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Jean smiled down at his girlfriend, caressing her hair while she laid on his lap.
Amy hummed in response, reaching to hold his free hand, interlacing their fingers and Jean’s attention shifted to the thread tied between their pinkies, invisible to all but the two of them.
Years ago, he would never have imagined such happiness was possible and, when he first saw the bond, he wished it would disappear.
“What are you thinking about?” Amy’s hold on his hand tightened, making Jean look back at her.
“About how the meaning of this bond has changed since it appeared. When I first saw this, it was almost as if it were mocking me. That I would receive one then, when I had no future to share with another person, neither did I deserve to have. It felt like a cruel reminder of what could have been, had my fate been different.”
Her melodious laughter gave him pause.
“Funny. I also thought it was a mean joke the first time I noticed mine.” With her free hand, Amy touched his finger where the red thread was tied. “For it to show when I was stuck centuries in the past. Our circumstances might have been very different, but I guess neither of us was exactly pleased by this turn of fate.”
Amy had never told him that before. She always gave the impression that having a soulmate was the best thing to happen to her. But, just like to him, it was probably because he was her soulmate.
“When I realized you were my soulmate, I also thought it was cruel to you. You didn’t deserve to be bound to someone like me, who couldn’t offer you what you would expect from a partner.”
“How did you realize I was your soulmate?”
“You were the only other change in my life. And at first I thought you noticed too, and that was why you kept chasing after me. But when we started to actually get close, I realized that was just how you were. And that was good. As long as you didn’t know, you could go home without getting hurt.”
“But I fell in love with you either way.” Amy sat up and kissed him. “Now this is a proof of our bond, even when we are apart.”
“I don’t think this is enough.” Amy turned to him, eyes wide in confusion, and Jean reached out to caress her face, smiling when she closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. “I wanted something more tangible. Something that would make you happier.”
“Happier than I am now? That would be hard. Whenever I am with you, I am so happy that I feel like it will start flowing out of me.”
Since they had gotten together, Jean often felt like that, too. That wasn’t a bad thing. Quite the opposite.
“Then let it flow. You always make the world brighter when you are happy.”
And he would continue making her even happier. Always. And that was probably the best time to start, so Jean stood up, gently pulling his girlfriend along.
“Jean? Are we going home already?”
“No.” He hesitated, taking a deep breath. Not because he wasn’t sure that this was exactly what they both wanted but, for a moment, Jean wondered if his words would be enough, or if he shouldn’t wait for the opportunity to make something really special for his lover. But when he looked into her eyes, inquisitive, a little hesitant, but still sparkling with wonder as she smiled at him, Jean knew the answer to these questions. “Amy. I already told you how much I look forward to tomorrow with you, to all the new things to discover and to new ways of making you happy. Your smiles make even the worst days worth living. You always give me so much love and happiness and I always want to return as much, if not more, happiness. I want something we can share, a bond stronger than fate.” Amy’s eyes widened when he dropped to one knee and started to fill with glistening tears as her smile grew brighter when he took the small box he’d picked from the shop earlier from his pocket. “Will you marry me, mon amour?”
Amy moved fast, hugging him with such force it almost knocked him down.
“Of course I will, Jean. You really… I… How…”
Seeing Amy trip over her own words, Jean chuckled and kissed her. A kiss that tasted salty by the tears, but sweet by the overflowing love they shared.
Jean carefully wiped her tears before putting just enough distance between them to take her hand and slip the ring on her finger, kissing it.
“Thank you for loving me, Amy. For being my light. I love you.”
Her answer was another kiss. Not that same gentle brush of lips from before. A deeper kiss that attempted to convey all the feelings she had failed to put into words.
And Jean understood, because their hearts were in synchrony, beating to the same tune.