- the one where you only see colour once you meet your soulmate
Len remembers his mom describing the sky to him. The sharp pigments that made up the morning sparkle. Len gave up the dream of seeing colour after his first nickel in Iron Heights. Being back in Central City was supposed to be a quick job - one to iron out the kinks for the bigger heist in Bludhaven next month.
He didn’t count on seeing a red streak.
- the one where you don’t know your soulmate until you touch them
Barry is running late to a crime scene. So late that even Captain Singh won’t believe whatever excuse Joe’s cooked up to stall for time. He’s ten blocks away and he can already feel his side cramping. He’s turning a corner when he collides with a wall of muscle. His CSI kit bag goes flying as a hand comes out of nowhere to steady his descent. Time skitters to a halt as the warm hand grips his right forearm where he didn’t have time to button up his shirt. His pulse wratches up as he feels the warmth expand.
Looking up, his eyes lock with a shocked man unseasonably attired in a blue parka.
- the one where you don’t know your soulmate until you hear them speak
Len is waiting for Lisa to finish her recon of STAR labs at a coffee shop. He’s already cased out the five escape routes and he’s wired enough to worry about why she’s running late.
“Coffee with cream and 37 sugars for Barry!” shouts the barista.
There’s a pause between the idle chatter of the coffee shop when a lanky brunet walks up to the coffee counter.
“Thanks, Iris,” the brunet grits out as he takes his coffee with a long suffering look that Len would commiserate with, he’s certainly had that look when dealing with whatever scheme Lisa has set her mind to, but the world seems to tilt on its own axis as the sounds around him dull and focus on the dulcet tenor of his soulmate.
- the one where you get the name of the person in their handwriting on your body somewhere at a certain age
Bartholomew Allen in blocky script has been a mainstay on Len’s right forearm since he was eighteen. It had Lisa in stitches.
“It’s worse than yours!” she cackles.
Leonard Snart in tightly cramped handwriting appeared above Barry’s heart when he was sixteen.
“At least he won’t make fun of your name,” Iris says with a dimpled grin.
Barry just groans like a beached whale.
- the one where the first thing they say to you appears instead
“There’s nowhere to run,” appeared in red crimson ink on Len’s wrist when he’s eighteen and in the backseat of a cop car on his way to lockup. He wasn’t surprised his soulmate was a fan of irony.
“I didn’t see you before, your mom know you’re out past your bedtime?” appeared in indigo ink wrapped around Barry’s shoulder blades when he was changing for gym class. Tony Woodward and his band of goons make his life miserable over it. Barry’s mom thinks it’s cute. And after the night where the man in the yellow suit takes everything Barry holds dear away, the indigo writing becomes even more pronounced. Like fate falling into place.