"Yuki-san, why don't you use red for any of your designs?" Yuki's grip on his pencil loosened when one of his assistants suddenly asked him this, he froze in place. He hated red. It was beyond unprofessional of him to exclude a color just because of a personal issue but he couldn't help it. Yuki cleared his throat and faced his assistant, "Stop asking such questions, go back to work." he coldly brushed the assistant off.
Memories began to resurface inside Yuki's thoughts— memories of you. He's been able to see the red strings connecting people ever since he was a child, not knowing what it actually meant until someone told him about "The Red String of Fate". He thought it was stupid, there's a person out there that's meant for him? Pfft— he guessed that he's never going to meet them in this lifetime, he wouldn't go through such lengths just to find them either.
When he met you, he fell in love. He never meant to— he knew that your string wasn't connected to his yet he couldn't stop his heart and its desires. He thought about you day and night, staring at the string tied to his pinky, wishing that it was connected to you instead but— Fate wasn't so nice to him. Out of all the people in the world, you managed to find the one who was meant for you. Your soulmate.
Yuki's world became dull when you introduced your lover to him, your arm wrapped around theirs— the red string tied to your pinkies, connected. He never wanted to get his hands on his pair of scissors and just snap that red thread. Countless times, with a pair of scissors in hand, he wanted to do it.
Then he thought of you, your happy expression— so in love with your lover. It never fails to bring him back to his senses and drop his scissors. He loved you, he didn't want your love to turn into a tragedy. Instead, he picked up his scissors once more and grabbed his own red string—
Snap.
He hated seeing red, but maybe in time, he'll learn how to come into terms with reality. Red would always invade his life, whether he liked it or not— he could still see other people's red strings. And of course— yours too.
Yuki's grip on his pencil tightened, his gaze falling onto his pinky— the red string wasn't there anymore.
