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Peridot doesn't quite know what to think of soulmates.
Sure, everyone's got their own opinion, whether they keep it hidden with lock and key, or are honest and frank- sometimes more than necessary. But Peridot still doesn't know what to think, despite hearing it all.
Maybe it’s something foreign, something that everyone so easily accepted as part of reality. Not everyone was born with one, not everyone wanted one, but some were so lucky to bear a mark on their body that would- supposedly- one day lead them to their soulmate. It could range anything from a symbolistic image, to the first words they would speak to you.
Right now, the mark she'd been born with that bore the resemblance of the ocean- a thin, blue line, curved in a wave in the space between her shoulder blades, and slightly off center- does nothing for her but get in the way of her life plans. Graduate successfully from college, and work the rest of her life, outshining everyone in the same field, and become isolated from social interaction. Easy. Having a soulmate did not fit into that.
It wasn't all bad- having a soul mark in the place that hers was made it easy to conceal, meaning she was less likely to be asked about it. Less likely to be found.
The blonde sighs, wiping dust from her computer monitor as it catches the fading rays of light. There’s only about an hour left to her shift, and while working at a tech shop is, well, child’s play, she would rather be home.
Overlooking the beach, the storefront is stained with seagull shit and seaspray and it’s enough to make her chuckle. Peridot had never been a fan of the beach, the only reason she moved here was for educational opportunities- and the town of Beach City was small, leaving little competition.
It was almost nice- homely, even. The small voice in the back of her mind dares to think she could even get used to this.
Too bad it’s not part of her plans.
Pulling her from her thoughts, the ping of the door opening indicates that someone has entered the shop. Peridot peers around the computer and clears her throat. But whatever she’s about to say falls flat on the tip of her tongue.
Standing in the doorway, decorated in only a bathing suit top, shorts, towel, and flip flops- a common sight, really but something about this is different- stands her newest customer, struggling to comb damp blue hair from her forehead and out of her eyes.
Peridot swallows hard. And her thoughts from earlier, preoccupied with the tasks of homework and chores, fall to oh god not this, as her heart starts to race and her cheeks heat up red.
The idea pops into her head that maybe it’d be best to wipe the utterly flustered complexion from her face, so Peridot brings her hands up to her eyes and scrubs like she’s pushing the tired away, and inhales cool air through her nose. A couple deep breaths later is when she realizes the girl in the doorway seems just as embarrassed as her- though not for the same reasons- and she’s hesitating.
It feels longer than it actually is, but the silence hangs stiffly in the air until the girl huffs, glaring abashedly at the floor, and reaches into her pocket to pull out- her phone.
“Okay so don’t laugh,” she says, and Peridot’s face is heating up again all over at the sound of her voice. “Actually, okay, you can laugh- whatever,” she corrects herself, stepping up to the counter and she drops her phone unceremoniously on the hard surface. It’s one of those shitty, throw-away models, that has the aesthetic of being made in 2010.
“I went swimming and forgot to leave this in my bag. I don’t think any amount of rice is going to save it.”
Peridot guesses this isn’t the first time this has happened.
Admittedly it takes longer than she’d like to find her words, but when she does, shakes her head and stares down at the broken phone with pity.
“So you need a new phone,” she deadpans.
“Yeah. Preferably like, the cheapest one that exists, because it’s going to suffer the same fate eventually.”
“You know… waterproof phones exist,” Peridot snorts, picking up the waterlogged device and watching it drip onto the desk. Then she tosses it into the junk drawer.
“Yeah and they’re expensive as shit.”
This time, Peridot throws her head back and laughs. She’s got a point, and it’s fair- someone as reckless as her, who forgets to take their phone out of their pocket before swimming would not have a difficult time finding a way to break a waterproof phone too.
“Alright- what’s your name?”
“Lapis,” Lapis explains, extending her hand.
“Peridot,” and Peridot shakes it. “I’ll show you what we have.”
Lapis towels herself down, as to not drip on everything more than she’s already done, and when she’s done, drapes it over her shoulder. The blonde tries and fails miserably not to watch. She catches a glance of it and only a glance, as she evades her eyes from prying on Lapis’ soulmark any longer. It’s a string of words on the inside of her palm, but it’s too miniscule to read, and Peridot lets herself out from behind the counter instead.
The two walk over to a display, Peridot leading and Lapis in tow, and she begins to babble about each model. The pros, the cons, and if she think it will outlive its next accidental swimming lesson.
“You aren't from around here, are you?” Lapis asks, cutting Peridot off from her next sentence about how that particular display is subpar. Suddenly image quality no longer matters.
“Uh,” she falters. “No. I'm not.” How eloquent.
“If you don't mind my asking, why are you here then?”
“Moved here for college.” Peridot swallows hard. She's not used to social interaction like this, however she's noted that most all citizens in beach city are kind and would most likely make idle conversation like this if she were to let them. Lapis is the only person she's let chat. “What about you?”
“Oh, I’ve lived here all my life,” she starts, wrinkling her nose as Peridot points at a phone which looks too complicated for her to operate. “It's quite lovely. I'm here for the ocean yknow. It's part of my home.”
Much like the idea of soulmates, Peridot isn't sure what to make of this… conversation. Though not to be rude, she nods thoughtfully and points at a phone on the opposite side of the display case.
And when Lapis cranes her neck to look, Peridot’s heart drops to her stomach.
It's a scar between her shoulder blades, only a couple inches, and slightly off center. She’d be put off by it- jagged, and twisted, surely painful at one point- if it weren't for the fact that the soul mark on her own back is burning.
“That's one nasty scar,” Peridot blurts out before she can stop herself, and then silently cusses.
This causes Lapis to fumble, and stiffen, her eyes widening but only for a moment.
“This thing?” she asks, though it's obvious she knows the answer as many have poked before.
“Yeah I guess. Got it from surfing a while back. Doc says I’m lucky I didn’t break my spine.”
Really, the blonde is sure those graphic details would be horrible, and she has no interest in imaging the way it went down. But instead, her heart is beating up into her ears, swallowing thickly, and her breath falls short. The wave on her back is scorching.
“Well,” she sputters out, squeaky and forced, but better than nothing. “Sometimes the things we love hurt us the most I guess.”
It’s stupid. It’s so stupid and she wants to smack herself in the face until she sees stars for saying that. It sounds like something out of poetry, which she will never admit to reading in her free time, or like the ending of some gut-wrenching romance novel. Where had she even picked that up?
Peridot swears under her breath. A change of subject. Hurriedly, her hand lifts up from her body to grab the phone closest to her to offer as a sacrifice, and she's almost too caught up in her embarrassment to notice how pale Lapis has gone.
“I’m sorry-” the techie begins, the phone slipping from her sweaty palm and falling an inch before clattering back on the case, “-shit. Did I say something?”
“Actually yeah. You did.”
Time hangs heavy in the air as Peridot puts two and two together. The burning in her back, the wild panic in both their eyes, and the way that Lapis stares at the words etched into her hand and her whole world comes crashing down.
Sometimes the things we love hurt us the most.
“Fuck.”
Everything else becomes more interesting, and Peridot finds herself trying to come up with an excuse as to why her eyes are darting everywhere except her shell-shocked customer. But she knows it's useless. Even from day one, there was no way to prepare for this sort of thing, even if Peridot didn't quite want it to occur.
Wordlessly, she turns around and coughs. It's impossible to tell but she hopes she's got the other girl looking as she reaches behind her neck and tugs the collar of her shirt down.
It's a struggle and it's awkward, and for once she resents its placement. But finally there’s acknowledgement- Lapis’ hand tracing lightly over her back, delicate, too afraid to touch. To touch her soul mark.
“Hah,” Lapis spits out and the sudden break of silence has Peridot jumping. “Didn't think it was gonna be someone like you, so good with words. Thought it was gonna be a writer or something, not a tech geek selling me my fifth phone this year.”
“You sound disappointed,” Peridot deadpans, and she's not sure what she's feeling.
“... Sell me a phone I can’t break, and I won't be.”
Without question, Peridot lets her shirt settle again, and she snatches up a phone she knows instinctively will be the best choice. She isn't even aware of her feet carrying her to the register, or how her hands type in the order.
From Lapis’ indifference, she feels less alone in… well… not knowing how to feel.
Lapis pays, and gives a quiet promise of ‘I’ll try not to break this one.’
Her body carries her out of the shop, down the lamp lit boardwalk, until she stops halfway to look out at the ocean.
Then she looks down.
In her phone is all default apps and settings. Save for the one contact titled:
First name- Peridot
Last name- Soulmate (call me, if you want)