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Ren’s eyes were brown when her first met her.
They both were small, covered in the soot of the burned city. The weight of the things they had seen hung on their tiny slumped shoulders. Their age was visible only in their size, not their battle-scorned eyes.
The bulk of the grimm had left the city days before, satisfied with the destruction. Though a stragglers were enough to drive the survivors into hiding. Ren had thought it wise to try to scavenge up some food, the pangs in his stomach a constant reminder he was alive.
Some were not so lucky.
Instead of a meal, he found a short dirty-looking redheaded girl hiding behind a blackened car, clutching an apple like it was made of gold. Her hair and the piece of fruit was a blot of color on an otherwise dull landscape.
Ren was frozen, his eyes flickering from the apple to her freckled face. The silence that passed between them was shattered by the audible grumble of his stomach.
She was silent, watching him with eyes made of glacier ice. Then like a slow burning flame, the girl grinned.
“Want some,” she asked, cradling her apple.
Ren was silent, grimacing to himself. Then with shaky hands he took the fruit, his fingertips brushing her’s. She jumped , flinching away like she had been electrocuted.
“Your eyes,” she sputtered a little too loud, “They turned pink!”
Years had passed since the disaster that had rendered the pair orphans. The world became shiny and new, as the life of a hunter opened up before them both, a stark comparison to their introduction to the world of grimm. Their strength grew and their fear shrunk.
Everything changes, including eyes.
Ren did not put much thought into his changed eyes, ever since it happened (Except for maybe the day Nora had insisted on dying a matching streak into his hair). After they left the destroyed city, they had heard whispers and legends talking of soulmates and transforming eyes. They were children’s stories passed down like the common cold through kindergartens.
Nora said it was romantic. Ren said it was impossible.
Though his own pink eyes adverted when someone spoke of it, in the same tone one would speak of a fairy tale. He did not dare to meet Nora’s stubbornly turquoise eyes with his own.
What if you aren’t your soulmate’s soulmate?
“Ren,” Nora fell in next to him, nearly singing his name, “You are looking really glum! This is a party. You should be partying.” She waved a hand over the crowd.
It was not much of a party, to be honest. A school dance was not usually seen as the pinnacle of wild.
Ren was thankful for that. Though he was less than grateful that Nora had dragged him along.
“You know I’m not much for parties,” he muttered.
Nora frowned comically, clutching her chest. “But it’s a dance! Shouldn’t we enjoy our youth with fun and stuff?”
“Nora,” he finally met her gaze with a small smile, “Your idea of fun is dismembering grimm.”
She grinned, letting out a high-pitched giggle. “Good point.”
He matched her smile, leaning in close to her to rest his shoulder on her’s. Even in the crowded room, the scent of her skin was distinct to his nose. Flowers and steel. The smell of oil that was usually on her hands (a common byproduct of wielding a transforming weapon) was absent, scrubbed away in preparation for the dance. Her hair was a little fluffier too, not matted by sweat produced by a heavy battle. She was even wearing a little makeup.
She looks beautiful.
Ren’s breath caught in his throat as he watched her. She was not looking at him not excitedly looking around the crowded room. It was a fact that he thought of her as attractive at all times.
Even when he was doused in a thin layer of oil and had her bangs pulled back in a haphazard fashion as she tuned up Magnhild. Even as she slept, mouth open and snoring softly in their shared room. Even when she wielded her hammer like one would swing a baseball bat.
But this time was different.
Her easy casual beauty lent well to traditional feminine sort of beauty, her dress hanging easily off of her body and the eyeliner just right on her big eyes.
Ren did not notice the music had changed until, Nora grabbed him by the hand.
“Oh! A slow song!” She gazed at him hopefully. “Maybe we could- I mean not as a couple but as friends. A couple of friends! I mean-uh-”
“Nora, do you want to dance?”
For once the red-head was mute, nodding wordlessly.
Ren moved like in a dream, wrapping his hands around her chubby waist. Her own hands were at his shoulders, draped lazily over them. Though he could feel the anxiety in her form as their bodies drew close.
The music was muted, as if coming in his ears through water as they swayed along. Nora had her eyes shyly turned towards the floor.
“Nora?”
She snapped to attention, nearly tripping them both up. “Yeah? What’s up Ren? Did I step on your feet? Sorry! I ca-”
“Nora,” Ren sighed. “Are you alright? You seem jumpier than usual and that is saying something.” He allowed himself a small reward, a tiny squeeze of her waist.
If she noticed his grip tighten she did not show it, her eyes once again downcast to the floor. “I think..I think I’m getting sick..or something.”
“What’s wrong?”
“ I’m not sure…” Her voice was uncertain, a tinge of a special quality her words took when they were false.
Nora was lying.
“Nora, please tell me. I’m worried.”
“I’m sorry..” She finally met his gaze, but it was not the usual blue that he saw.
It was green.