Daryl’s in his 30s and he starts to think he’s just gonna live his whole life in black and white, because a guy like him probably isn’t meant for a soulmate. (Never mind that Merle of all people actually had one, they don’t talk about that. They don’t talk about Carol. They don’t talk about how for two years, everything was in color for Merle and he got off drugs and went on the straight and even got a damn job. They don’t talk about how his past reared it’s ugly head and took her life in the process or how Merle almost overdosed a couple weeks later. He never, ever asks Merle what it was like for those two years to be able to see colors.)
Merle might have found his soulmate, but that was some kind of fluke for the Dixon brothers, and even if it wasn’t, well, look how that turned out. He figures maybe he’s better off seeing in black and white, it ain’t so bad, after all. But then one day he’s driving down the road in his bike and he sees some ratty old car pulled off to the side of the road with steam coming out of the hood. He almost doesn’t stop, but for some dumb reason he does (in his head he can hear his brother telling him that he’s always been the sweet one of the pair). Everything is fine until he comes up alongside the car and looks down into the window and suddenly the whole world tilts beneath his feet and spins like a kaleidoscope and when it rights itself, the colors are so brilliant that it makes his eyes ache and water.
Even through the blur of tears he can’t stop drinking in colors he doesn’t even know the right names for yet: the soft pale color of her hair, the brilliant bright color of her eyes, the pretty sweet shade of her lips that matches the surprised flush across her cheeks. He thinks there’s no way this can be real. Maybe he fell off his bike and hit his head, maybe he’s dreaming. A sudden sense of dread hits him as he questions: is this soul-mate thing ever one-sided? What if he’s looking at her with his eyes all full of color and she’s still staring in black and white, wondering what this rough, strange, dirty man is staring at her like this for? (Cause there’s no way that a girl like her, all sweet and pure and innocent looking, could have him as a soulmate, right?)
But then she rolls down her window and leans out a bit and the prettiest damn smile he’s ever seen curves up her lips as she says simply, “I have no idea what the name of the color of your eyes is, but I think they’re just about the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.”
He’s still bewildered when she sticks out her hand and offers to shake, but he manages to respond with a gruff ‘Daryl’ when she says her name is Beth. He’s so overwhelmed he almost feels dizzy but somehow, when she ends up on his bike ten minutes later with her arms around her waist, it just seems right.
Just as right as it seems when instead of looking for an auto shop or even trying to take her home, they just spend the day driving, basking in all the colors that neither of them seem to need name for beyond perfect and gorgeous and beautiful.
(Those are all the words he uses for her colors, too.)
She saw the Shichibukai walks toward her when suddenly her feet stopped touching the floor a short ‘ah’ of surprise escapes from her lips and automatically she wraps around his neck. Taken by surprise, Robin stared at the Law’s embarrassed face and smiled funny. “You say this, but your expression is tense. Is it because of me or Kaidou? Fufufu”. They start to move and the woman can’t imagine where he was taking her. Maybe throw it off the ship after that little joke. “Where are you taking me, Tra-guy-kun?”
Nico-ya was— cool. He had expected her to freak out, with reason, but to his surprise, she had merely played along. That was good. If she had started fussing and screaming in his ear, he would probably have dropped her on the spot. He didn’t take too kindly to anyone shouting within close vicinities of himself unless there was cause for alarm or the threat of danger.
With her wrapping her arms around his shoulders for support— which may have sent goosebumps prickling the back of his neck but alas, no need to make a big deal out of it— she’d commented about how he was looking rather… tensed. How observant of her. He didn’t know what he ought to reply to that, and so he stayed silent, racking his brains to come up with an answer. Kaidou, or her? Both answers were unacceptable. Moreover, she had giggled, amused by his suffering. That, too, was good. At least one of them was having a fun time.
“This is my resting face,” was the answer he settled for, and he wasn’t wrong. His face was most often in various degrees of tenseness.
As for where they were headed, he hadn’t had the time to think about that. “For a walk,” he replied dumbly as if that wasn’t obvious at all. “Where do you want to go, Nico-ya?”