Work Text:
Marinette sat down at the table, her quad shot cappuccino calling out to her. She placed the cup down, and tripped over her own feet, falling into her chair. She groaned and lifted herself into the chair. Damn that was embarrassing. She hoped no one saw.
At least her coffee hadn’t spilt.
She really needed to work on being less klutzy. It only happened these days when she was distracted. She had been so busy thinking about drinking her coffee, she forgot to walk properly. She had done it a few times now in this coffee shop. The baristas were likely used to it by now. She pulled out her sketchbook, like she usually did when she came here, hoping to find inspiration in those around her.
She looked up to see that someone else had sat down at the opposite corner. He had pulled out a book and several files. He had a laptop open in front of him. His head was buried in the book, his face not visible to her. She could make out a mop of black hair. He wore a semi-casual dress shirt. Businessman, most likely.
It gave her the weirdest sense of déjà vu. Like she had done this before. Maybe she had sat with him before and never noticed? She did come here a lot.
She tried to get to work as the man got up to get his order from the barista behind her. Order number 142. Black coffee, four extra shots. She went back to her sketchpad not to look nosy. They sat in silence at the table, working and drinking their coffee in peace. But that feeling wouldn’t leave her. She could swear she had done exactly this before, with this exact person.
Regardless of her never having met him before, she felt completely comfortable sitting with him at her table in Gotham of all places. Normally she separated from others, and would have moved if someone sat down with her. She didn’t feel that need with him. It was strange. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought he was a friend that she had met up with to work and have coffee together. She glanced in his direction on occasion, but he never seemed to look up from his work.
You sat down right at the corner of my table
I don't know what it is but I swear I'm feeling déjà vu
Black cup of coffee and a book you're skimming over
You're a stranger but feel closer and when I'm looking at you
She glanced up again after fifteen minutes or so. She needed more coffee. She went to get up and his head raised. She looked into his eyes. Pale blue. Perfect. She had seen those eyes before. She knew she had. He was a complete stranger, but she knew him.
Those eyes had been recurring in her dreams all her life. Had she met him as a kid, and just not remembered? That had to be it, right? Maybe she should introduce herself and ask if he remembered her.
She was going to, but did she dare? His face showed no sign of recognition. It was blank as a mask. Plus, she was nervous. What would she say? ‘Hi, I think we might have met before? Do you know me? Could you be mine? Cause I see you in my dreams.’
Swear I feel you in my memory
I think I've seen you in dreams
Maybe you and I have history
But I don't think you know me
But… wasn’t that what soulmates were? People who had met before in another life? Destined to meet every lifetime? Was that what her dreams were telling her?
Was he her soulmate?
She looked at him, trying to see if there was something about him, something inside him that called to her in a way that no one else had ever before. His gaze had turned to her eyes, and it felt as though he was looking right through her.
Her gaze ran over him again as she blushed at his attention. Sometimes soulmates remembered pieces of their previous lives when their bond was solidified. Maybe she could remember who they were before?
Have we met before?
Maybe in another life I knew you
Maybe if I try I'll see right through you
And I'll remember who we were
The longer they stared, the more she was sure. She knew him. Boy, did she ever know him. She had loved him. She knew she would again. She could feel it. She could trust him. She could open up to him in ways she never had before. He would be able to handle her secrets. She knew.
Around them, people were beginning to stare. She didn’t notice. The crowds around them were a blur. Sound was gone from life. Someone could have shouted her name, and she never would have heard. The world had just stopped.
She was standing up, unmoving. He was staring at her, his book dropped on the table. His lips parted just a bit. She could see the moment that he recognized what she felt in every bone in her body. In some other lifetime, they had been together. She loved him. She would again.
She had found her home. It was hazy, but it was there. Smiles and laughter. Snuggling together on chilly days. Gentle kisses. Shoulders strong enough to bare her burdens.
Have we met before?
Maybe in another time I loved you
Maybe you're the one that I would run to
Don't know why it's all a blur
She couldn’t help but think...
~~~~
Tim entered the coffee shop. It was his regular one, and he had a favourite seat. It wasn’t his usual time, but it had been a long day, and he wanted some coffee before heading back to the manor. He didn’t feel like being teased about his coffee habits yet again. As he got towards the front of the line, a girl tripped and fell over a chair of a nearby table. His normal table. He watched as the girl propped herself back up. The way she fell must have hurt, as she absently rubbed her stomach. Had she winded herself? He felt bad for her either way.
She seemed to recover fast enough, and sat down to work. If she was going to be quiet, he could share a table with her. He liked his routine.
He ordered his coffee and went to sit in the corner opposite her. He didn’t want to crowd her. He was a strange man after all. Any Gothamite would be wary of someone sitting down with them. He made sure to bury himself in his work to not make her uncomfortable.
He glanced up on occasion at her, but she always seemed focused on whatever it was that she was drawing. Her midnight bangs swept in front of her face made it so that he could never get a good look at her face. She wore a simple shirt with cherry blossoms on it, a large M in one corner. He was pretty sure it was made by a designer he knew. He wanted to ask but really didn’t want to disturb her or make her uncomfortable.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he sat down, but he had not read more than five lines in his book. He kept rereading them, not absorbing a word. His files remained untouched. His computer was open, but he couldn’t seem to remember why he had gotten it out in the first place.
He was brought out of his reverie by the barista calling his order. He went to grab it, trying to clear his head. He really did need to get that work done before he went back to the manor, otherwise he would get lost in files for the night.
But there was something about this girl. Maybe it was the endearing way she had looked around to see if anyone had seen her fall. Maybe it was the way she brushed it off despite clearly being in pain. Maybe it was how focused she was on her work, much like he usually was. Regardless of what it was, he felt like he wanted more. He wanted to know her. It was odd. He usually avoided people. He would rather learn about them through research. It was rare for him to show interest in others outside of work.
I sat down right at the corner of your table
For some reason, I thought maybe we had been right here before
Can't concentrate, I just keep reading the same pages
And I don't know how to say it but I wanna know you more
He sat back down, and drank his coffee. He hoped it would clear his head. He was about half done when she stood up. Their eyes connected.
He knew her. He had to. He knew those eyes. Like oceans, or the sky. He had never decided. But they were deep. They expressed emotion like waves crashing on a beach. That smile. He had seen it all his life. Maybe longer. It was a part of him, and he knew it was. It was ingrained in his soul.
Did he know her from somewhere? Had he dreamed about her because they had met when they were younger? Maybe at some gala? They had to have some history together, right? It was the only thing that made sense.
The girl made no move towards him, or at all. She had frozen. Had he scared her somehow? She looked like a deer in headlights. Her eyes were wide with shock.
Maybe she didn’t know him and he was wrong. Or she didn’t remember him like he did her.
Swear I feel you in my memory
I think I've seen you in dreams
Maybe you and I have history
But I don't think you know me
A few moments passed. It felt like an hour. It felt like lifetimes stretched out in front of him. Was it possible? He had heard about soulmate connections feeling like coming home. That somehow you just knew how life would be. Had he known her in another life? It certainly felt like it.
His jaw dropped a bit, his normal, stoic mask slipping a bit. Soulmates? Was it possible? Had he found that one person in his lifetime that was meant for him? That would understand him when no one else would?
His eyes grazed over her, trying to see if he could jog some unconscious part of his mind. Or maybe he was trying to read his soul? See if she was the one? She seemed so familiar… He had to know her. He had to.
His eyes returned to hers, and he felt as though he could see into her soul. It was calling back to him. It had to be. He knew everything about her, without actually knowing anything. She blushed at his gaze.
Have we met before?
Maybe in another life I knew you
Maybe if I try I'll see right through you
And I'll remember who we were
His mind flashed back to thoughts of snuggling on a couch, reading a book. Of working on puzzles together on a table. Dreary days spent indoors by a fire. Exploring the woods looking for animal tracks, discussing what had made them and speculations on where it was going.
It was all there. Yet it slipped through like a sieve. Just enough to know it was there before it was gone. But one thing remained. A feeling. Love. Boy had he loved this girl in the past. His heart ached for that connection with her.
He could tell her. He could explain his vigilante lifestyle. Somehow, he knew she would understand. He could tell her his worries. She would understand his stress. Be there for him. Support him. He could go to her about anything. Unconditional love and support like he had never experienced before in this lifetime. And he would be her rock when she was anxious or embarrassed. They would get through life together.
Have we met before?
Maybe in another time I loved you
Maybe you're the one that I would run to
Don't know why it's all a blur
He began to get nervous. What if she rejected him? Would she do that to him? What if she wasn’t his soulmate after all? He needed to know. He had to know.
No matter his insecurities, he couldn’t help but have one thought…
~~~~
“I think I know you.”
“I think I know you.”
He had found her. His soulmate.
“Hi…” she breathed.
“Hi,” he said, his voice barely audible. “I’m Tim.” He raised his hand to hers. Should he be shaking her hand? He wasn’t sure what to do in situations like this!
“Marinette,” she replied, staring at his hand. She had a bit of an accent.
“I think… Am I your… soulmate?” he asked, his voice full of hope and a lingering fear of rejection.
She was still staring at his raised hand.
Her eyes raised back up to his face. She took his hand, and gave a gentle kiss to his cheek. A French bisou. “Looks like it.” She smiled fondly at him.
“Did you want to get a cup of coffee with me?” he asked, suddenly hopeful. Had he really found the one person who would be there for him no matter what?
She grinned and looked around. A little giggle escaped her. He swore he had heard that laugh every night in his dreams. It was everything to him. He would do anything to hear it again.
Then he snapped back to reality.
Right. They were in a coffee shop already.
“I’d love to.”