Drawn. (Hange x Reader) || Modern!AU/Soulmate!AU

For: trynxx 
Colour: Copper and Chesnut
Character: Hange

Genre: Fluff/slight comedy

Prompt / Quote / Song: sunsets. Just sunsets.

Additional Info: you can do canon universe for this but I wouldn't mind modern or soulmate au here either
Word Count: 852


Your morning consists of charcoal heels clicking on grey concrete, against backgrounds of pewter buildings and silver skies. Your friends that had met their soulmates told you about colours-- how each shade of grey had transformed into a vast array of hues, and everything became blindingly distinct.

It was a concept you couldn't quite grasp, no matter how much you squinted your eyes at the ground and tried to imagine each rock popping out at you like the cut-outs in storybooks you read as a child. Rocks were still grey, though, your friends had told you. They said to try looking at the plants instead.

Your normal commute to work involves a walk down the street to the bus stop, which you take until you reach your subway. Work is about two minutes from where you surface from the train. By then, you're in the middle of a bustling city filled with chatter and honking horns.

Every day, you pass by three things-- the group of old insurance workers taking an early smoke break, the beggar with his dog, and the girl with the chalk.

Even without colour, she sticks out like a sore thumb-- sketching lines across the sidewalk on all fours as people in suits walk around her and pay her no mind.

You hear others whispering around you-- her drawings are beautiful, but she uses all the wrong colours. She hasn't even met her soulmate, you hear, and though you don't know what the words mean at the time, sunsets shouldn't be green then pink then blue.

Every time you pass her, she looks up at you with chalk-dusted glasses, and smudges all over her clothes, hands, and hair.

She smiles at you, and you smile back.

You can't help but be intrigued by the peculiar girl, who hums strange songs and pays no cares to the world around her. She sits, focused on nothing but her artwork, and nobody in particular seems to mind it. She only stops to say hello to the occasional familiar passerby, or to wipe dust and sweat from her forehead.

You sigh, suitcase in hand as you look back at her, wondering when things changed and you were no longer this carefree. Her hair is messy like a child who has just returned from the playground, and her eyes dart around like a dog's chasing a squirrel. You've resigned to a life of typing away at a computer, reading report after report.

The sun is setting as you leave work today, but she's nowhere to be seen.



You pass by the insurance workers, and you pass by the beggar and his canine companion.

She isn't there today, either-- but in just a few minutes, you understand why.

On the side of your office building is the largest mural you've ever seen, lines of chalk streaking the plain walls. It's her sunset, and you recognize it, but there's something more-- two silhouettes running toward it.

Through the crowd comes familiar messy hair, and you just have to say something to her about it-- but she's coming straight at you with no sign of slowing down.

"H-hey, wai--"

It all happens in slow motion-- she trips, launching herself straight into your arms, and you brace for impact.

The first thing you see when you open your tightly-squeezed eyes is something you don't quite recognize. It's bright, and you're forced to close your eyes again as the resulting sight makes you dizzy.

No one told you that seeing colours for the first time would be such a shock to your system, but maybe it's because of the impact of the girl who just tackled you.

You sit up, brushing dust of all colours off your skirt, and look up with a gasp.

The mural is brighter than before, and you can't describe it-- you jump back because the colours pop out and nearly assault you with their energy, every shade blending flawlessly into the next. You rack your brain for the descriptions your friends gave each colour, but nothing comes to mind. You're simply stunned, and though it's your first time seeing colours, you instantly know how much the artwork stands out among everything else.

You turn to her,

"Y-you! You're my--"

"There she is! With the glasses!"

From across the plaza, you spot two policemen pointing at you.

"Shit, we have to go. I think I went a liiiittle too far this time."

She grabs your hand, and you kick off your heels. Running barefoot behind her, colours blurring your vision-- you can't help but laugh and feel exhilarated. 

The colour of her hair reminds you of the smells of late summer making its way into autumn-- of apples, grass, and the crisp air of late nights. Like the silvers you've seen before, it shines, though with a glow you'd never experienced before.

At once, she makes you feel like a child again, kicking through sunflower fields with the wind in your hair.

You squeeze her hand, determined to follow where she leads.

You'd love to see a sunset with her one day.