Secret

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"The secret to retrieving colours is to find your soulmate, Sherlock." His grandmother wheezed in her tight yet kind voice.
"Really?" Sherlock said disbelievingly "but... what if I don't want to have a soulmate?"
"Oh, Sherlock," she started as she reached up to touch his mess of dark brown curls, "you will when you meet her."

But sherlock knew there and then that he was never going to find that girl.
He didn't like girls.
He had never told anyone this, for fear of losing people. He thought that if he was to tell his parents, they would disown him.
He had decided at the age of eight that he wouldn't fall for anyone. Hassle free. He could just get on with his experiments.

He would never find a soulmate.
He would never see in colour.
He would never be the boy he was.
The boy who would roll in the snow all day in winter, his pale skin almost camouflaging himself in the fluffy white substance, if not for his hair.
He would never experience the bright hues that love offers.

He would just be... ordinary.

Grey.

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