Chapter Text
Stupid Instagram and their stupid targetted ads. They were mocking him. It’s like his phone knew he’d uninstalled that ridiculous “find your soulmate” dating app last week ( Mated? Or maybe that was three apps ago ) . They didn’t work for people like him, cursed to see the world in black and white until he’d met his soulmate. If only he’d gotten lucky.
Frustrated, he shoved his phone back in his pocket. A car roared by, the radio blaring an advertisement for that TV show, Love vs Nature. More lucky bastards, they had arrows on their wrists to point to their soulmates. ( The reruns would be on at 3am and he’d watch anyway, it was better than those phony Help Us Find Your Soulmate shows ) .
Yes, okay, he was griping, but for God’s sake, he was thirty and there hadn’t been a speck of color in his life. He was sick of having a tailor who promised him he was wearing orange and that pink looked nice with his dark hair. ( His tailor had gotten lucky, he’d been 24 when he’d met his soulmate aka his lifelong business partner. Their chests had glowed. Morrison hated that damn story. ) He was sick of the dating apps, promising to help him, but they were really good for people with initials or names tattooed to their wrists. He was sick of the booming Find Your Soulmate businesses who hadn’t been able to help him. He was sick of trying and dating and getting nowhere.
It had been fun at 20 , he thought, as the light changed colors ( not that he could see it ) and he went to cross the street. He hadn’t been outed at a young age like several of the other patrons at his bar. He’d made the rounds, called it soulmate searching, and had left behind a string of broken hearts like it was a game. That and there were plenty of flings too. He’d had fun and thought he didn’t need love. But 30, or getting old rather, tended to change one perspective. He’d have grey hairs soon, if he didn’t have them already.
The thoughts churned through his head, made worse by the buzz of alcohol and the fact that he’d be going home alone tonight. Why had he parked across the street again? Oh, right, the stupid bachelorette party. He walked quickly across the poorly lit street, the Royal Ramrod’s sign casting pale white light against his back. He’d been told the sign was actually an obnoxious red. Good, he hoped to see it himself one day.
Maybe it was the alcohol or the fact that he was moping about, too lost in his own mind to see it coming. Maybe it was that the driver was going too fast and the area was poorly lit and everyone took the corner at top speed. Maybe it was luck or fate or destiny or what have you. Maybe it was because he was fucking colorblind.
Something struck him hard and the world went horribly black before he’d even hit the pavement.
***
“I’m so sorry you came all this way,” a voice was saying. Morrison kept his eyes squeezed shut. His hangover was killing him. And when had his sheets been anything but silk? “I meant to call you to cancel, but this patient came in last minute…” the voice trailed off. It was faint, like the person was outside the door.
He couldn’t be home. That was a woman’s voice and Morrison Cox did not take home women. His eyes popped open. He blinked and his eyes settled on two figures in the doorway. He blinked again. Neither of them were in black and white. His mouth opened and hung there for several minutes as he stared.
“No, no, Blythe please, it’s okay.” The most beautiful man Morrison had ever seen was saying. He laid a hand on the young woman’s arm and his smile was enchanting. The color white was suddenly his new favorite, if it came attached to this mystery man. “I can bring you takeout instead?”
“To save me from the cafeteria food? Oh, Nasir, you’re too sweet.” Nasir. His name was Nasir. Gorgeous. A ring glinted on the woman’s finger. This better not be her damn husband, that just wouldn’t be fair.
The man chuckled and the sound was literally the best thing he’d ever heard. “Of course, Blythe. But you’ll still owe me a raincheck on dinner.”
“Promise. Maybe next weekend? Magnus wants to get out of a work party, we can provide him an excuse.”
“Can I come? Wherever you are sounds like heaven,” Morrison said without thinking and they both turned to look at him. He made eye contact with the man and whatever color his eyes were… that was it. That was his new favorite color, the most beautiful he’d ever seen. Wow. He wished for the words to describe it.
“Mr. Cox, you’re awake I see. I’m Dr. Ayre.” the young woman said and crossed to the end of his bed. She picked up his chart, flipped through a couple pages. Nasir lingered in the doorway, something like shock on his features. “You’re very lucky. How are you feeling?”
“To be here with an angel? Yes.” Morrison replied and watched color rise in Nasir’s cheeks. “Never been better.”
Blythe sighed and looked at him. “To be alive . You were hit by a car. The driver’s been taken into custody. We’ll be keeping you overnight for observation, but thankfully, your injuries weren’t extensive.”
“I will be pressing charges.” Morrison said and spared Blythe a quick glance. She was medium height and pretty, even in the scrubs and white coat. “The bastard hit me with his car.” He turned back to Nasir who was still staring at him with bright cheeks and flabbergasted. Well, that was fair, he tended to have that effect on people. “Wait, where are my clothes?”
Blythe jabbed her pen to a bag on the side of the room. A corner of one of the garments stuck out and the color was ostentatious. He knew his tailor was doing his job right. “I’ll let the police know. Now, is there anyone I can call for you, Mr. Cox? Family? Friends?”
Morrison shot a broad grin at the man in the doorway. “Can I have your number?”
He blinked. Morrison missed his eyes for the brief second they were out of sight. “What?”
“Can I have your number?” Morrison winked. “See, this lovely doctor is trying to find my emergency contact. This is an emergency and I’m looking for you to be my contact.”
“That was horrible.” Blythe huffed and put his chart down. “Well, I see you’re feeling alright. Someone from the nurse’s station will be in to check on you in a few hours. There’s a remote there, let us know if you need anything.”
“Wait,” Morrison said and let his grin drop for a moment. “What color are his eyes?”
“Who? Nasir’s?” Blythe asked. Morrison nodded. “Blue, why would you-”
Nasir took her arm and whispered something in her ear. “Push the button if you need anything, Mr. Cox.” Blythe said and let herself be dragged out the door.
Morrison leaned forward, despite the ache in his body and watched them out the window. His lip reading was fuzzy at best, but he’d caught the most important word on Nasir’s mouth. Soulmates . He was sure of it. Things were about to get very interesting.