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Summary
“In Snezhnaya, it’s tradition to explore your soulmate’s body before introducing them to your family,” Childe starts, pushing his nose into Scaramouche’s scalp. “To see if you’re compatible.”
“That doesn’t even sound real,” Scaramouche says, but his hand is sliding up Childe’s shirt now, too. “We aren’t soulmates, either.”
Scaramouche doesn’t have a soulmate mark. Childe doesn’t care.
