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inkyardpress · 7 years ago

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Excerpt: Everlife by Gena Showalter

CHAPTER ONE

“Life isn’t about what you gain; it’s about what you give.”—Troika

Ten

Present day

I peer up at the indomitable Killian Flynn, my heart thudding against my ribs. Every breath I take fills me with hope, wonder…and dismay.

Our relationship is about to change. Everything is about to change.

Earlier we snuck out of our realms to meet in the Land of the Harvest. A secret cave in Russia’s Ural Mountains, to be exact. Now we stand face-to-face, hand in hand. Jagged rocks create the perfect frame for Killian’s wild, ravaging beauty and the unwavering strength he wields. Strength forged on the bloodiest of battlefields.

There’s no other warrior I’d rather have at my side.

Our people might be at war, but we are going to usher in peace. One step at a time.

I drink him in, this boy I’m trusting with my present—and my future. His skin is a magnificent shade between bronze and gold while his hair is jet black. His eyebrows are thick, masculine, and his nose sharp as a blade. His mouth is soft and lush. Pure temptation…

A shadow of a beard dusts his triangular jaw. Under his T-shirt and jeans, his deliciously muscled body is covered in tattoos. Skulls, stars, roses and other images, all connected by lines, creating some sort of map. That map appears on both his spirit and his Shell—an outer casing made to resemble a spirit—but he’s never told me where it leads.

One day, he’ll share all. We both will.

But it is his eyes that draw me in and hold me captive. His eyes are soulful gold with flecks of electric blue. Always those flecks strike a chord inside me, different songs piercing my soul. Some are fast and erratic, eliciting passion, while others are slow and dreamy; always they are haunting.

Today I hear a seductive melody that sets my blood aflame and chills me to the bone. Makes sense. I am fire, he is ice, yet we fit. After all, the warmth of a fire is best enjoyed on a frigid winter’s day.

So many differences. Too many, most would say.

Just enough to rock the entire world.

I am day. He is night.

I strengthen in Light. He is unrivaled in darkness.

I like rules, structure. He thrives in chaos.

I believe our worst emotions should never dictate our actions; we should help, forgive and care for others. Emotions are fleeting, after all, and subject to change. Why let one ruin your life? He believes emotion should drive us every moment of every day, and caring for others is foolish. Those you help now will stab you in the back later.

To me, today’s choices dictate tomorrow’s reality. To him, Fate decides for us.

I’m a Troikan Conduit. He’s a Myriadian Laborer. We are Lifeblood-born enemies, and yet he is the love of my Everlife.

As different as we are, we are also the same. Painful pasts shaped us, made us stronger. We hold on tight whenever something—or someone—threatens the people and things we love. We fight for what we believe is right, no matter the obstacles in our way.

I’m one of only two Conduits responsible for lighting Troika, and I’m supposed to kill Killian, our enemy. I’m going to marry him, instead.

Chemistry doesn’t care about expectations. I love and adore this boy, and I hold on tight, remember?

Even if I despised him, I would say “I do.” There’s more at stake than our hearts.

Once we unite our spirits, we will have the opportunity to unite our realms and facilitate the peace we so desperately crave. Together, we will enter Myriad and slay Ambrosine, Prince of Ravens. The realm’s corrupt Secondking.

A corrupt leader corrupts his people absolutely.

Then Killian will take the crown, and command, and order his armies to stand down. He will accept the truce Troika once offered. A truce Eron, Prince of Doves and the Secondking of Troika, has wanted for centuries.

Finally the war will end.

Once that is accomplished—or maybe before, we haven’t decided on an order yet—we will save the poor souls trapped inside Many Ends, the hellish sub-realm connected to Myriad.

Many Ends is home to the Unsigned who experience Firstdeath, as well as monstrous beings with a single goal: kill everyone. Spirits are hunted and killed in the most horrific ways. Again…and again. Because, once a spirit “dies” in Many Ends, it comes back to life, ready for round two…three…four…

Four, the number for stability, order and justice. A strong foundation, considering there are four sides in a square. Four cardinal directions—north, south, east, west. Four seasons to complete a year—winter, spring, summer, fall. Four winds, and four phases of the moon.

Four is the only numeral spelled with the same amount of letters as its numerical value.

Focus. I believe the spirits trapped inside Many Ends come back to life, but my theory hasn’t yet been proven.

Another uncertainty? Killian’s mother, Caroline, and my friend Marlowe could be there. But here’s the thing. Neither Caroline nor Marlowe were Unsigned. Caroline made covenant with Myriad years before, only to experience Second-death within days of reaching the realm. Marlowe made covenant with Troika, only to void it when she committed suicide. Different people, different policies.

Myriad claimed Caroline’s spirit Fused with the spirit of a newborn infant the day of her death, but I think they lied. I think all Myriadians wind up in Many Ends, like all Troikans wind up in the Rest.

If people knew, they might not sign with Myriad. Falsehoods and propagandas keep business booming.

I need to save the damned, and I can. I know I can. Not because I’m special. Please. I’m just a girl who can navigate Many Ends’ treacherous labyrinth better than most, because I’ve been there.

A shudder of dismay rocks me.

“I hope ye weren’t thinking of me just then, lass.” Killian lifts my hands to his lips and kisses my knuckles, sending tingles down my spine.

“Are you kidding? The great Killian Flynn only ever makes girls shiver with desire.”

“Or vibrate with anger.”

Smiling, I nod. “That’s fair.”

The ring on his thumb glints in the firelight, warming my heart. After my grandmother Meredith experienced Second-death, I was presented with a token of remembrance. A gun-ring with six-round cylinders, 2mm pinfire. A gorgeous piece of weaponry and a fashion statement. My most prized possession.

I could think of no better gift when Killian gave me a hand-carved pendant in the shape of pi. Infinite possibilities rest within the ratio of a circle’s circumference to its diameter; every possibility for every life. A number without end. Convert letters to numbers, and they, too, can be found within pi. Meaning, every number with any meaning—from our birthdays to the date we die—and every word ever spoken, every word that will be spoken, exist within pi.

“I love you” becomes 9 + 12 + 15 + 22 + 5 + 25 + 15 + 21 = 619.

Or as Killian says:

I = one letter.

Love = four letters.

You = three letters.

143, 10.

Even now, the pendant hangs from a string of leather around my neck, both beautiful and useful. Whenever I’m in trouble, I can press the center, and my location will be sent to Killian’s comm. He can find me in an instant and help.

Now, we’re going to help each other and intertwine our futures with an unbreakable covenant.

What if, despite this, I’m unable to enter Myriad?

Zero! The doubt devil surfaces, and swarms of others follow. Will my Light hurt him? Will his darkness harm me? Will we weaken or strengthen each other? Will our covenant to the realms be voided? What if, after this, neither of us can return home?

Firstlife was a dress rehearsal. Now the curtain is up, and we’re performing in front of a live studio audience. Every word, action and decision comes with a consequence. There are no second chances to right our wrongs. No do-overs.

I’ve been told I’ll turn the tide of the war, somehow, some way. What if my bond to Killian turns the tide in Myriad’s favor?

Maybe I should back out. Except…every fiber of my being suddenly screams in denial. Both realms have reached a boiling point. Every day innocents are slaughtered. Something has to change, and fast. This is our best shot at peace. Our only shot. And really, I want to save Myriad just as much as I want to save Troika. I shouldn’t put one realm above the other.

Face it. If I back out now, fear wins and everyone loses.

I will not make decisions based on “what if.” I will do what’s right, always. Because, in the end, I’m the only one who has to live with my regrets.

Doubt devils can suck it.

Killian squeezes my hands. “Yer paler by the second, lass. There’s still time tae back out.” His accent is thicker than usual, his voice low and husky, and irresistibly sexy. “I doona want you feelin’ pressured.”

“I just…I wish we could speak with other inter-realm couples. We aren’t the first Troikan and Myriadian to fall in love. We can’t be.” Though we’ve searched high and low, we’ve found no one else. Either the others are in hiding…or dead.

He stiffens, as if he’s expecting a devastating blow. “We can put this ceremony on hold and continue searching.”

And end up right where we are, perhaps far too late. “We’re doing this. I’ll share my Light with you, and you’ll share your darkness with me. I’ll pass through the Veil of Midnight.” The doorway that leads into Myriad freezes Troikans to Second-death. But I’m about to become half-Myriadian. Maybe. Probably. Fingers crossed.

“If yer doing this for your mother…”

Mom is locked in the Kennels, a prison in Myriad. I’m going to find and free her, so she can defect to Troika to raise my little brother, Jeremy. “She’s one of many reasons,” I say.

He relaxes, but only slightly. “Yer only seventeen years old. We can revisit the bond in a few decades, yeah.”

Decades? I inhale deeply, drawing in the familiar and beloved scent of peat smoke and heather. His scent. A new wave of calm flows over me, as warm and sweet as honey. “I’m almost eighteen, and you’re only nineteen. So what? We’ve lived, died and lived again. I’m not going to wait to fight for what’s right, and I’m certainly not going to wait to claim you.”

“I doona want you doin’ something you’ll regret.”

His accent has reached maximum thickness. Aka sweet, mouthwatering molasses. Meaning his emotions are engaged and running rampant. “How could I regret a miracle?” I ask.

One dark brow arches as his incredible eyes glitter. “Explain.”

“There are over one hundred billion galaxies. And counting! There are incalculable universes, two realms in the Unending, two sub-realms, nine planets in our solar system, one hundred and ninety-six countries, seven seas, and over seven hundred islands. The fact that we found each other—miracle.”

He laughs. “Ye trying to seduce me, lass? ‘Cause it’s working.”

This boy. Oh, this boy. He’s the one seducing me. Heart, mind, body. I love him.

But go ahead. Remove love from the equation. It doesn’t matter. Still I trust him. Time and time again, he’s defied the orders of his Secondking in an effort to protect my family. He’s helped me when he should have harmed me.

“It’s working, but it hasn’t carried you to the finish line yet?” I mock-growl. “I can’t believe you’re making me talk you into this. It was your idea. Maybe I should wait until you get down on one knee to beg for the honor of becoming my husband.”

His good humor fades in an instant, his features tight with tension. “I willna beg. I had tae beg for scraps as a child, simply to survive. Now I’d rather die than beg for anything.”

“Hey, hey.” Amusement gone, I gently cup his face. Tenderness wells inside me. There’s so much I don’t know about him. So much I’m eager to learn. “I was only teasing, I promise.”

He releases a shuddering breath. A second later, his lips curve in a slow smile full of promise, and tendrils of heat unfurl inside me. He is beautiful beyond imagining, though every chiseled line is cut by cruelty, as if pain lives and breathes inside him. I look at him, and I want to kiss him, hug him and shake him all at once.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “You get I’ll be cherishin’ ye every day of my Everlife, yeah?”

Just like that. I’m undone. One smile—and I fall deeper in love with him. One moment of time—and I can’t imagine a single day without him. One sentence—and I’m happier than I’ve ever been.

I rise on my tiptoes and press a soft kiss to his lips.

“Will ye be cherishin’ me? I mean, yer wearing Troikan armor. Think your marriage is going to be a battlefield, eh?”

I give the collar of my black catsuit a self-conscious tug.

“I kid, I kid.” Killian brushes his knuckles across my jawline. “Ye look good in anything.” His voice takes on a husky timbre. “Later, ye’ll look even better in nothing.”

Heat blooms over my cheeks.

His smile returns, and it’s full of mischief, wonder and adoration. He brushes his thumbs over the rise of my cheekbones. “Yer eyes are like mini-TV screens. They broadcast yer emotions.”

Others have told me I’m impossible to read. But then, Killian knows me better than most, and he wants me anyway. Not because I’m a rare Conduit, but because I’m me. Tenley Lockwood. A girl who’s messed up, time and time again, but continues to get up and keep fighting the good fight.

“Today, a new future will be forged,” I say. “Enemies become family.”

“The first step toward concord between our realms.”

Wind whistles outside our cave, snow billowing, while a fire crackles inside. My gaze snags on the far wall, where the numerical equivalent of our names is carved. 68 + 39.

Killian: 11 + 9 + 12 + 12 + 9 + 1 + 14 = 68

Ten: 20 + 5 + 14 = 39

68 + 39 = 107

Sonnet 107 by William Shakespeare.

Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul

Of the wide world dreaming on things to come,

Can yet the lease of my true love control,

Suppos’d as forfeit to a confin’d doom.

The mortal moon hath her eclipse endur’d

And the sad augurs mock their own presage;

Incertainties now crown themselves assur’d

And peace proclaims olives of endless age.

Now with the drops of this most balmy time

My love looks fresh, and Death to me subscribes,

Since, spite of him, I’ll live in this poor rhyme,

While he insults o’er dull and speechless tribes;

And thou in this shalt find thy monument,

When tyrants’ crests and tombs of brass are spent.

In other words, love is not subject to time, or even death.

In the back of my mind, the Grid ripples with approval and delivers a new surge of confidence. I am doing the right thing. We will succeed in our endeavors.

Once, I lamented my invisible link to other Troikans. Now I rejoice. Support can mean the difference between victory and defeat. But who would approve of this union? No one but me knows about it.

“Whatever happens next,” Killian says, “doona forget I love ye.” The brawler capable of any dark deed leans down to rub his nose against mine. “All right?”

“All right.” I’ll never forget, and I’ll never tire of hearing those words. “I love you, too.”

His smile reignites, and oh, wow, it’s like Cupid’s arrow through my heart. Killian is more than beautiful. He is life. The crystalline flecks in his eyes… there are eight. Eight is the atomic number for oxygen. Killian is my oxygen, the reason I breathe.

“Ready?” He lifts my hands to his mouth once more and traces his tongue between my knuckles.

My stomach flips over. If not for Shells, Myriadians and Troikans would be unable to touch without agonizing pain. Usually Shells mute sensation. Today I feel everything.

“Tell me what to do,” I rasp.

“Our word is our bond. Speak, and it’s done. We’ll pledge our lives tae each other. Simple, easy.”

As simple and easy as pledging our Everlife to one of the realms. Okay, I can do that. The simplicity doesn’t negate the difficulty, however. I’m giving my life—my future—to another person.

He raises his chin. “I’ll go first, aye.”

“Aye. I mean yes.” My heart thuds against my ribs, and I lick my lips.

When he releases my hands, panic invades. I’ve lost my anchor. Then he cups my face, holding me as if I’m more delicate than glass. “Tenley Nicole Lockwood, you’ve given me life beyond the grave. Until ye, I never knew the power of being connected tae another person. Ye saw the best in me even when I showed ye my worst. Ye trusted me when all evidence pointed tae my guilt. For that, I give ye my Everlife. Everything I am, everything I have, is yers.”

Hot tears well in my eyes, catching in my lashes. How am I supposed to match such a glorious pledge? Well, I have to try.

Nope. Troikans do not try. Troikans do. “Killian—” Zero! “I don’t know your middle name.”

“Niall.”

Killian Niall Flynn. Five Ls. Four Ns.

5 + 4 = 9

Killian Niall Flynn + Ten = 5 Ls and 5 Ns.

5 + 5 = 10

10 = existence. 1 + 2 + 3 + 4 = 10. (1) the FirstKing (2) the Secondkings (3) human life (4) the four elements: earth, air, fire and water.

Ten is completion: the end of one cycle, the beginning of another.

Concentrate!

Oops. My bad. I tend to lose myself in number trivia when I’m nervous. But there’s nothing to be nervous about, right? This is Killian. My Killian. Together, we can handle whatever comes next.

“Killian Niall Flynn.” I wrap my fingers around his wrists as I peer into his eyes. “You found me before the grave and taught me how to live. Until you, I’d known only disappointment and betrayal, but you picked me up every time I fell. You carried me when I was too weak to walk, and you put me first, even when it meant torture and possibly Second-death. For that, I give you my Everlife. Everything I am, everything I have, is yours.”

His expression softens, and I wish, so badly I wish, that my family and friends could witness our union. While my mother is in the Kennel, my father is training to be an ML. He hates me, anyway. My aunt Lina, his twin sister, is missing. No one knows where she is.

Lina can see into the future. As a child, she taught me a rhyme that aided my escape from Many Ends. Only a few weeks ago, she taught me a second rhyme, saving my life when a supposed friend—Victor Prince—attempted to kill me.

I frown. “I don’t feel any different.”

“We aren’t done.” Killian steps back, his arms falling to his sides. “Out of yer Shell, lass.”

I’m confused by the command, but still I obey. He steps from his Shell, as well, gifting me with the sight of two potential husbands. The inanimate Shell, and the spirit man—the real Killian. Usually darkness surrounds him, his own personal veil of smoke. Now the darkness is muted, but there’s no Light emanating from him, either.

He’s so much taller than me, I’m forced to look up, up, up. Scars circle his neck, proof of the pain he’s suffered throughout his Secondlife.

I reach out, intending to trace a fingertip along the raised flesh, but stop myself just before contact. “You’ve been a spirit all your life. Why didn’t you regenerate after you were injured?”

“Spirits are unable to regenerate fully until they reach the Age of Perfection. What you receive as a child, you keep.” He crooks his finger at me. “Come here. I’m goin’ tae kiss ye now.”

A kiss. Of course! A wedding always ends with a kiss.

I move toward him, eager, and he enfolds me in his muscular arms. His lips descend, claiming mine in our first spirit-kiss, no barriers between us, and he isn’t gentle about it. He’s demanding and possessive, pure masculine aggression, and I love every second.

Everything about him makes me think of forbidden nights and carnal indulgence.

I’m burning up rather than freezing as usual, pleasure consuming me, the pain I’m used to feeling nothing but a distant memory.

Realization: We can touch without consequence!

I melt into him, the rest of the world is forgotten as I luxuriate in the sweetness of his flavor.

Now the deal is sealed. This boy is now my husband. And this, our first kiss as a bonded pair, is everything I’ve ever dreamed and more. It’s—

A bolt of ice slams into me, tossing me across the cavern. I collide with the wall and slide to the ground, fighting for breath. Agony sears my right arm. Panting, I look down. Doubletake. An image appears in my flesh, as dark as ink and in the shape of…a horse?

The animal rests under the words Loyalty, Passion, Liberty.

Loyalty to my realm. Passion for the truth. Liberty for all.

The words appeared immediately after my Firstdeath. Actually, numbers appeared. The moment I figured out what those numbers represented, the words took their place.

Why a horse? There has to be a reason. There’s always a reason.

I rack my brain, but all I can come up with—Killian once likened me to a warhorse.

The warhorse paws fiercely, rejoicing in its strength, and charges into the fray. It laughs at fear, afraid of nothing; it does not shy away from the sword. The quiver rattles against its side, along with the flashing spear and lance. In frenzied excitement it eats up the ground; it cannot stand still when the trumpet sounds. At the blast of the trumpet it snorts, “Aha!” It catches the scent of battle from afar, the shout of commanders and the battle cry.

But I’m not here to fight him. I’m here to make peace. Unless…

The moisture in my mouth dries. Ready or not, a new battle is headed our way.

My vision goes hazy, and I moan. I am Light, and I’ve never needed to see more! Blinking rapidly helps, allowing me to search for Killian. The same terrible phenomena must have bombarded him, because he’s slouched against the opposite wall. When our gazes meet, he reaches in my direction, the numbers tattooed on his wrist visible.

143, 10. I love you, Ten.

Beneath the numbers I spy a new image. A horse. A match to mine, though his is white and mine is black.

His eyes are alight with…no, impossible! The flecks I so adore cannot be doused in literal flames, flickering with both light and shadow.

I need to get to him, now, but my muscles are like frozen blocks of ice. And the Grid—

The Grid! My connection to Troika, and a reminder that there is so much more to the world—to my world—than what I can see and feel at any given time.

Shadows dance along the Grid, where multiple doorways loom. Those doorways lead to rooms. In some, I’ve stored extra Light. Others provide a link to the conscious minds of different citizens. One in particular opens up to the Rest, where our dead spend eternity at peace.

A pang of homesickness strikes me. Meredith, Archer and Levi are there. I miss them desperately.

Radiating hatred, the shadows try to sneak into one room after another. I fight to keep the doorways closed as information bombards me. Darkness is measured by the absence of Light. These shadows, whatever they are, must have come from Killian, and our bond, and yet they are so familiar to me…as if they are old friends. How is that possible?

Doesn’t matter. Must…do…something. Now!

Left with no other choice, I change tactics and open a door to one of my storage rooms. In a vivid, dazzling rush, bright Light escapes. Shadows hiss, some dying the second they come into contact with a beam, others slithering away, and, oh, zero, sharp pains explode through my head, and I scream.

Can’t give up. Strengthen in the Light, die in the darkness.

Between one breath and the next, the pain leaves me, and a scene opens in my mind. A memory that is not my own.

I’m standing in a doorway, watching a young couple walk down the center of a hallway. There are thirteen children lined up beside me, all under the age of ten. The couple stops to question a little girl before dismissing her and moving on to a little boy. He, too, is dismissed. The next three children are ignored, but the couple pauses to inspect the teeth of the fourth.

Closer to me by the second…

I’m nervous. I would kill to have a family of my own—literally—but no one will look at me twice. What’s wrong with me? What do I lack?

Easy: absolutely everything.

Once, my superiors thought I was destined to become a General. Everyone wanted me, then. When I failed to develop the necessary skills, the want turned to disdain.

I try so hard, and I train harder than everyone else combined. I learned how to use a sword and every type of gun. Even the Stag and the Oxi, the most dangerous weapons in a Laborer’s arsenal. One day I’ll kill more Troikans than any General in our history. I vow it.

Just give me a chance. Please!

The couple is on the move again…so, so close to me…the woman looks me over and gives an almost imperceptible shake of her head before passing me, silent. My heart sinks, tears threatening to spill down my cheeks.

Me? Cry? Never! I keep my head high. If this family doesn’t want me, fine, I don’t want them, either. They aren’t good enough. I’m better off at the Learning Center, anyway.

The scene goes blank, and I—Ten—blink open my eyes. I’m back in the present, back in the cave, panting and drenched in sweat yet shivering with bone-deep chill. I was wrong. The pain didn’t subside; it ramped up.

The memory…it came from Killian. I know in my heart. Having died soon after his mother gave birth to him, he spent his childhood inside the Learning Center, a Myriadian orphanage.

Humans—both in flesh and spirit form—could be ugly in so many ways. Rotten inside. Vile and cruel. But they were also layered. Pull back the ugliness, and you might see a hurt. Pull back another layer, and you might see a child who used to crave approval, affection and acceptance.

A child like Killian had been. My husband has seen the worst the world(s) have to offer. I want so badly to hold him in my arms and comfort the boy he’d been, and praise the man he’d become.

My gaze seeks him. He’s on his back, pulling at his hair. Like me, he’s panting and drenched in sweat. But he’s muttering, “Kill, kill, kill.”

Kill…who? Is he seeing into my memories?

“I’m here,” I tell him. “I’m—”

My heart stops, stealing my words as a man and woman storm into the cave.

#Gena Showalter #Everlife #book excerpt #ya books #ya reads

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gaypopandlockmein-blog · 7 years ago

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Hands of Time

Pairing: You / Shownu

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 2,820

Genre: Soulmate!AU // Non-Idol!AU

Summary: In a world filled with soulmates, you never really think about meeting yours. It will happen, but the when is harder to pinpoint; unless you happen to have a count down attached to your wrist. Now it’s only a matter of time before you meet them, and you aren’t sure how to feel.

Everybody on Earth has a soulmate. Soulmates can have a timer on their wrists or the red string of fate tying them together; they can have the name of their future partner on them or a small tattoo that matches someone else’s. Since before I, or my parents, or even my great great grandparents were born, soulmates existed in the world, though people never truly noticed that they were being led to said person.

I find myself looking down at my wrist again, watching the timer tick away. I’ve got three days, seven hours, fifteen minutes and twenty-six, no, twenty-five seconds before I officially meet my other half. Dropping my head into my hands, I rub at my temples and whisper over and over to myself that this was pre-ordained. Whoever I meet is going to be the love of my life, for the rest of my mortal existence. A deep sigh escapes me as I imagine all the possible situations.

There have been accounts of soulmates that clashed as soon as they met, even if they were supposed to be together. There are sob stories of soulmates who die before they can meet; tales of ones who meet but can’t be together. The longer I sit here in this coffee shop and think about all the things that could go wrong, I start to feel sick, and shake my head of the thoughts rattling in my brain. This is no time to be panicking over this. You’ve still got a few days, and you don’t even know what will happen. No point in psyching yourself out over it.

“Y/N?”

My head raises at the sound of someone saying my name. I immediately start beaming, standing from my chair and wrapping the guy in my arms. “Oh my god! Hyungwon, what are you doing here? I thought you went abroad for that modelling gig!”

His cheeks turn a slight shade of pink. I wave him towards the table that I’m sitting at, offering him the chance to turn it down if he wants. Hyungwon gives me a small smile, taking a seat opposite me, cupping his coffee between his large hands. Comfortable silence settles between us for a moment before he opens his mouth, eyes drifting around the shop.

“I actually…met my soulmate while I was abroad. I-I didn’t exactly expect it, you know? Threw my whole career into a bit of a,” he sips at his drink before continuing after making a face, “a rough patch, if you will. Anyway, I finished the modelling job there, spent some time with them and then came back home. I’ve got another job running here for a while, but it’s hard to focus when they’re not around.”

I can see as much, since Hyungwon has been looking around this entire time. His gaze can’t seem to focus on any one thing, and the only time it does is when he’s glancing at the phone he set on the table, face up to show the screen. A soft sigh escapes my parted lips as I prop my chin up with the palm of my hand. Leaning into it, I wiggle my brows a little, causing Hyungwon to snort and shake his head, floppy brown hair swishing over his forehead and eyes.

“Well you can’t just tell me you met your soulmate and tell me nothing! What are they like? Are they a model as well? Wait, wait! I wanna see a picture!” I gush, reaching over and grasping his hand.

Hyungwon rolls his eyes, lids drooping in their usual manner as he picks up his phone and pulls up a photo. Handing me the object, he starts talking about their job and what they’re like, causing me to beam at my best friend. The two of us have known each other since primary school, always being there to defend the other whenever someone decided it would be a fun idea to pick on the one of us. It was the one thing that got me through all those years of bullying and frustration from my parents to be the perfect kid.

“Ah, I’ve got a friend meeting me for lunch, so I should be going. I’ll text you later, yeah? Maybe you can meet Shownu sometime soon. If you’re still single and all,” Hyungwon teases, pocketing his phone as he stands and throws out his coffee cup.

I stick my tongue out at him, standing as well and packing up my things. Glancing at the clock on the wall, I curse loudly, drawing the attention of multiple patrons in the shop. I can hear Hyungwon laughing at the door, and an apology falls from my lips before I’m rushing out after him and shoving at his tall frame.

“Shut up! That was so embarrassing!” Brushing some hair back from my face, I chew on my bottom lip as I pull out my car keys. “I’d love to meet one of your friends though. It’s not like I’ve had much time to socialize with anybody outside of my computer and all those people I have to help on the phone. You have no idea how hard it is to care for an art gallery.”

We pause at my car, my arms wrapping around Hyungwon, who returns the hug and ruffles my hair as he steps back. I squint up at him and smile, feeling a lightness overtaking my chest at seeing him again. It feels like ages since I’ve hung out with any friends of mine, especially Hyungwon, who travels a lot. After a minute, I gasp, eyes widening in surprise.

“Wait! Is he a model too?”

The question seems to catch Hyungwon off guard, his face twisting in confusion before registering the inquiry. He laughs, doubling over and clutching at his stomach as he shakes his head. I frown, kicking at the ground and punching his arm playfully.

“Aish! Don’t laugh at me! I want to be prepared if I’m about to meet another attractive model,” I quip, watching as Hyungwon waves his hand and collects himself.

“He’s not a model, sorry. It’s hilarious that you asked though, because there are plenty of agencies that have been trying to get him to work with them.” Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he straightens up and steps back so I can get in my car. “He’s a dancer, usually works with students teaching classes or can be found choreographing for musician’s music videos. I think you’ll like him. I’ll text you later and we’ll set up a good time for all of us to hang out. I might bring Minhyuk and Jooheon.”

The thought of seeing more of my friends has me nodding happily and telling Hyungwon to text me before I pull out of my spot. Waving at him from my window, I glance at the clock on my wrist and shiver. Just three days, Y/N, and then you’ll meet your soulmate.

My eyes flicker down to my wrist again, heart racing in my chest as I realize I’ve got five minutes before I’m going to meet my soulmate. Hyungwon is sitting beside me, fingers flying over his phone screen as he texts someone, perhaps his friend, perhaps his soulmate, I don’t know. I’m so focused on my own sickness rolling in my stomach that I don’t think about it. A throat clears on my left and I turn, seeing Minhyuk with a raised brow staring back at me.

“What’s wrong? You look like you might be sick. Are you not interested in watching this movie? We can always change,” he states, expression worried. It reminds me of my mother’s face when I’m sick and I swallow thickly, shaking my head.

I move my arm over and show him the clock there, watching Minhyuk’s eyes widen in surprise. “Your soulmate is gonna be here?! Oh my god! This is amazing!”

I place my hand over his mouth, hushing him, looking around and sighing out when I realize no one was paying attention. My lips pucker and brows furrow as I give Minhyuk an ‘are you kidding me?’ face, causing him to return an impish smile my way. He mouths ‘sorry’ after I pull my hand away and I sigh softly. Every time someone walks in, I find my gaze falling to my wrist and then jumping back to them, thinking, maybe this is the one.

Of course, it never is, and as the seconds are finally counting down, I think I might explode from the excitement and panic racing through my veins. Just as the time runs out, Jooheon, and who I assume is Shownu, come wandering in. I’m aware that Jooheon isn’t my soulmate, given that he found his own ages ago, so my eyes flit right to Shownu, who tilts his head to the side when he sees me. They make their way up the steps, pausing in the aisle before Jooheon starts shoving his way to a seat beside Minhyuk.

My entire nervous system lights on fire, glancing down to my wrist and seeing that, yes, I am out of time. Returning my eyes to Shownu, I see him look at his own wrist, a surprised expression taking over his features. It’s cute, the way his lips part slightly and how his eyebrows shoot towards his hairline. When he finally glances back at me, I can see his own excitement and worry settle on his face, body stilling briefly. This gives me a chance to give him a once over, taking in his body and features. I must admit, I can understand why so many modelling agencies want to work with him.

He’s got the physique of a boxer, all thick thighs and broad shoulders, clearly muscular underneath the t-shirt and jeans he’s wearing. His black hair is short, fluffing up at the front and standing out against his tan skin and dark brown eyes that swim with all sorts of questions that I’m not sure I can answer. My gaze travels down his face, pausing on the full and pouty lips that are still parted in a small ‘o’ of surprise. A throat clears beside me, reminding both myself and Shownu that we’re at a movie theatre and that there’s a show about to start.

“Umm, Hyungwon, mind if I sit here? I like being in the aisle seat,” Shownu asks, voice deep and slow. It’s obvious he’s thinking over his words carefully, making sure they don’t seem too suspicious or awkward.

Hyungwon glances up from his phone, nodding as he stands and moves to sit on the other side of Jooheon, who’s talking off Minhyuk’s ear as he smiles brightly. Once Shownu sits, the theatre darkens, previews starting to play on the screen, meaning we can’t exactly talk. I chance a peek at him, watching the light from the screen illuminate his face until he glances at me, catching me staring. We both look away, blushing darkly at the fact that we were caught.

As the movie officially starts, I feel the barest touch against my hand, causing me to shiver. I suppose this is taken as acceptance, because the weight and warmth of Shownu’s hand encloses mine, sparks racing through my body at the mere touch of his skin against my own. In all honesty, I don’t remember any of the film since I’m so wrapped up in the fact that I’ve found my soulmate, and he’s holding my hand and…oh wow. Standing out in the foyer of the theatre, I think, he’s even more handsome when there’s actual light; the thought making my heart skip a beat in my chest.

Rubbing at my eyes, I blink a few times, pretending I’m merely adjusting to the change in brightness. The rest of the boys file out after Shownu and I, stretching their arms to the sky and talking about how good the movie was. Neither Shownu nor I speak, occasionally sending a furtive glance at the other before looking away just as quickly. The weight of an arm crashing around my shoulders has my knees bending before I manage to stand back up.

Jooheon smiles down at me, ruffling my hair as he starts to chatter. “So, we’re all going out for pizza and beer, right? I’m dying to let loose, even for an hour. There is way too much going on in my life. How’ve you been though, Y/N? Hyungwon told me that you stopped working at the coffee shop.”

I nod, fighting the urge to find Shownu behind Jooheon. “Yeah, I started working as an art gallery curator. It pays better and I get to spend time with people who have such amazing ideas. Sure, making coffee was great, but it killed my back and didn’t give me the chance to hang out with people and do things with my life.”

The mention of art has Minhyuk going off, talking all about his newest project. Most of the night is spent like this, trading stories about how our futures have been, whether we’ve met our soulmate, and family life. Shownu is quiet much of this time, merely watching me interact with the others with an occasional statement dropped in to seem invested in the conversation. I can feel his gaze on me though, nearly burning through me as I stand up to step outside for a minute and get some fresh air. Leaning against the side of the pizzeria we’re at, I crack one eye open when the door opens a few seconds after me, Shownu stepping out and inspecting the sky.

“It’s a beautiful night, no?” His voice is soft, drifting on the breeze. We stand there in silence for a beat longer before he turns to me, walking over and propping himself against the wall next to me. “I never thought I would meet my soulmate through Hyungwon, of all people.”

Snorting, I nod in response. “Me either. I kind of always assumed it would be Minhyuk or Kihyun, since they’re always trying to play matchmaker for everyone.” My eyes drift to his face, heart skipping a beat when I see how close he is. One of his hands brushes mine, the sparks returning immediately and shooting through me.

He smiles softly when I inhale quietly, eyes raising to meet mine in a question before he laces his fingers with my dangling ones. It feels right, leaving me leaning into him before placing my head on his shoulder. Breathing in deeply, I get a whiff of cologne, something spicy and warm, with a hint of soap. I don’t know how long we stand there, merely basking in the presence of each other before the door bangs open and we hear Minhyuk scream.

“I FOUND THEM! THEY’RE OUT HERE MAKING OUT!” He runs back inside, clearly still yelling about Shownu and I.

My cheeks burn as I hide my face in his shoulder, groaning about how absolutely idiotic our friends could be. Shownu chuckles, his body shaking as he does so, making me smile and bury my head further into his shirt. I feel the pressure of his free hand against the back of my neck, causing me to move away from his shoulder and look back up at him. His gaze is deep, drawing me further into him without noticing my body moving.

The touch of his lips against mine fills me with fire, all the nerves inside me jumping to life. I surge forward, crushing my mouth to his and gripping at the back of his hair, earning a groan from Shownu. The kiss is sweet, despite the bruising nature of it, leaving me both breathless and desperate for more. His fingers slide up to the back of my head, tilting my head and giving him better access as his pressure increases.

I feel his tongue glide over my bottom lip and think nothing of opening mouth for him, an exhale shoved from my chest at the touch of him. We must look like horny teenagers with the way we’re kissing, but I don’t give a fuck, clinging to him as if he was my only lifeline. It’s the sounds of hoots and hollering that make us pull away, both panting with our heads down as blushes burn our faces. The guys all are shouting at us, but we can’t look at them, eyes only raising enough to stare at the other.

“I suppose we should go back inside and finish eating. Something tells me we won’t be able to do that again until we have our first date,” Shownu murmurs.

His comment makes my heart race, fingers still tangled with his as he leads me back inside. The other boys are teasing and poking fun at us, but I’m not listening, thinking only about the fact that this was my soulmate. I think I can get used to it.

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