweep her off her feet. A man that could take her out, wine and dine her, treat her right. She had thought about countless mornings waking up with her soulmate, wrapped in strong arms, feeling safe and protected. Someone that she could look at and be proud of, someone to make other people jealous. She hoped to fall for someone that wasn’t ashamed of her.
It was another night, another restaurant, another guy. He had fluffy light hair, softly windswept, perfectly framing his face. However, it was his eyes that drew her in; they were grey, much like everything else, but they seemed to shine with excitement and mischief. He was a challenge, exactly what Violet was looking for, something to keep her on her toes. He was well dressed, too, in a light shirt and slightly darker waistcoat that really shouldn’t look good on anyone, but he happened to pull it off well.
He was just her type: tall, mysterious, handsome - everything she was looking for… until he opened his mouth. Violet was already, unintentionally, on her third glass of wine, drinking just so she had something to do. The man had been talking about his ex for at least 40 minutes and seemed quite oblivious to the fact that Violet would rather gouge her eyes out with a rusty spoon than listen to him continue. He was comparing her to other women, saying how she wasn’t like them, self centred or bitchy, mean or spiteful. Matt seemed like your average ass, pretty to look at but full of shit. Violet had had enough.
Then, to top it all off, he ignored her to chat up the waitress. Violet had stopped listening to their conversation the moment it began, instead spending her time looking at the girl. She wasn’t going to say that the waitress wasn’t pretty - she was - but it was completely unnecessary for her to encourage the shitty behaviour of her date. Walking up to the table with her obviously-dyed curly hair, her seemingly overdrawn-lips, and her skirt that was way too short for work. But Violet guessed she was just being picky, annoyed that she’d been getting no attention from her date and then some pretty, curvy girl just takes it all without even trying.
She began looking for an escape, a way to end what might possibly be the worst date she had ever been on. The waitress threw her a sympathetic look, as if she knew the embarrassment Violet was feeling, and Violet began to realise that maybe the other girl wasn’t all that interested either. She decided to listen in to their conversation just as it seemed to come to a close, her head shooting up at the word ‘lesbian’. Violet almost choked on another gulp of wine whilst trying to contain her laughter, the situation being made funnier by the anger and embarrassment appearing on her date’s face. The waitress scurried off, probably just as eager to escape this asshole as she was.
Violet stayed sat there, taking in what had just happened. She studied the look on Matt’s face, the food she hadn’t touched, the glass of wine that was almost empty. As her eyes traveled back up to her date’s face, she realised that he must have been speaking. His face was still red, radiating heat that she could almost feel from where she was sitting, and she took that as a sign to leave. She put the money for her food on the table before making her way to the exit.
“Well, you know what, Violet” Matt spat out as Violet reached the door, “I never even wanted to date you. It was a bet, get the bitch’s heart, but clearly you don’t have one. You’re nothing but a worthless slut, only good to look at.” Violet didn’t even give him a second glance.
As she began walking down the street towards her apartment, she heard her name being called from behind. She was half hoping it to be her shitty date, wanting to apologise just so he didn’t look like an utter asshole, but it wasn’t. She turned around to see the waitress from earlier, looking slightly out of breath. She had changed clothes, now wearing a baggy band shirt and ripped fishnets with a pair of dark boots, her hair carelessly thrown into a ponytail. The waitress offered a smile as she stepped closer.
“Hi,” She exhaled, still short of breath, “uh, I just wanted to say sorry, and all. That guy was a dick, you don’t deserve that.”
“Thanks, I felt really stupid.”
“Hey, uh, I know that this is kinda sudden but I saw that you were having a shitty evening and so am I and, uh, I was wondering if you wanted to come back to my place and have a drink? Y’know? Forget that asshole. Have a mini party for two? I kinda could do with the company.” The waitress seemed nice enough, and after the day Violet was having, she could do with some cheering up.
“Sure, why not.”
“Oh, I’m Adore by the way.”
“Violet.” she paused, placing a hand on her forehead in slight embarrassment. “And, you already knew that. Sorry, long night.”
The pair stopped off at a shop nearby, hoping to buy the cheapest alcohol they could afford to drink so that they could drown their sorrows while watching trash tv. On their walk, Adore let Violet vent about her awful date, joining in wherever she could to bitch. Violet had already learned that Adore loved everything to do with the 80s; she wished that she had been born slightly earlier so that she could have experienced them. Violet explained her love for a different era, the 50s, and how she loved the look and the confidence it gave her.
A few hours and two bottles of wine in, they were both a tipsy, giggly mess, laughing at everything the other said whether it was funny or not. They swapped stories about past dates, best and worst, and laughed at each other’s misfortunes.
“Okay, but literally we were halfway through a meal and all he was talking about was whale safety. WHALE. FUCKING. SAFETY. And I know it’s cool to talk about the environment and it’s great to care but he was talking about nothing else. I couldn’t even add to the conversation.” Violet’s eyes were wide in horror as she recounted the story.
“Whale,” Adore paused to laugh, still gasping for air, “safety!” The two collapsed into another heap of drunken laughter, Violet starting to feel better about her shitty date with Matt that evening.
“No, I think I can top that.” Adore said after their laughter had subsided.
“Try it.” Violet challenged. Adore took a deep breath, grinning.
“Okay, so, I really liked this girl, and we decided to spend the morning baking some food for a picnic. We then went on this really fucking long walk - she was an athlete by the way - And there she was, looking the epitome of fitness, glowing skin and steady breathing, and I was there wheezing my lungs off, covered in sweat, fucking starving. So we get to the top of this huge hill and sit to eat this food we baked, and she eats hardly anything, right, so I feel bad eating it all, so I pace myself. Bad idea. Because that was all I was eating until we went out for dinner. By this point I was feeling like a malnourished kid in Africa, and I was so excited to go for pizza, and she was paying. Win win, right? WRONG! So we get there and sit down, talk for a bit, get a drink, and THEN she orders… she orders one pizza… for us to share. Now, I don’t know if you know this about me, but I love, and I mean love, pizza. I could eat a whole pizza by myself, easy. So I’m like ‘what’s this bitch thinking’ and then she takes 2 FUCKING SLICES, that’s all. And, obviously, it’s still a first date, so I gotta be polite, so I match what she takes, hoping that she’ll eat more, BUT SHE DOESN’T. So, I’m sitting there, still starving, and I can’t just go back home to eat more because I’m out of town and staying at her place, fucking tragic. Now, that’s already pretty bad, right? But she ALSO lives with her parents, so I had to sleep in a separate bed on the floor. Here I was, starving, cold, pissed off, and it wasn’t even midnight. Then, the next morning, I wake up early, before her, and go to the toilet, unaware that their door doesn’t have a lock. You see where this is going? Because I didn’t. I walked in on her super hot naked brother in the shower, while I was also just in a shirt. I fucking legged it out of there, super embarrassed, and run into her dad, who apparently already hated me, who was stood outside the door. And, to top it all off, I was soops excited for breakfast, I was still starving, you know what she has? Half a piece of toast. You know what I had to have? THE OTHER FUCKING HALF. Let me tell you, I have never been so happy to leave somewhere before, and I’ve been to prison.”
Adore took another deep breath, not realising how fast she had been talking until the story was over. Violet was hunched over, body shaking with uncontrollable laughter as she let the story sink in, the waitress then joining in. Once the laughter had subsided, Violet spoke.
“Okay, so what about your worst kiss?”
“One time, this guy tried to fuck me in his backseat, but when he kissed me it was like, all gape, all tongue, no kiss. But, see, the thing is, I had to go in, like, ten minutes, and the last thing I said to him was ‘bitch, I’m not a ten minute fuck’. I got my ass outta that car and haven’t seen him since. Yours?”
“Fuck, it wasn’t too bad. It was some kid called Jack in like, eighth grade, and he pushed me up against a wall and shoved his tongue down my throat. It was gross.”
“Oh come on, you have to have something better than that. You look like an awful kisser!” Adore joked. Instead of humour or insult, Violet’s face showed determination.
“What the fuck, bitch? I am a great kisser!”
“Prove it.”
It was no longer a joke, the trace of humour in Adore’s voice was long-gone. It was a challenge. All laughter had stopped, the world now seemingly silent besides the sound of breathing and Violet’s heart in her ears. They stared at each other, never breaking eye contact as they slowly inched closer. Violet couldn’t take her eyes off of Adore’s face, now noticing things she was unable to before; the indent from a nose ring on the left of her nose and the tiny freckle under her bottom lip. Violet was mesmerized.
Everything was happening at a painfully slow pace, every movement seemingly taking forever. Then, Violet felt a sudden wave of confidence. She brought her hand up to the rest on the back of Adore’s neck, her thumb brushing the curve of her jaw as she pulled her face closer. She stopped, their noses touching, their lips only millimeters apart. She could almost taste the wine on Adore’s tongue as she inched ever closer.
She could feel the other girl’s breath on her face, her eyelashes brushing against her cheek as her eyes closed in anticipation. She eventually used her free hand to tilt Adore’s face up, tentatively pressing their lips together for a brief moment before hesitantly pulling away.
It was as if that small kiss had lit a fire in Violet. In the split second it had taken her to slowly pull away, something had changed within her. She felt confident and shy, scared and excited, alive and nervous, all at the same time. She placed both of her hands on Adore’s face, pulling her greedily into another kiss. This time she wasn’t gentle; this time she didn’t pull away. They sat there like that for a moment, before Adore broke the kiss.
“Okay, I believe you.” Adore said breathlessly against Violet’s lips. Violet smiled, a mix of victory and uncontainable joy illuminated her face as the pair moved to lay down on Adore’s bed.
***
Violet woke up to the sound of heavy rain on the window and soft breathing in her ear, the faint smell of vanilla and wine filling the room. She stayed there, eyes closed, content and warm, taking in the moment.
As she slowly opened her eyes, things looked different. What was once a vast expanse of monochromatic simplicity was now a vivid explosion of colour. She shot up, taking in the sight of the room around her. The white walls were covered in colourful posters, the beige carpet was splattered with multicoloured paint, the wardrobe was the same colour as the wooden door. Her duvet was a patchwork of vibrancy; the colours were ugly and clashing but Violet didn’t care, to her it was beautiful.
Names of colours were dancing around her head. It was as if she had known what they were all along, like she had been seeing in colour her whole life. The new knowledge was overwhelming. it was like a subpar superpower; the ability to name colours she had never encountered before.
She ran to the window, wanting to see what the world outside looked like in colour. The sky was the same colour as some of the paint on the floor, a beautiful pastel blue, the scattering of greying clouds creating a sense of familiarity in the newly changed world. There was a forest outside of the window full of swaying trees and blossoming flowers. The leaves were a mixture of beautiful greens and the trunks were a dark brown, much like Adore’s wardrobe, that stood out against the contrast of the bright yellow daffodils that surrounded them.
She walked over to the mirror by the door, desperate to know what she looked like. She almost cried at the sight of herself; everything was so familiar but entirely different. Her skin was almost the same, milky and white but now with a hint of pink, her hair also oddly similar to the colour it was before. She was in a shirt that she had borrowed from Adore, a baggy grey tee with a mermaid bra on the front, the shells matching the baby pink colour of her lips. Violet then looked at her eyes. They were a dark brown, almost black, that shone with the reflection of the sunlight outside.
There was a sound from behind her, a soft yawn and the rustle of movement. As soon as she realised what the sound was, she span round as fast as she could, wondering what Adore looked like. She wanted to see her in colour, wondered if she was as beautiful as she was in grayscale.
Adore was laying on her front facing away from Violet, her head resting on her outstretched arm. Her skin was darker than Violet’s, small constellations of brown freckles were visible on the parts of her shoulder that weren’t covered by her curly, blonde hair. She began to stir, and Violet realised how long she had been staring at her. As she turned around, her sleepy eyes began to open, calm turning to confusion and shock almost instantly.
Much like Violet had done earlier that morning, she sat up, her eyes moving at a frantic pace as she looked at her bedroom. As the blonde was taking in her surroundings, Violet looked more closely at her. She was even more enchanting in colour; her cheeks were bright and rosy, her plump lips were a beautiful dark pink. Violet watched her, amused and enthralled at the captivating girl in front of her.
Finally their eyes met in a silent conversation that seemed to say ‘oh my god’, ‘what the fuck?’, and ‘how?’ all at once. They moved closer to each other in silence, still too shocked to say anything. Violet was finally close enough to see Adore’s eyes, the one thing she had been dying to see the most. Before, they were an enchanting mix of greys, seemingly so full of life and excitement, but in colour they were so much more. From under a mess of unkempt blonde hair peeked eyes of honey and emerald, a mix of fortune and warmth.
Violet felt fuzzy inside. She was only now realising what this all meant. The girl that she had met less than a day ago was her soulmate, the love of her life, her forever. But Violet didn’t understand it. There was no fourth of July in her stomach as they kissed, there was no instant recognition, and Adore was definitely not the man of her dreams. It didn’t seem to make any sense.
But then, as she was laying on the bed, watching Adore as she got ready, she began to understand. It wasn’t the fact that her eyes looked like the forest outside, a mismatch of muted greens and earthy browns, and it wasn’t the fact that her lips were the colour of summer berries. It wasn’t the way that her eyes went wide when she figured something out, or the way her tongue prodded the corners of her mouth after speaking. It wasn’t even the way that her hand covered her mouth when she was embarrassed, or the way that the corner of her eyes crinkled when she smiled. It was how her laughter painted masterpieces and radiated warmth, how she carried this feeling of safety and home. It was the way that she made everyone feel important, and how she carried herself with such pride without taking herself too seriously. It was how she was everything Violet wanted and more.