#despite having almost zero interaction they will always be soulmates!!

[sparkinajar]

More Kousano to cope in these trying times! Fun fact, Red Wine Supernova was on loop while I was drawing this and now I won't be able to listen to it for a week.

[tinkerbelldetective]

You're still not sure how this works. You're 99% sure Rafael Barba is your soulmate, but the clock hasn't hit zero. You've met him, talked to him, and slid papers under his door for him to almost step on in the mornings or retrieve on late nights. But if the clock is still ticking, then you haven't met them, right? So, why do you feel safer when he's close by?

It's confusing. And you have no time for confusion about anything. Jack has delegated you second chair, one you are happy to accept. The case load is growing, the indictments issued flying from the clerk's office with increasing speed. You're issuing subpoenas left and right, searching records that go back so far you think you may have found the mythical lost pen an intern took from Paul Robinette because they were too chicken to ask him out so they settled for something he touched (or so you heard).

And Barba has hardly looked at you.

Olivia Benson had reassured you it was because the man is fiercely independent, not because he thought little of you. And while it helped, you couldn't help but grow saddened and irritated by the fact every interaction you shared with him was passing papers while he barely spared a glance.

The record in front of you is the biggest find yet. Unshredded and non-digitized remands. You're not sure how long you've been in this dusty old room, but it's worth it. You hop over the file boxes- you'll be back to fix them soon - and rush upstairs, aware you probably look like you've been crawling underneath a bed in a messy room, but this is it. The clincher. And you don't even care if he sees you looking dishelved, because this file is the red bow, the Michael Cutter homerun swing.

There's no dignity as you cross the threshold of his office, his brows raising as he pours his cup of coffee, your hands holding the file with such a tight grip he wonders how you haven't bent the folder.

"Rafael Barba, may I present four different remands and secret indictments. Done under suspicious circumstances and-" you flip through the file, finding the bright pink post it, "the other dismissed without prejudice."

The room slows, his eyes meeting yours with intensity. The clock on your wrist hits zero with an echoed final tock. You take a step closer, fiddling with the random thread on your sweater.

"I hoped it would be you."

He's quiet, placing his cup on the table before he takes the file out of your hands, fingers gently resting on your wrist, wordlessly asking for consent. You nod, watching with bated breath as he pushes the sleeve up just enough to see the fading clock.

"She always said it was the first time they see you not the first time you look," he murmers, thumb caressing your skin.

*

Barba's watching intently when you approach the stand, the evidence you either found or helped lead the way to balanced eaily in your hands despite the amount. The room grows quiet as you lay the receipts, the texts, fax confirmations, and signed agreements in front of the man on the stand.

"You weren't going to say this was a one-time deal, were you?"

*

Barba's hand lands at the small of your back as you descend the steps.

"Rafael," you begin, his first name foreign on your lips, "can I see your wrist?"

"It's zero."

You wrinkle your nose, halting at the bottom step.

"How long?"

"The day you met me."

"And mine just stopped?"

He frowns, removing his hand from your back to face you.

"Your dedication to justice, your determination, those became clear the minute you spent hours doing what someone else could have been doing. I saw you, and I knew." His hand cups your cheek fondly, brown eyes meeting yours, as if asking for permission. He presses his forehead to yours, lips barely grazing your own.

[mxrcayong]

Hi!! Can I request a soulmate au with Winwin please 😊? You don’t have to write it if you don’t want to. Thank you so much, and I hope you’re having a wonderful day! 💜

hi love <3 i’d love to write it haha i hope you’re having a wonderful day as well <3 i didn’t know which soulmate au you’d like so i just kinda randomly chose it and i hope its okay  😊 if it’s not what you’d like, feel free to send a message or another request and i’ll re-do it  💜 💜 💜 + sorry for the wait!! i hope this does your request justice x

soulmate au prompt: Every so often you will get flashes of what your soulmate is seeing at the time, however your soulmate does not know when it happens AND You have a clock that counts down until you first talk to your soulmate.

Growing up, you’ve been told that there are only two ways that the “most important person in your whole life” will be ageing with you (until you meet them of course). The first one being the clock on your wrist; something that looks like a faded tattoo, counting down every minute. It’s considered a gift from the higher aboves when you turn the age you will meet your soulmate. The second one being your sight; every year on your birthday - even before gifted with the countdown, you get a glimpse of their day - temporarily seeing what they see. 

You’ve never been a fan of the idea of soulmates - it felt too simplistic. Someone else cannot simply complete you - right? They cannot complete you as much as people say they do, at least. It’s hard to believe someone completes you so much you get their vision temporarily or that your whole body counts down too meeting them. However, part of you only is questioning the whole idea of soulmates - this part fueled by the sight you see everyday. 

Out of everyone you knew, you got the countdown clock the latest. Your temporary visions were always the most out there or tame that you always believed them to be a dream. From seeing the adoring fans you see on stage to the empty practice room, those are the only minute visions you’ve been seeing for the last three years. 

You used to think you had no soulmate, until a few months ago on your last birthday. A faded black mark appeared on your wrist; but it was the highest number you’ve seen in your city. 

All your friends who had countdowns on their wrists seemed to meet their soulmate within a month or two; bumping into them on the street or finally saying ‘hello’ after months of walking past them on the crowded roads, just two people living through life - unaware of their importance to each other. 

“Babe,” Your co-worker Amelie chuckled as she turned away from the counter to talk to you, who was currently making another vanilla frap and caramel latte from the couple who just walked in. “You know, your time is running up. How many hours left until you meet them?” She had noticed how you went quiet after she talked about meeting her soulmate the other day.  

You refused to look at the clock that haunts your everyday. “I rather not check.” This isn’t only to avoid the painful reminder of the time you have to wait, but ever since your hatred for your own countdown existed - you started questioning if soulmate clocks and visions are beneficial. Isn’t part of dating and meeting people dating random people? 

You can’t lie and say that everyone in town waits for their soulmate. You, yourself, had dated a few people - knowing it wasn’t going to last, but hoping it would. But it didn’t feel right - it never felt like how her family described being in love. Your father always said being with your soulmate feels like you’re ‘completed’, like if you die right now - you’d be ‘satisfied’. A feeling of eternal bliss and satisfaction, her aunt said before clarifying the bliss and satisfaction comes from the reduced feeling of worries for the future. 

“You know, you’ll find them some day.” Amelie sighed, turning to make the next cup of coffee for the newest customer. “Like, you know they’re out there - look at your clock. That’d be a sudden zero or not there if they weren’t.” 

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It’s been over 9 months now since your last birthday and you’ve given up on your countdown. Endless waiting and constant checking has barely done you any good - so, three months ago, you’ve worn a series of bracelets over the cursed countdown. 

Despite your proclaimed hatred for this soulmate you’ve barely met; you can’t stop wondering what they’d be like, your dreams piecing along all the visions and facts you’ve known about him. You dreamed he had kind eyes and a loving heart, someone who’d go out of his way to love you. 

But then you’d always wake up alone. It’s not like your purpose surrounds them - but in this universe, where everyone seems to scream from the rooftops about the importance of loving your soulmate - you’re stuck. 

It doesn’t help the cafe you work at is called ‘red string cafe’. Your boss came from a certain province in China and therefore, his countdown clock was replaced with the concept of the red string of fate. He would close his eyes and see the string and where it leads. He knew he met the love of his life, and your other boss, when the string was only a meter along and led him to her. 

Additionally, ‘red string cafe’ was a nod to the fact so many couples have met in this busting coffee shop. There used to be a deal where if you had just met your soulmate in the coffee shop, then you get free coffee. But they started handing out free coffee to everyone at least once. So, now, they just have one full wall full of photos of the couples who have found their destiny in the cafe. 

You felt like that was just a way of the universe mocking you. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a late day at the cafe. Part of you regretted offering to take up Amelie’s hours as she plans her wedding, but what are friends for? 

Ian - a coworker you’ve interacted with only five times before this evening - had fallen asleep on the counter. He was committed to his soulmate Carter for the last three years after meeting at this cafe. The day after meeting him, Ian signed up to work here - believing this place is a place of destiny. But it was obvious Ian didn’t think that anymore as his head rested on the cash register, waiting for any new customers to join the few night owls who are typing away at their laptops. 

You were cleaning the dishes - not wanting to wake Ian, especially as the two of you were talking absolute nonsense prior to him falling asleep. Talking about the newest TV show coming out to giving each of the customers present background stories in hushed whispers. 

Suddenly, a chime made Ian fall to the floor - a sign of a new customer...well, customers. You laughed at Ian’s predicament - quickly helping him up from his spot sprawled over the tiled floor. 

“Hello! Welcome to the red string cafe, where we hope you find your perfect match of coffee.” Ian said the usual greeting they say to customers that look new to the store, while you cringed as you start putting seven mugs closer to the coffee machine - preparing for their order. It was a small local cafe - so regulars are the biggest customer base. New people at the store have been hard to come by, especially due to the time of year of exam finals. “How can we help you today?” They quickly ordered; 2 iced coffees, 1 hot chocolate, 3 frappuccinos, and 1 americano. “Feel free to take a seat and we’ll bring the drinks to you.”

As soon as the boys took a seat at the booth in the far corner, Ian turned around and joined you in making the drinks. “I bet you they’re jetlagged and they’re...” Ian started thinking of a fun job, “international secret spies sent to the cafe to spy on the patrons as one person here has the secret to fixing the world.” 

You rolled your eyes, continuing to make one of the drinks. “I bet you they were sent from the future to come and tell a patron here of their destiny, because right now, they’re writing a proposal on how coffee can save the world.” 

“Nah, I like mine better.” Ian jokingly shrugged, putting down the drinks on the tray. “You bring it to them please, I think permanently injured my knee.” 

You, again, rolled your eyes and groaned. “You big baby.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kind eyes. Loving heart. 

I guess your dreams have come true. 

A year since that encounter, you’ve moved homes and your whole life changed. 

The timid boy who ordered an iced coffee and accidentally bumped into you on his way to the bathroom, almost spilling the tray before he helped stabilise it, had been your soulmate. 

They were right. When you look into the eyes of your soulmate and when you’re together, any future preoccupations are gone. It feels like you’re completed; a puzzle that took years to finish, but finished nevertheless. 

The visions from your birthday were right; you saw the thousands of adoring fans cheer in front of your soulmate, begging for an encore after encore after encore. But the night was over and they’re out of songs. 

As soon as the group ran backstage, Winwin tackled you into a hug - spinning you around. You ignored the feeling of sweat that accumulated from the performance; a feeling of warmth and love spread from the inside of your body.  

“Let’s go home.” He smiled, whispering in your ear, still hugging you tightly. It was the last day of the WayV tour and they finished back where they started; home. “I cannot wait to spend all night with you.” He smiled sweetly. 

“Over iced coffee?” You teased, pinching his cheek. 

“I’ll make it this time.” He smiled.

Yes, the wait was long and tedious. Yes, the wait made you feel as if you never had a soulmate to begin with. 

But it was so worth it. Because you’ve never felt as loved and at home and at peace as you did with Sicheng. 

[vipclifford]

Wildflower - Chapter 2

here’s the previous chapter

Soulmate AU where things in your life appear as flowers tattooed on your skin, each with their own meaning.

Calum inspected his newly acquired bloom in the mirror the next morning. It was small in size, which was good despite the fact that the bright blue petals made his skin look bruised. He rubbed frustratedly at the flower in hopes to make it go away, but that only made the petunia stand out more against his reddened skin. His actions were futile and he knew it. He pulled his shirt down in anger before storming out of the bathroom, unwilling to stare at the reflection of a cursed man a second longer.

He hated the fact that a stranger he had met twice had managed to mark his skin with such ease. He hated the fact that of all people, Calum was forced to associate his bloom with Rory, the girl he could only describe as a bitch. Because she was a bitch. He hated the fact that his body now housed two undesirable blooms.

Duke’s paws padded against the wooden floorboards as he made his way over to Calum, nudging his dad’s calf with his furry head to remind him that it was time for his daily walk. He crouched down to stroke the dog’s head, a gentle smile tugging at his lips for the first time that day. A walk could do them good.

The park was busier than usual, presumably to do with the fact that a small Christmas market had established itself there for the duration of the month. The smell of cinnamon and chocolate lured Calum closer to the stands that each year he fought hard to avoid. Maybe it was because he missed home, but Calum was always reluctant to embrace the wintertime Christmas culture. It made him feel like he was losing the person he used to be.

Calum remembers his first Christmas away from home.

He was staying in London with his four best friends, excitement in their eyes as they watched snowflakes fall for the first time in their lives. Christmas carols were playing in the background to get them in the yuletide mood; the roast dinner smelled amazing and multiple gifts were tucked neatly beneath the Christmas tree.

But everything felt so wrong to Calum as he sat down to eat his dinner. The fact that the sun had set at 4pm and that the temperature outside was below zero felt wrong. The fact that his usual barbecue had been replaced by a roasted chicken felt wrong. The fact that he was trapped inside a thick jumper when Calum was used to spending a shirtless day by the pool also felt wrong. All he could think about was his family, spending Christmas day in the sun as God intended. And it was that very day, at that very dinner table, that Calum bloomed a sprig of golden wattle on his forearm. The spirit of the Australian people.

He wrapped his coat tighter around his torso as he searched the makeshift aisles for the hot chocolate stand. The market was filled to the brim with children running around, racing each other to see who could reach the small grotto first to meet Santa. Calum smiled to himself as he noticed the excitement on their faces, ecstatic to meet the man who supposedly left them gifts every year.

The smell of chocolate became stronger and stronger with every step he took until Calum was finally standing in front of the place he was looking for. The hot chocolate stand.

“Hi Calum,” said the person he least wanted to see at that moment, standing across the wooden counter with a small smile on her lips. Rory.

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the odds of meeting her here. “What can I get you?”

“Medium hot chocolate,” he grumbled.

Calum stared at the ground as she prepared his drink, hoping to minimise their interaction as much as possible. She placed his drink on the counter but when he went to grab it, Rory pulled it away from his grasp. “Can I help you?” he muttered in confusion at her antics.

“It’s on the house if we could have a quick chat,” Rory said somewhat hopefully.

Calum pulled out the money that was due from his wallet and placed it upon the counter, pushing it slightly towards her with an unamused expression. “In that case, I’m even more inclined to pay.”

“In that case, I’m not giving you a choice. We’re having a chat,” Rory told him with determination, pushing the five dollar bill back towards him. She told her coworker she was talking her break before leaving from the side of the stall, Calum’s hot chocolate gripped between her fingers.

Calum released a frustrated sigh as he tucked the green note back into his wallet before following behind her. His hands scrunched up into fists as he thought about things he hated. Rory, the fact that he was following Rory like a whipped fool and Michael for indirectly putting him in this situation in the first place.

She sat down at a bench and waited for him to join her before speaking.

“I think I should apologise for whatever happened last night. I don’t actually know what you bloomed but you’re clearly pissed off at me so I wanted to say sorry,” Rory explained, watching as Calum unhooked the leash from Duke’s collar to let the dog run around freely. “I’m sorry.”

Calum took a long sip of his drink and fuck did it taste as good as it smelled. Rory took his silence as a hint that he still didn’t want to talk.

“You were right, you know? I was never validated as a child. Mommy never complimented my drawings. Daddy never came to any of my ballet recitals. But I wasn’t bullied for my bra size, thank you very much. I was bullied for the yellow carnations on my back.” Disappointment. The universe had deemed her a disappointment and Calum was feeling sorry for himself because of the small petunia on his hip. Calum’s angry bloom suddenly didn’t seem so bad. “So yeah, I’ve got an inferiority complex and I’m a bitch. But I’m a bitch that’s sorry.”

“I don’t need your apology,” he mocked, keeping a straight face. “Your words can’t change what happened, they do literally nothing to help me.” Calum held back a teasing smile when he saw Rory roll her eyes playfully from the corner of his.

“Touché,” she commended, tightening her ponytail. “What did you bloom?”

“Why do you work at the Christmas market?”

“I’m volunteering.”

“How selfless of you,” Calum nodded, not quite expecting that response from Rory. Duke ran back towards the bench and hopped onto Calum’s lap, muddy paws dirtying his jeans. “Fucking hell, Duke,” he sighed, placing his drink beside him before lowering Duke onto the ground. He grimaced at the sight of his trousers, hands trying to wipe the dirt off of his jeans.

“He’s a good boy,” Rory remarked with a playful tone, watching Calum hook the leash back onto Duke’s collar.

“The goodest boy,” he affirmed, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He picked up his drink as he stood up, holding it out in the air to draw Rory’s attention to the cup. “So, we’re good? I don’t owe you anything?”

Rory shook her head, tucking her hands into the pockets of her coat as she stood up. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“Happy New Year!” greeted Calum as he let the friends of his friends flood into his home, ready to drink into the next year with semi-familiar faces.

Calum was hosting the New Years Eve party this year with his roommate Roy. Over the past three years, Calum and his band mates had taken turns throwing the annual celebration and this time the responsibility had fallen onto his lap. Calum didn’t mind though. New Year’s Eve felt the same wherever he was in the world, and Calum wasn’t one to turn down any excuse to party.

The speakers blasted classics through the decades, bouncing from one hit to the next for hours on end. LEDs lit the apartment in colours ranging from red to green to blue as he bounced to the rhythm of the music with his friends.

“I’m going out for a smoke,” he told Luke who shook his head incredulously at him, lips tilting upwards when his tipsy boyfriend began pressing kisses to his cheek.

“Weren’t you going to quit?” Luke yelled over the music, arms wrapping around Adrian’s neck to pull him closer. And then they were kissing, lost in their own little world before Calum got a chance to reply.

A small part of Calum envied them. He envied the forget-me-nots that covered the skin of Luke’s shoulder blade, matching the ones on Adrian’s hand. He envied the way they held each other softly, lovingly, like the only thing that mattered to them in that moment was the man in their arms. Calum longed to feel that way about someone. He yearned to have what they had.

Roy yelled that there were fifteen seconds left until midnight, turning down the music to let his voice be heard, and soon enough the whole apartment was counting down the remaining seconds. Calum was glad Roy had interrupted his envious thoughts before a jealous hydrangea bloomed on his forehead.

Excitement bubbled in Calum’s chest as he thought of the year ahead, happy that at least he’d be starting it off right; drunk and surrounded by all of his friends.

So much can change in a year.

His eyes met Rory’s across the room as they pronounced the last number and the clock struck twelve. Surrounding couples joined their lips together while the rest of the room erupted into cheers. It was only when Luke and Adrian wrapped their arms around him, excitedly yelling ‘Happy New Year!’, did Calum come out of his daze.

“Happy New Year guys, I love you,” Calum grinned, embracing his two friends back. He playfully rolled his eyes as they mocked his words of affection before going to find his other friends to wish them the same thing.

“You came,” he noted, somewhat surprised when he found Rory up on the roof terrace, leaning on the metallic railing beside her. She gave him a quick nod while she blew out a cloud of smoke.

“Michael invited me. You don’t mind, right?” Calum shook his head, hand reaching out to grab the cigarette she offered him.

“It’s New Years, anyone is welcome here tonight,” he smiled softly before taking a drag. “Happy New Year, by the way.”

“Happy New Year,” Rory repeated as she reclaimed the cigarette, fingers almost brushing against his during the exchange. Almost. “Any resolutions?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” he shrugged, brows furrowing when he heard the music turn off downstairs. “Excuse me,” Calum muttered as he made his way back down to the party.

Everyone appeared annoyed despite their inebriated state, trudging their legs towards the front door. Calum pushed past his guests to reach the front of the crowd, finding a policeman standing menacingly beneath the doorway.

Sounds about right, he thought.

Calum felt helpless as he watched his friends flood out of his home. His neighbours just had to file enough noise complaints to shut his party down, one hour into New Year’s day. They just had to ruin his first glimpse at the new year, tainting the months ahead with a feeling of dread. If the first hour had been bad, Calum didn’t want to know what else was coming his way.

He eventually walked back into his living room, confused when he saw Rory frantically searching for something around the room. Calum leaned against the door frame, watching her with an intrigued expression. “You alright?” Calum questioned, turning on the normal lights to brighten up the place.

“I can’t find my fucking jacket,” she complained as she retraced her steps a third time. “Both my phone and my keys are in there.”

Calum looked around the apartment with Rory for wherever it could’ve been misplaced, the pair of them ending up empty handed.

“I’ll ask around, it should turn up tomorrow if anyone’s got it. Do you have a way to get back home? Or to get in?”

“Uh, yeah, I live around six blocks from here and I’ve got a key tucked into a top secret hiding spot just in case. So, uh, see you next time.”

“I’m walking you home,” Calum stated, already making his way to the hallway where he could grab his coat and keys. Rory chased behind him speaking words of disapproval, telling him over and over that she would be fine on her own, that she didn’t need him to protect her. “You can’t change my mind, Rory,” Calum said pointedly, opening the front door. “I’m walking you home.”

“At least make me a hot chocolate for the road.”

They found themselves in his kitchen a few minutes later, countertops filled with spilt whiskey and empty beer cans. Rory managed to find a clean spot she could hoist herself onto as Calum carefully read the instructions at the back of the packaging. His curls covered his forehead, trying their hardest to reach his eyes but failing.

“Did you forget how to make it, or what?” Rory teased.

“I just want to get it right.”

A warm mug of hot chocolate eventually made its way into Rory’s hands who hummed in delight after the first sip.

“Task completed successfully.”

There was an air of awkwardness surrounding the pair as they walked down the barely lit streets, sodium lampposts painting what little they saw around them yellow. Music could be heard from the windows of apartments nearby and Calum did all but curse their neighbours for not getting their parties shut down as well.

“I think that my New Year resolution is to work out more,” said Calum, answering the question she posed at the rooftop in hopes to interrupt the silence.

“That’s such a shit resolution,” Rory snorted with a soft shake to her head. “It’s up there with quitting chocolate and procrastination. It’s the kind of standard goal that boring people set themselves because they have no true aspirations.” Calum rolled his eyes playfully at her words, kicking the can that was resting in his path.

“What does an interesting person like you choose for their New Years resolution, then? I need inspiration since apparently I’m so boring.”

“Can’t tell you or else it won’t come true,” she shrugged, tone nonchalant.

“It’s not a birthday wish,” he said incredulously, concentrating on not letting Rory kick the metallic can away from him. “Or are you too ashamed to admit that you’re boring too?”

“I guess we’ll never know,” she replied, a mischievous smile on her lips once she finally managed to kick the can onto the parallel road.

Calum was forced to face the adjacent door to Rory’s apartment once they reached it, not allowed to find out where she kept hidden her secret key.

The place was small, though it was also the perfect size for a person living alone. Paintings of flower-covered skin filled every inch of her walls. The colourful petals looked vibrant against drawings of shoulders and ribcages, standing out beautifully against flesh of different tones. Calum took a few fascinated steps closer to study the artwork, astounded by the realism and detail.

“You’re an artist?” Calum asked, turning his head away from the wildflowers on the wall.

“Aspiring artist,” clarified Rory, stepping towards the windows to close the curtains. “I work at a tattoo parlour though, so I still get to produce art in a way. On people, not canvases, but we’ll get there one day.”

“I’m sure you will,” Calum hummed, knowing from experience that if you really want something, it will happen. Or perhaps he was just lucky. “You’re really talented.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, throwing her hair over the chrysanthemums on her shoulder. Calum nodded politely as he took a few steps back towards the open front door. “I think I better get going.”

“Why did you walk me home?”

“What do you mean?” he questioned with a confused demeanour, hand resting on the doorknob.

“You know what I mean,” she insisted calmly, making her way to stand in front of him. Rory was tall, taller than average, and yet she still had to lift her chin up to face Calum. “Why did you walk me home?”

“Why did you let me into your apartment?” Calum challenged with a teasing grin, leaning his arm on the wooden door frame. “I only planned on walking you to the building to make sure you were safe, but you insisted on me making sure I took you to the door. You also asked me to make you a hot chocolate.”

“What are you trying to say?” she spoke almost menacingly, though there was a playful layer wrapped around her voice.

“I think those were all tactics to spend time with me,” he explained cheekily, mischief in his eyes. “You like me.”

“I do not,” Rory huffed, horror painted on her every feature.

“I’m only teasing,” Calum chuckled softly, stepping backwards into the hallway. Rory rolled her eyes at him, clearly unamused. “This was fun,” he admitted, tucking his hands into the pockets of his coat. “We should do it again sometime.”

“In your dreams, Hood.”

The sun was beginning to rise as he walked the empty streets, occasionally walking past a drunk group of friends that made their way back home after a wild night. Calum felt the familiar tingle on the back of his calf, waiting a few nervous seconds to see the new bloom upon his skin. It was a lotus flower. New beginnings.

Calum’s lips curled into a smile as he looked down at the soft pink petals, excited for what the year had to bring.

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[stanskzseungmin]

SCB ~ Words From the Heart Often Cuts Deep

NonIdol! + Soulmate! AU

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 2906

Prompt: Write something on your own skin, appears on the other’s skin as well

A/N: TW! Descriptions of self-harm are depicted in this

A/N 2: I’m not too proud of this... like at all, but screw it lmao. Also not proofread so we dying like MEN x2!

Everyone at birth is assigned a soulmate. It’s quite a beautiful story. The universe likes to give back to the world in the form of hope: hope that everyone is promised eternal happiness with a singular person that was decided on by fate. Everyone had their own method of contacting their soulmate or a radar or counter of sorts. 

Changbin didn’t know what his was in particular. He didn’t even know whether or not his gift was communication or a radar. His good friend Felix had a wattle counter. His hyung, Chan, had a counter that showed how long he’s been in the immediate vicinity of his soulmate. His dongsaeng, Jisung, also had a counter that will start the countdown once he’s interacted with his soulmate. Unfortunately for the three, all their counters are all stuck at a fat 0.

“Hey, this probably could mean that you’ve probably interacted with them before?” Jisung suggested, bringing his hands up.

Changbin mumbled into his palm, propping up his elbow on the table. Felix was casually rubbing at Changbin’s exposed forearm.

“Maybe it isn’t a counter at all?” Felix wondered out loud rubbing circles on Changbin’s flesh.

“How about you all get to work before I beat all your asses?” Chan grumbled slouched over his laptop.

“He’s just salty because his timer is stuck at zero,” Jisung whispered with his hand held up to his mouth.

“Your counter is also stuck at zero,” Chan groaned out rubbing his temples.

Felix giggled, still trying to examine Changbin’s forearm. His eyes furrowed in confusion as you spotted the word ‘useless’ forming on his flesh. Changbin ripped his arm away from the younger’s grasp.

“Can you stop molesting me now, Lix?”

~

Like Chan, Changbin didn’t necessarily obsess over his soulmate. If the stars had aligned to assign Changbin a soulmate, then he should allow fate to run its course to allow he and his soulmate to meet one day. Despite this, Changbin has always been a little self conscious about his arms. However, it was certainly not by how lanky it is, his arms could classify as weapons by how thicc they were, but the fact that it’s bare unlike the people around him having some sort of mark intricately tattooed on their skin by fate made him feel like a bit of an outcast. Changbin rolled down his sleeves until it reached past his wrists.

Changbin slumped down in slight defeat letting out a breathy sigh. He shook his head and straightened up, smoothing away the wrinkles on his shirt and readjusting his black snapback on his head. Changbin winced a bit when he felt a fleeting pain his torso.  Changbin tried to straighten up when the passersby eyed him warily. It lingered a bit for a few seconds, but it was almost painful. Changbin let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding as he hurried back to his apartment.

Slamming the door shut behind him, he tossed aside his backpack. The sack slumped down the wall to the floor landing with a light thud. Changbin quickly lifted up his shirt to examine his torso.

“What…?” Changbin whispered, running his finger over the red spot. Changbin winced a bit from the burning on contact, but there on his side just underneath his ribs were two oddly indented crescents that formed on his skin.

“Strange,” Changbin waved it off as he headed straight to the shower. It was a slow day-- one of those where time seemed to crawl at a snail’s pace. Changbin just wanted to have a nice cool shower, curl up under his sheets and sleep to recharge and start anew the next day and feel refreshed.

It was a fairly stuffy day. Sweat covered his body in a light sheen as his clothes seemed to stick to him uncomfortably like an itchy second skin. After shedding his long layers and discarding the fabric on the cool white tile of his bathroom floor, he started the shower, sticking his hand under the cascading drops of water checking the temperature. Satisfied, he went in. Exhaling in bliss as the cool water rolled down his tense muscles, Changbin closed his eyes taking in the refreshing feel. Changbin relished in the cool feeling as suddenly his skin began to crawl. His flesh quickly became red and raw as Changbin suddenly feel...hot. Too hot. Changbin let out pained screams. His excruciating voice echoed throughout the walls of the small room. His body was literally burning up as if boiling water suddenly surrounded him. His hand flew up as his hand flew up desperately grabbing at the nozzle and bumping up the cold water. The freezing cold water had a sharp contrast to his burning skin. It lessened the pain a bit, the cold water help sooth the red flesh. Changbin gasped and panted as light steam came from his body as a result of the cold water hitting his burning skin.

“What the fuck?” Changbin groaned. “Fucking STOP!”

As if on cue, the searing hot skin subsided a bit. The water is doing wonders to his skin. Bracing himself on the tiled wall with both hands, Changbin panted as his skin tingled painfully. Pulling back the curtain, he stumbles out as his leg gives out under him. He made his way towards his phone without bothering for a towel as he left trails of water behind him.

"Hyung? Hyung pick up," Changbin begged while listening to the ringing. After what felt like an eternity, Chan finally answered.

"Changbin? You alright?" Chan asked with worry in his voice. 

"We got a problem," Changbin sighed explaining the pinching pain he experienced earlier as well as his scorching hot shower.

"Are you sure you didn't accidentally bump up the hot water?"

"No," Changbin spat. "I'm not an idiot"

"Alright, alright," Chan surrendered. "It probably has something to do with your soulmate? It obviously isn't a radar or a counter… maybe it's a shared state?

"Who the fuck likes boiling hot showers?"

"I dunno. Some people do. Perhaps your soulmate is having a nice hot shower."

"Nice hot shower, my ass, I'm red all over and my skin feels so raw and sore that the air fucking hurts."

Chan sighs. "Just rub some cream on it and try not to irritate it too much."

Changbin grumbled. "Ok. Thanks, hyung."

Doing as he's told, Changbin eventually goes to bed, only sliding on a pair of boxers. Changbin changed the sheets to a thinner more lightweight one so it feels cool to the touch against his burning skin. Not that long after jumping in bed, he passed out stomach side down relishing on the cool sheets on his sensitive skin. 

It was a peaceful slumber for what it's worth. Eventually he wakes up with a searing pain on his arms. Changbin woke up thrashing and hissing in pain. Changbin shoots up seeing his sheets stained red as several slashes ran across across his wrists. The slashes were irregular: some deep, some light scratches as red oozes out in droplets.

"What the fuck? What the fuck?" Changbin growled out the final word as he rushes to run it under cold water. Changbin gasped in agony as the cool water made it sting profusely. Grabbing a clean rag, he applied pressure to the wound.

Perhaps that was his link to his soulmate, a shared state? A sinking feeling washed over Changbin. Was his soulmate...hurting themselves? The scalding hot showers...the slashes on his wrist.

In curiosity, Changbin scribbles on his arm with a pen. ‘Why would you do this to yourself?’

~

You sobbed to yourself sitting in your tub still fully clothed. Your clothes were drenched as the water overfilled past the rim.

It hurt. Everything hurt. Life seemed to be so very cruel. Everything seemed to border "not good enough." No matter how hard you tried, you can never crawl out of your hole. Not only that, it seemed likely that the hope of a soulmate that would share an eternity with you for better or for worse never appeared. Chuckling darkly to yourself that even at birth the universe decided you were not good enough for a soulmate. Unlike everyone you're surrounded by, your skin remained naked and bare since the day you were born.

As morbid as it is, you held an exacto knife within your hand and you began carving brilliant strokes watching the red flow out. Despite the stinging and searing pain, it felt blissful. The weights of the world and failure seemed to apply pressure to your wounded heart. Each cut seemed to alleviate the pressure and it was addicting. Dipping your arm back into the water with the intention of adding the pained words that describe your being, you brought the blade to your flesh.

Ugly. Useless. Disappointed.

You paused as your breath hitched. You gasped out seeing intricate black ink started penning onto your arm just above the cut.

‘Why would you do this to yourself?’

You froze. Your eyes widened as you felt your heart sank down to your stomach. You swallowed the lump in your throat.

Did you… did you really have a soulmate? Was this him?

Tears welled up in your eyes upon realization that you indeed had a soulmate and that you were hurting him as well. You quickly scrambled out of the tub, the water sloshing loudly as it splashed onto the tile floor. You reached for your bag that you left on the closed lid of the porcelain toilet, rummaging through its content searching for a pen.

'I-it wasn’t… I didn’t mean to!' you scribbled onto your flesh.

“You didn’t ‘mean to’ but it just happens right?"

You broke into sobs. Not only you burdened everyone surrounding you, but you also burdened the one you were fated to be with. You haven't met the man or know the tone of his voice, but you can practically hear the condescending tone and imagine his annoyed and disappointed look.

~

Changbin sighed to himself, running his hand through his dark locks. He didn't mean to come off as a douchebag. He was just so overwhelmed with emotion, his fated to be was hurting themselves. A million thoughts was running through his mind. Who were you? What has pushed you to the point of self harm? How could he help? Could he even help? He felt a pang of pain in his heart, but he didn’t even know you so how could he feel so...heartbroken as if he had known you for years.

‘Take care of yourself, ok?’ Changbin scribbled before heading back to bed.

“What happened to you?!” Felix’s voice squeaked out examining Changbin’s forearms and prodding at the slashes.

“Ow! Lix!”

“ARE YOU DEPRESSED CHANGBIN?” Jisung boomed. “That is a big no no, come here so I can hug your depression away.”

“Jeez, can you be any louder?” Changbin shushed looking around.  “I’m not depressed, ok!”

“You could’ve at least bandaged it,” Felix grumbled as he began disinfecting the wound.

“So it’s your soulmate?” Chan whispered.

“Jesus, Chan. You look like death!” Changbin exclaimed. Chan’s brown hair was heavily disheveled as his prominent dark bags decorated his pale skin.

“Sorry,” Chan shrugged. “I was trying to figure out your soulmate problem. I think your gift is communication.”

“Yea, I know,” Changbin folded up his sleeves, revealing the text he left.

“You should talk to them,” Jisung looked at Changbin with hopeful eyes. “Maybe they just need someone to talk to.”

“It isn’t my business though,” Changbin mumbled.

“They’re your soulmate, it IS your business,” Felix exclaimed.

“Just start it slow, don’t overwhelm them,” Chan suggested. 

Changbin’s shoulders slumped. “What do I even say?”

“I know!” Jisung beamed, raising a hand up.

“Oh no,” three boys’ voices rang out in unison.

‘Have a good day, ok? :)’ Jisung smiled proudly after scribbling the message.

“That’s...actually pretty tame,” Chan merely stated returning to his seat.

“What do you mean ‘tame’? What were you expecting?!” Jisung stammered at the eldest.

“The worst.”

“Felix!” Jisung whined.

~

‘Have a good day, ok? :)’

You chuckled softly at the words that appeared on your skin. Your heart completed leaps in your chest as butterflies erupted within you. You wiped away your tears as you saw a sight of that glimmer of hope: the hope of a soulmate.

‘Thank you. I hope you do, too :)’

~

Changbin and his soulmate has spent day to day leaving small remarks and comments onto their skin. Changbin’s heart swelled with joy knowing that he’s making a difference in his soulmate’s life. There were no more self degrading comments, scorching showers or deep slashes to the skin. There was the occasional deep chill, but you insisted that it was cold where you were. Changbin didn’t want to invade on your personal space so he never asked where you lived. Changbin was soon caught up in midterms as his workload stacked up so he never really had the time to write you small messages. It had been two weeks since Changbin scribbled onto his arm.

But not all good things seemed to last. Changbin was working on some music with his two buddies, Chan and Jisung. The three of them enjoyed writing music as music production majors. Changbin had earbuds in as he’s nodding his head listening to the sample Chan came up with.

“I dunno,” Chan started. “Could use a little more bass, don’t you think?”

Changbin nodded hesitantly. “Yeah, you could try-- Aah!”

“Changbin!” the two boys shot up from their seats to run to Changbin’s side. Changbin doubled over in pain as his thighs began to throb horrible and excruciating pain tore through the flesh. With shaky hands, he pulled back the thin fabric of his shorts revealing rather deep cuts and slashes that ran down his inner thighs.

“Oh my god, Changbin,” Chan gasped out. “Jisung get the first aid kit!”

The youngest jumped and scrambled out of the room, banging his hip ungracefully on the door frame.

“Changbin, are you alright?!” Chan tried to comfort the younger.

”Y-yea, but my soulmate-” Changbin gasped. 

Frantically, Chan reached for a pen that Jisung was previously fiddling with as he scribbled something on Changbin’s thighs. The slashes kept appearing and Changbin choked out a sob with every single one. Soon markings of a word began to form.

D I S A P O I N

‘Please stop, you’re hurting him and yourself!’

The slashes stopped momentarily as Changbin now had a moment to breathe.

‘I’m sorry. I thought it was ok to do it in a less obvious spot...’

‘In what world, did you think it was ok?!’

“Hyung, stop,” Changbin pushed his hyung off.

“Changbin! Every struggle is two ways, you’re hurting, too” Chan lectured.

“I’m here! I’m here!” Jisung barreled in with a red box. Chan immediately went to work disinfecting and bandaging the wounds. 

“Hand me the pen,” Changbin commanded as he winced at the stinging paint of the alcohol.

‘Why are you doing this? Stop.’ Changbin wrote on his forearm. 

‘I deserve this pain.’

‘Why are you saying this?’ Changbin’s heart broke at your last statement.

‘It just hurts so much. Living day by day in failure and never being good enough. No one cares about me. I thought you did. I thought you CARED!’

‘I did, but apparently, it wasn’t enough.’

‘You left me alone for two weeks, when I needed you the most.’

‘Well, I’m sorry. I have a life too.’ Changbin didn’t necessarily meant\ to sound harsh or snappy, but sometimes life gets in the way

‘I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore. I hope you’re happy.’

Changbin’s heart has dropped to his stomach. Changbin visibly stiffened up as he began to tremble. His breathing accelerated as he heard his heart thumping loudly in his ears as fear wracked his body.

“Changbin? What happened?” Chan asked warily reaching out to his arm.

“Hyung?” Jisung spoke out in a small voice, reading the text in his arm. “What does that mean?”

Confused, Chan stood up to stand by Changbin’s side to read the writing there. Gasping, Chan wrested the writing utensil from Changbin’s stiff grip.

‘Please stop. Don’t do what we’re thinking. Please, where are you?’

The atmosphere was tense and heavy. The only sound that permeated throughout the room was Changbin’s heavy breathing. 

‘Please,’ Chan scribbled once more. With shaky hands, the words came out similar to chicken scratch.

Changbin erupted in a fit of coughs as he stumbled out of his chair.

“Changbin!” “Hyung!” Chan and Jisung called bending down to his level and rubbing his back. 

Changbin fell to his knees as he doubled over gasping and wheezing. His hands flew to his neck as fingers frantically rubbed and scratched at the flesh. Chan and Jisung in a panic grabbed at Changbin’s arms to prevent him from injuring his neck. 

“Oh my god,” Chan gasped out in horror.

On Changbin’s neck were rope burns. The flesh was raw and red and slowly turning purple from the bruising. Changbin kept gasping for air feeling like he couldn’t breathe, but in reality he was breathing just fine. Black spots dotted Changbin’s vision as the world began to spin. Changbin collapsed into Chan’s arms unconscious as his breathing slowly steadies out.

Meanwhile, your world turned to black as you swung softly back and forth as you took your final breath.

[sideoffiction]

Unwanted Soul

Relationship: Prinxiety, Mention of Deceit/Picani, for like .5 seconds

Warnings:Sympathetic Deceit mention. Slight angst I think that’s it?

Summary:“Virgil, would you care to explain to me why there is a man in the lobby, talking about how he is convinced that any minute his soulmate will “fly down the stairs and into his arms?” “Nope”

Virgil Sanders doesn't like the idea of soulmates. As his timer inevitably counts down, Virgil decides to hide in his room until it’s over.

So this is my first fic that I’m uploading to Tumblr. If you want to read on AO3, I’ll post the link in a reblog. I hope you all enjoy! (also FYI, they are all about mid to late twenties in this)

Everyone has a soulmate, it’s common fact. Whether it be romantic or platonic, people are destined to have and meet the person they are fated to. On everyone’s arm there is a timer, slowly ticking away until the day it hits zero, the day you look your soulmate in the eye. There is even a precautionary measure, on the off chance that two soulmates lose each other before they can actually talk after the first look: the timers will continue blinking zeros until the two soulmates each talk to the other. It is nearly impossible to not meet your soulmate.

Despite all this, there are people who don’t quite believe, or just don’t like the idea of soulmates. Virgil Sanders is one of these people. He doesn’t want to meet his soulmate, and he will do anything to avoid it, despite being told that it is impossible. This leads us to our current situation.

“Virgil, you can not sit in the apartment all day to avoid interaction.” Logan sighs into his book, glancing over to his roommate on the couch.

“Watch me” Virgil replies, curling further into his blanket and facing the television, the blanket covering most of his face except for his eyes..

“You can’t ignore them forever. No matter what, you will meet your soulmate. Its illogical for you to think otherwise.”

“You know what’s illogical?” Virgil pokes his head out from the blanket slightly more to say this. “The fact that fate forces us to be with someone we don’t even know. The fact that fate took some poor unfortunate soul, and made it so that they are forced to stay with me forever.”

“You are exaggerating, Virgil. Evidence and statistics have proven time and time again that soulmates almost always find happiness with each other. Whoever this person is, they will undoubtedly be happy with you.”

“That’s not the point, Lo. The point is they will be forced to like me. They are stuck with a big ball of anxiety and self-deprecation, and they have to deal with it. They have no other choice, even if they wanted one. Then again, no one would want me if they had the choose. That’s a proven fact.”

Virgil can see the pity on Logan’s face, and he hates it. He doesn’t want Logan’s pity. He just wants this day to be over so that he never has to think about soulmates ever again. Logan goes to respond, but before he can his cell phone starts to ring. He sighs as he puts his book down on his lap to answer it. Virgil turns his attention back to the television as Logan talks. He only turns back when he hears him hang up. He watches as Logan stands up, moving the book from his lap to the coffee table.

“Unfortunately, I must take my leave. My coworker just called saying he is going to be late to work, and has requested that I fill in for him while he’s away.”

Virgil tries to hide his relief at Logan leaving, but Logan notices it immediately.

“Do not think that me not being here to force you out of the apartment is going to stop you from meeting your soulmate. It will happen, whether you like it or not.” And with that, Logan walks into his bedroom to start getting ready for his shift.

Virgil wanders around the apartment in his socks, searching for something to occupy his time. He had grown bored of the television an hour ago, and his phone was in his room charging. He wears his hoodie, trying to hide his soulmark, but everytime he goes to move his arm, his sleeve rides up and he can see a brief glimpse of his time.

00:00:10:15

Ten minutes until he’s supposed to meet his soulmate.

Good luck meeting me if I don’t leave my house. Virgil had already put in all necessary precautions to make sure there was no chance of meeting his soulmate. He will not answer any knocks on the door or the doorbell. He already told all of his (sadly few) friends that he was busy so they couldn’t force him out of the house. Or come to his house, in the off chance they brought a friend that he’d never met before. Hell, he even brought the spare key into the house in case his soulmate was a burglar that could easily get into his house with it. Yup, Virgil is positive that he will not meet his soulmate.

Virgil decides to grab a jar of jam and a spoon (Logan will have a fit when he finds out he ate his Crofters, but Virgil couldn’t care less) and heads up to his room. He plops on his bed and grabs his charging phone, deciding to spend the time mindlessly scrolling through Tumblr while he eats the jam. He stays like that for a while, until suddenly he hears a large crash outside his apartment. Virgil jumps at the sound, panicking slightly. Against his better judgement, he decides to take a peek outside his window to see what the noise was. He places his jam on the nightstand and looks out.

Outside, a small car accident has occurred. No one seems too injured, as all occupants get out of their cars and start talking. I’m glad no one got hurt. I would feel bad if someone died in front of my apartment. Knowing my luck, their ghost would haunt this building, and probably, as a result, me.

Virgil doesn’t realize as he becomes lost in thought, staring outside at the damaged cars. Suddenly, however, he starts hearing a loud noise,  which causes him to jump slightly.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

A smirk makes its way onto Virgil’s face. He had done it. His timer was beeping, yet where was his soulm-

That’s when he realizes. While becoming lost in thought looking outside, his eyes had begun to shift. And now, he was staring into the eyes of a stranger, who looks up at him from the sidewalk with wide eyes. Virgil watches as the man’s face slowly lights up as he realizes what is happening. Virgil watches as the man darts across the street to the entrance of his apartment building.

Shit. Virgil’s eyes widen, and he hastily shuts his blind.  Shit shit shit shit shit.

His soulmate had seen him. And now his soulmate would be waiting for him. Waiting and waiting. But Virgil wasn’t going to show. He couldn’t. He may have seen his soulmate, but he will not give in. He refuses.

Virgil’s breathing picks up slightly. He doesn’t know what to do. He didn’t plan for this to happen; he thought his plan was fool proof. Now this man that he doesn’t even know will give up everything in order to meet and be with Virgil. He would probably even give up any relationship he has now in order to be with Virgil. Virgil’s breath picks up even more. He needs to stop thinking about this: he needs a distraction. He needs to stop thinking about his situation, one he does not want to be in right now. He grabs his earbuds from his nightstand and quickly puts them in, putting his playlist on shuffle. Slowly, his mind drifts away from his soulmate.

Half an hour later, Virgil hears the front door to the apartment slam shut. He listens as footsteps quickly move closer and closer to his room, as if with purpose. His door opens without so much as a knock. Logan stands in the doorway, a serious look on his face.

“Virgil, would you care to explain to me why there is a man in the lobby, talking about how he is convinced that any minute his soulmate will ‘fly down the stairs and into his arms’?”

“Nope.” Logan sighs at that answer, and goes to sit on the edge of Virgil’s bed. Virgil watches as he glances up his sleeve and Virgil knows he can see the faint line of zeroes blinking on his arm.

“Is it really so bad to meet your soulmate, Virge? He seems really excited to meet you. You should really give him a shot.”

“He’s really excited to meet his soulmate, Lo. Not me. He doesn’t even know me. He’s just fed the same bullshit as everyone else. ‘Oh it’ll be love at first site’. Yadda yadda. Life shouldn’t work like that, Lo. Love shouldn’t work like that. I don’t want to meet someone without the free will of being able to choose them.”

Logan remains silent for awhile, lost in thought, before getting up off of the bed and walking out the door, leaving Virgil alone once more.

Logan has always been respectful of Virgil and his boundaries. When Virgil tells him that he doesn’t want something, or that he doesn’t want Logan involved, he tries to respect his wishes. But this. This is something Logan cannot keep out of. While not completely understanding the emotional aspect of soulmates, as he has not quite found his own yet, he knows the statistics. Virgil needs his soulmate to help him as a person and help his happiness. And damn it if he’s gonna let Virgil let that happiness slip away just because of the past.

Logan slips outside of their apartment, making sure the door is still unlocked as he does, as he doesn’t have his key on him.. And knowing Virgil, he probably took away the spare key to keep people out of the apartment. He makes his way down the hall and down the stairs. There in the lobby is the same man he had seen previously, a broad young man dressed in a red jacket and white pants. Instead of loudly talking about his soulmate and how excited he was to meet him, however, he sat in one of the chairs looking heartbroken. From what little Logan had seen, that look doesn’t fit the man.

Logan walks over to him. “Greetings.”

The man looks up, excitement and hope in his eyes, however when he sees Logan, he quickly deflates. “You’re not him.”

“I know I am not. My name is Logan.” Logan stretches out his hand in greeting. The man looks at it, confused, before shaking it.

“I’m Roman.”

“What exactly is the matter. Roman?” Logan is curious of Roman’s point of view of the situation. Roman looks at Logan suspiciously before deciding that he’s trustworthy enough for the tale. He pulls up his sleeves to reveal blinking zeroes on his arm.

“I… locked eyes with my soulmate today. I was walking to get some lunch during my break when there was a car accident. Some shit happened and I was suddenly looking up into one of the windows in a building nearby where a man was watching. Next thing I knew, my timer’s going off and this gorgeous man was smirking down at me. I rushed across the street, fully expecting him to rush down and greet me. He didn’t. At first I thought he was just slow. Then I thought he was taking his time to make sure he was presentable. Now I don’t know what to think.” Roman looks down at his hands and continues speaking. “Am I not good enough? Did my soulmate take one look at me, take me as a horrible, disgusting human being, and decide I wasn’t worth his time?”

Logan doesn’t know what to say. Less than an hour ago, this man was bursting with confidence, excitedly waiting for his soulmate to finally unite with him. Now, the same man was sitting so dejectedly, with tears starting to form in his eyes. Logan, despite not being the best at it, attempts to comfort Roman.

“I’m sure it's not like that” Logan starts, placing his hand on Roman’s shoulder. Roman looks up at him as his tears slowly make their way down his cheeks.

“Then why?” His voice cracks a little as he says this, and Logan vows to give Virgil a piece of his mind for making this seemingly confident man crumble. Logan takes a deep breath before replying.

“I know who your soulmate is.” He says it gently, trying to say it so that Roman won’t take it the wrong way. It doesn’t work. Roman’s eyes widen, and he pushes Logan’s hand off of his shoulder in shock. He stands up and takes a step away from Logan, keeping his eyes on him the whole time.

“What sort of sick joke is this?” His voice is even more full of hurt than before. Logan quickly to stands up to try and reassure him, but Roman continues before Logan can speak. “This has to be a joke. Or, let me guess. He sent you down here to reject me gently instead of him coming down himself. That has to be it! You asshole.”

“Roman, please settle down. I would like to inform you that my talking to you is for the exact opposite reason that you think.”

“Oh yeah? Then what is the real reason?”

“Please sit back down, and I will explain what’s going on.” Roman eyes him wearily as he sits back down, noticeably farther away from Logan than he was before. Logan takes a moment to collect his thoughts before starting his story.

“I’ve known Virgil since we were little.” Roman goes to say something but Logan cuts him off. “Yes, that is your soulmate’s name. Anyway, when we were little, Virge used to love the idea of love. And since he was always taught that soulmates are always supposed to bring love, he inevitably fell in love with the concept of soulmates as well. However, when we were about 15 years-old, Virge formed a crush on our mutual friend Dee. Dee, while being a compulsive liar, wasn’t a terrible kid, and so when Virge confessed his crush, Dee took it well. He agreed to give it a shot, despite them not being soulmates. They were happy together, and for a while it seemed like nothing could break them apart. Then, Dee met his soulmate.”

Logan stops his story to gauge Roman’s reaction. Roman looked enthralled in the story, as if he were being told a fairytale. Logan continues.

“They had known it was coming, as they had a literal timer that marked when they would have to end their relationship. However, Dee always promised that when he met his soulmate, he wouldn’t abandon Virgil. But when Emile showed up, it was as if Dee completely forgot his promise. Ever since then, Virgil has despised the idea that you are forced to love someone because of fate. Today, he locked himself in our shared apartment in order to avoid meeting his soulmate, despite me telling him that it was fruitless. Obviously, by our current situation, it has been proven once again that I was right.”

As Logan finishes up his story, he once again watches Roman’s reaction. He looks sad, but for an entirely different reason than before.

“So it may not be me that he hates, but he still wants nothing to do with me. I have no chance.”

“On the contrary, Roman, I believe that you are perfect for Virgil.” Roman looks confused at that, so Logan continues. “From what little I’ve come to know about you, you seem to care a great deal about soulmates. I believe it is not too much of a stretch to assume that you, in loving soulmates, love the concept of love itself as well. Maybe even as much as Virgil once did. I believe that, if you try hard enough, you can teach Virgil to love soulmates once again.”

Roman’s eyes light up at the thought, and he jumps up suddenly. “Then I shall take on this quest of saving my Knight from this lonely path he has set himself on, for I am not Prince Roman!”

“I may not know you well, but I know for certain that you are not a prince.”

“It is my last name, and therefore I am, indeed, a Prince! Now tell me, where is this Virgil?” Logan smirks slightly at Roman’s antics, however he quickly drops it as he replies.

“Before I take you up, you must promise me something.”

“And what is that, dear Logan?”

“You have to go easy on him. You can’t just try to sweep him off his feet to get him to love- heck, to even like- you. In fact, you need to do the opposite. You need to help him find balance, and be an anchor to help him stay on his feet. Compromise with him: keep your love gestures small while trying to get him to slowly open up and give them back. Just, in general, be careful.”

Roman’s eyes soften as Logan speaks.

“You care for him greatly don’t you?” It looks like Logan goes to reject it for a moment, but thinks better of it.

“He’s my best friend, I don’t want him any more hurt than he’s already been.” He pauses for a second. “I just want him to be happy.”

Roman places his hand on Logan’s shoulder, like Logan once did to him, and speaks calmly and sincerely. “I’ll be careful.”

They made it into the apartment fairly quietly, and head towards Virgil’s room. When Logan goes to open the door, it doesn’t budge. Virgil must have locked it after their earlier encounter. He knocks on the door and waits for an answer. He can hear Virgil faintly shuffling around his room to answer the door.

“What do you want now, Lo?” Virgil states as he opens the door slightly and sticks his head out. It takes him a second to notice Roman next to Logan, but when he sees him, he closes the door once more.

“Virgil please-” Logan starts, but Virgil cuts him off through the door.

“I can’t believe you, Logan. You know exactly why I don’t want to meet him, and yet you bring him to me anyway. You better have a damn good reason.”

Logan opens his mouth to respond, but he is cut off once more, this time by Roman.

“It’s my fault. I begged and begged and  practically forced him to bring me to you. Do not blame him for my actions.”

“And you.” At this, Virgil opens the door once more to get into Roman’s face. Logan takes a glance at the other two’s arms, and watches as their timers both stop blinking zeros. The final proof that Logan didn’t accidentally grab the wrong person. Not that he thought he did or anything. “I don’t care that you are my soulmate. You have no right to force yourself into my life. I want nothing to do with you.”

“If I could speak please.” Logan states loudly, tired of the tension in the room. They both look at him in shock. “Virgil, despite what he says, it was I who brought him here. I just want you to talk to him. I don’t want you to just throw him away because of the past.”

“But-“

“No buts. Just give him a chance. That’s all I ask for. And if by the end of it, you still want nothing to do with him, I will make sure he leaves and doesn’t bother you ever again.”

Virgil sighs, and Logan knows he has won. When Logan has his mind set, nothing will stop him from getting what he wants.

“Fine. I’ll give him five minutes. That is all.” Virgil opens his door more to allow Roman to enter. Before he shuts the door, he glares at Logan.

I hate you Virgil mouths to him. Logan smirks as the door shuts.

“You’ll thank me later.” He whispers to the door.

Virgil watches as this man, his ‘soulmate’, takes in his room, looking at all the posters and merchandise scattered throughout. The man gets particularly excited when he notices Virgil’s Nightmare Before Christmas poster, but when he opens his mouth to mention it, Virgil crossed his arms and speaks up.

“I said I would give you five minutes, and five minutes you will get. You better start talking.” The man closes his mouth, and Virgil can practically see the gears turning in his head. Finally, after about ten seconds of silence, he speaks up.

“I believe the first order of business is to introduce ourselves.” The man exaggerates a bow to Virgil. “Greetings. My name is Roman Prince, and I believe we are soulmates.”

“Virgil Sanders” is all Virgil replies. He continues to stare at the man- Roman- with distaste. Roman sighs and stands straight up once more.

“I’m going to be upfront here and say that Logan told me why you hate soulmates.” Virgil feels a pang of hurt go through him; that is not Logan’s story to tell. “I first want to say that I am truly sorry for what happened to you.”

“Yeah well, it's not something you should be sorry about. And the past is in the past, I don’t care anymore.”

“But you do care. You care enough that you stayed inside to avoid meeting me. I’m going to go out on a limb and assume the true reason you did that. We met so late in life, later than a lot of our peers. Am I wrong to say that you didn’t want to ruin any relationships I had build up when we finally met.” Virgil flinches slightly at the accusation, but quickly grows angry.

“Who are you to assume anything about me? You’ve known me, what? Five minutes? Ten, if you count asshole out there telling you my entire life story. How do you know I don’t just hate the entire concept for an entirely different reason, huh? How do you know it isn’t you I hate?” Virgil’s making things up now, he knows he is. But he doesn’t want to get attached to this man. He just wants him to go back to him own life, and leave him the hell alone.

It’s Roman’s turn to flinch at that, the statement having obviously hit a nerve. His voice is lower when he speaks again.

“I know, because you refused to look me in the eyes when you said that.” Virgil is shocked to notice that he is right. He looks Roman in the eyes, and goes to say it again, when he stops. This is the first time he has properly looked Roman in the eyes. Hell, it's the first time he has properly looked at Roman in general. His eyes are a rich chocolate brown. They look like they could hold all the happiness in the world, like when their eyes first met through the window. But now, they are only filled with sadness. His face is similar. A handsome face, really, that looks as if it spends most of its time laughing, and yet here it was, full of sadness and hurt. All because of Virgil.

How long has this man waited for his soulmate, waited for the day that he would meet the love of his life? He was like Virgil was, all those years ago, wasn’t he? Clinging onto the belief that love will come to those who find their soulmate. It wasn’t his fault that Virgil fell- gained a crush on Dee. Virgil had no right to punish Roman when they were really both looking for the same thing. Love.

“Virgil.” Virgil looks back up to Roman (when had he looked away?), small tears starting to form in his eyes. Roman looks hesitant. “Virgil, can I hug you?”

It takes Virgil a second to comprehend what was being asked and to respond. He nods his head a little. Gently, Roman wraps his arms around him, and holds him as if he is the most precious thing in the world. And maybe, to Roman, he is. Virgil feels safe in Roman’s arms, safer than he has ever felt in his life. The tears in his eyes slowly start to fall. Is this what it is like to truly have a soulmate? To have someone meant for you, someone made perfectly to help you learn and grow throughout your life? Now Virgil understands just why Dee left. Virgil could never compare to this feeling, no matter how hard he could try.

It is in that moment, safe in his soulmate’s arms, that Virgil finally feels that he can forgive Dee.

Roman looks down at Virgil with a soft smile. Sometime after their hug, they had decided to lay on Virgil’s bed and get to know each other. The first thing they did was establish that they would go slow to let Virgil get used to having something he once despised. But now, they just laid there and talked, their sides touching in a weird sort of cuddle.

“So what do you do for a living?” Virgil asks him.

“I am the prince of a faraway land, ruling my kingdom fairly and justly, and making it a place for all to feel welcome.” Virgil gives him a stare and he smiles sheepishly. “Or, I’m just an actor at the local community theatre. What about you, Hot topic?”

“Aw you think I’m hot.” Roman blushes slightly and Virgil laughs. God, Roman could never get tired of that laugh. “I just work stock at the local bookstore: Me, My-shelf and I. Ever heard of it?”

“Ah yes, my dear friend Patton owns it, does he not?”

“You know Patton?”

“Ah yes, we grew up together, much like you and Specs out there.”

“Heh, small world.”

“Indeed.”

They fall silent, but the silence isn’t bad or tense. It gives Roman a minute to glance around the room once more. His eyes land on a photo on Virgil’s nightstand. In it are three teenagers. Two, Roman recognizes as Virgil and Logan, despite them being almost ten years younger. The third boy has a scar across his face, and he is holding Virgil’s hand.

“That’s Dee.” Virgil’s voice startles Roman. He looks back down at Virgil, and watches as his sad eyes take in the photo.

“You really loved him, didn’t you.”

Virgil doesn’t respond, but Roman can see the love in his eyes.

“I know that I could never replace him. He was your first love, was he not?” Roman feels Virgil’s nod. “But I can try to lessen the hurt. I will try to show you time and time again that I am not just with you because we are soulmates, but because I genuinely like you.”

“Thanks, Roman.” Virgil moves closer to Roman, his body now curling into his. Roman carefully wraps his arms around Virgil. They remain silent, and Roman notices as Virgil slowly drifts off. Roman smiles softly, and kisses the top of Virgil’s head.

Logan works in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for that night’s dinner. If it wasn’t for him, Virgil would try to live on takeout and ramen.

It had been a while since Logan had heard anything coming from Virgil’s room. He starts to fear the worst, thinking that they had finally killed each other. He silently puts his knife down, and makes his way over to the room, listening for any sort of noise. He silently opens Virgil’s door and peaks in. There, on the bed, is Virgil and Roman. Virgil is passed out, curled up next to Roman. Meanwhile, Roman sits on his phone, his other hand mindlessly weaving through Virgil’s hair. When the door opens, Roman looks up. He smiles when he sees Logan.

“Thank you,” he whispers, glancing down at Virgil once more with a small smile. Logan nods back, and silently closing the door as he backs away.

I guess I have to make dinner for three.