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Ever since he was little, Stiles had heard the stories of when his parents first met. He says stories as in plural because they changed ever so slightly depending on which of them told the story.
Some aspects stayed the same though. Like the fact that they, and everyone else, saw in black and white until they found each other. Or how that changed as soon as they made eye contact. His mother told him that the world exploded into color all at once. His father however expressed that the world filled in slowly around her. They both agreed that they were never able to leave without at least talking to the other.
Years have passed since then and Stiles has learned more about soulmates due in part to the various sources he poured over. Ok completely due to research. He still hasn’t found his and after what he recently found out he’s not sure he wants to. You see his mother died a few years ago and about a month ago his father told him what happens when your soul-mate dies. The color given by your mate slowly fades back to black and white.
Even so he’s attempted a few times.
Jackson, nothing. Felt stupid for trying.
Danny, not even a flicker. Sucks cause he’s hot and nice.
Lydia, he thought he saw a little bit of what his dad describe as red, but that might have been because she smacked him.
Heather, he tried in a dark cellar but nothing happened after so he doubted it.
Hell, even Scott, less than nothing. The white might have even dimmed a little.
Nothing.
The Scott attempt was the most recent. In fact it just happened. And now Stiles was lamenting at Scott as they took a “shortcut” through the woods to get home.
“I should face the facts Scott,” Stiles started. “I’m never going to find my soulmate. Although I suppose it wouldn’t be too terrible if it means the world won’t fade after they die.”
“You’re being ridiculous, Stiles,” Scott rebutted. “You’re only 17!”
“Everyone I fall for is wrong. Not a flicker from Danny. Lydia… smart, beautiful Lydia… nothing, nada, zip! Well not unless you count a bruise I didn’t think she had the strength to make. Hey, maybe I can start a soul-mate-less club?”
Stiles was about to continue when they heard a rustle from behind them. They both whipped around. Stiles was preparing a long speech for whoever it was when all words died on his tongue.
He decided his father was telling the truth about the gradually lightening.
“This is private property,” said the handsome man. Stiles could see the shiny black of his leather jacket and the faded dark blue of his jeans. As the man turned around Stiles could see the greens and yellows and browns of the trees. He could finally see the blues of the sky and clouds.
He turned to Scott.
“Dude, my soul-mate is freaking Derek Hale.”