A/N: Inspiration for this came from Elly_belly's fic Color on ao3, which you should totally check out if you haven't already. This is just my take on the idea. All credit goes to them!

This turned out a bit more angsty than I originally planned, but oh well.

There are rumors of the existence of colors. Though most people see the world in the customary shades of gray, there are stories of those who can see what no one else can. As the tales go, all you have to do is hear your soulmate speak your name, and suddenly everything springs into glorious color.

Even as a young girl, Carmilla couldn't quite believe these rumors, no matter how much she wanted to. Beside the dubious nature of the actuality of "colors", which no one seemed to be able to fully explain or describe, there was also the issue of the soulmate. The idea of there being another soul to which yours was a perfect match seemed a bit too fantastic to be true.

How wrong she was.

She had been on this earth for almost two centuries – two centuries full of blacks and whites and grays. And now again, like countless times before, she was playing out the same story – a carriage wreck, a girl too kind for her own good, an offer of shelter. Carmilla was certain it would end just the same as well.

Then it happened. It was a few days after her arrival, and Carmilla was just emerging from her room at her customary late hour. She descended the stairs and walked into the little drawing room Ell and her father usually used in the morning. Expecting to find them sitting at the table, just finishing their tea, she was puzzled when she was greeted with an empty room.

She stepped further inside and looked about her. "Hello?" she called.

"Oh, Carmilla, is that you?" Ell's clear voice came from down the hall. "We're in the front room, the view outside is lovely today and the windows in there are just too small…"

But Carmilla heard nothing beyond her own name, for suddenly the entire world had changed. It was bright, it was vibrant, it… these must be colors. She gazed about the room in awe, her mind somehow supplying her with names to hues she had never seen before. That chair was red, and over there, that vase of pine boughs, those were green… It was breathtaking.

Carmilla snapped out of her reverie as she heard Ell's voice call her again. "Carmilla?"

"Yes, darling girl, I'm here," she answered, her voice trembling slightly. "Will you come join me for a moment?"

She heard Ell's small footsteps come into the hall, and her still heart clenched in anticipation – and also fear. What if she said Ell's name and the other girl didn't see the colors as well? What if she did?

At last, Ell rounded the corner of the doorway, and Carmilla gasped. She was beautiful. Her hair was a bright blonde, her eyes a shade of blue that, although she was just seeing it for the first time, Carmilla was certain she would never encounter again. She could tell the exact difference shade between Ell's hair and her eyebrows, which were currently drawn in concern.

"Ell," Carmilla breathed, and watched as the brows fell and full pink lips parted in wonder. Ell's eyes flew around the room, unable to look at one thing for long before another color drew them away, before finally fixing back on Carmilla's face.

"Carmilla," she said, her voice low. "Do you… Do you see…?"

Carmilla beamed, unable to keep the joy off her face. "I do," she replied.

Ell bounded forward and Carmilla caught her, spinning her around once before setting her down. She reached up to Ell's face, needing to touch the colors she could now see.

"Blue," she murmured, tracing the corners of Ell's eyes.

"Red," Ell whispered, her thumb ghosting over Carmilla's lower lip.

Carmilla smoothed her fingers over Ell's cheekbones and back into her hair.

"Beautiful," she said, drawing Ell closer to her.

"Beautiful," Ell echoed, just before their lips met, and all the colors of the world exploded behind Carmilla's eyelids.

As they drew apart, Carmilla knew everything was going to be different now. She would make sure it was. She would not let Mother take Ell away from her. They would run away together and spend the rest of their lives reveling in the color they had revealed to each other. Carmilla was certain this time would not end like the others.

How wrong she was.

Carmilla flinched away from Ell's eyes, away from the blue she loved so well, now distorted by fear and hate.

"Monster!" those sweet pink lips cried, and Carmilla felt it like a slap.

"Ell, please, let me explain…" she wept, unable to bear the sight of that blonde head turned away from her. Turned towards her mother.

Carmilla should have known Mother would find out. Should have known that she could never escape, never have something as precious and good as Ell while Maman had her in her grip.

She was forced into chains, forced to lie in the deep stone coffin, forced to watch as Maman sank her teeth into Ell's neck above her.

Ell cried out, and her blood was red – too red. It poured from her neck, splashing onto Carmilla and flooding the coffin with a red so deep it was almost black.

And then, with a last choking sob, it was. No hint of pigment remained to remind Carmilla of the beautiful life it had once held.

And so Carmilla learned of the second part of the tale. The part that describes what happens if your soulmate dies.

Carmilla screamed.

Seventy years in a box is a long time to reflect on the past. As the years went by, Carmilla began to forget colors. She remembered they existed, of course, but could no longer recall quite what they looked like. She didn't know which would be worse – not being able to picture Ell's clear blue eyes, or having to remember in exact detail the way they clouded with fear when the girl learned what she was.

Not that it mattered, down in the darkness of her prison-grave. There was no light to even see by. There was only blackness, and sorrow, and the sound of Ell's dying gasp.

When she escaped, Carmilla did her best to bury the memories of that girl, to leave her behind with the colorless remains of her long-dried blood. It became harder when Mother finally found her, but she did her best to focus on her small revenges, and not allow the thought of smooth golden hair distract her from the girls at hand. She did not allow herself to think about what color the eyes of the girls she saved would have been, or what shade of red would show in the blood of those she couldn't.

In those intervening years the game had changed, but so had Carmilla. Instead of relying on the girls' temperaments to see the story through, Carmilla had to depend on herself. She taught herself how to be whomever she needed to be – sultry, snappish, sinister – whatever would get the girls to do what she wanted, whether that be chasing them away or ultimately giving in to Mother's wishes. She was certain that now she could control herself, tamp down her emotions and never let anything like Ell happen again.

How wrong she was.

Laura came into her life like one of her forgone carriage wrecks, tiny, but full of passion and fire. Of course they didn't get along – Carmilla carefully crafted her personality to jar against Laura's at every possible point. She was certain this story would end just the way she wanted, with Laura running for the hills.

Then it happened. She was lounging in bed, reading a book and minding her own business, when Laura's sharp voice came from the bathroom. "Carmilla! Would it seriously kill you to clean your hair out of the shower drain?!"

But Carmilla didn't hear a word after her own name. She gasped, rigid in shock, as for the second time in her afterlife the room around her bloomed into color. Over on the desk, the blue of Laura's silly mug, and on her bed, was her pillow really yellow?

Laura came back out of the bathroom and stood in the doorway, her arms folded across her chest and her foot tapping. "Hello? Did you hear me?"

All Carmilla could do was stare. She had of course noticed it before, but now she was struck with the full realization of Laura's beauty. Her lovely light brown hair fell in waves over her shoulders, framing her flushed pink cheeks and beautiful brown eyes, which were currently narrowed at Carmilla in anger.

Realizing she had been silent for far too long, Carmilla quickly rose and grabbed her backpack, stuffing her book inside.

"Sorry, cutie, I'm in a rush. Gotta be anywhere but here," she drawled, knowing it would push Laura's buttons. Sure enough, she heard the girl's frustrated groan from behind her as she exited the room.

As soon as the door closed, Carmilla dematerialized into a cloud of smoke, reappearing on the roof of the library. It was one of her favorite places to think. For the first time, as she gazed out onto the quad below, she saw the green of the grass and the red of the surrounding buildings, muted though they were by the moonlight.

But instead of filling her with awe, as the colors had the first time she had seen them, now all she felt was dread. It was happening again – it was Ell all over. But how? How was it possible? Could one person's soul be a match for more than one other? Her inner philosopher wanted to waste the night away, contemplating all the ramifications this could have. At the same time, her inner pragmatist was screaming at her to run, run while she still could, before history had the chance to repeat itself.

But her, her deepest self, the young human girl she thought she had locked away centuries ago, wanted to go straight back to that room and protect her newfound match. She wanted to take her in her arms and shield her from harm.

Carmilla knew she couldn't – at least, not like that. But she would do everything in her power to defend the tiny girl who was somehow connected to her soul. She would do it from afar, keeping up the act, pushing and prodding until Laura was safely away from Silas – and from Mother's grasp.

And, most importantly, she would never, ever say Laura's name. Although it pained her to keep the beauty of the colors away from the girl, Carmilla knew that if Laura ever realized what they were, Maman wouldn't be far behind.

Carmilla would not lose another love – she couldn't.

Her mind resolved, she transported herself back into the dorm, just outside her and Laura's room. She carefully pushed open the door and peeked inside, half disappointed and half relieved to find the room empty. Her roommate was probably complaining to the floor don about her. Good. That served her plan perfectly well.

Carmilla crossed to Laura's bed and say down, letting her eyes roam over the other girl's belongings, taking in their bright, warm hues. She picked up Laura's pillow and held it in her lap, smiling slightly as she considered the shockingly yellow color. It fit Laura so well – so bright, so vibrant – although the girl couldn't possibly know the perfect color she had picked. To her it would seem just like the many other grays that surrounded her, the only color she was able to see.

Carmilla brought the pillow to her face, pressing it against her lips, hoping to sooth the ache that was Laura's name trying to escape.