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Despite what the books Dan Heng has read over the years say, he firmly believes that it's for the best that he doesn't have a soulmate mark.
He doesn't care about fate, doesn't care that there has never, not once, been a record of a person born without a soulmate. The universe decided to not give him a soulmate mark and Dan Heng is perfectly fine with that. He has lived without one and will continue living without one.
No one knows he doesn't have a soulmate mark. People ask, they always ask, their curious gazes flicking over him like they'll somehow be able to tell where his soulmate mark is located. All he gives them is a raised eyebrow till they back off, muttering apologies and saying they shouldn't have asked and that it isn't any of their business—which, true, it isn't.
Himeko and Mr. Yang don't talk about their soulmate marks. They don't talk about soulmates period. All Dan Heng knows is that their soulmate marks haven’t lose their colour, which means that whoever their soulmates are, they're alive and well. Whether Himeko and Mr. Yang know who they are he doesn't know and doesn't care to ask just as they don't ask him about his soulmate mark, or lack of one.
March is different.
There's a small rose just beneath her left eye. A dual-toned colour of white and pastel pink. Her soulmate mark. She hadn't known what it was when she first woke up, but she's been fascinated with it ever since she found out. Dan Heng has seen her running a reverent finger over it while staring at herself in the mirror, probably imagining the type of person her soulmate is and where they are and wondering when she’ll meet them.
"Do you think I've already met them?" she asks. "Before I was frozen in that block of ice, I mean. Do you think I knew my soulmate?"
Dan Heng shrugs, flips to the next page of his book, his muscles tensing slightly at the topic of conversation. "I can't say. Maybe, maybe not."
March hums, still staring out the window, her knees tucked up against her chest. She's here, sitting next to him and having this conversation, but at the same time she isn't. Her mind is somewhere else, somewhere far.
He opens his mouth to say something, to offer false comfort and platitudes, but closes it before any words can escape. It wouldn't be fair of him to lie to her.
March deserves more than that.
She doesn't get like this often; in fact, he thinks it's the first time he's seen her look so sad and lost. Usually, she's bouncing around the Express, talking about whatever comes to her mind, a smile ever-present on her face. Seeing her like this makes his heart clench because someone as happy and kind as March shouldn't look like this. Ever.
The words sit heavy on the tip of his tongue. He's never told anyone, but he feels like, if no one else, he owes her this. She's his friend, his family, or as close as he's going to get to one.
"I don't...," Dan Heng stops, clears his throat. He feels March's gaze shift away from the void of space to seek him out, her eyebrows furrowed, curious. "I don't have a soulmate mark," he manages.
"What?" she questions, the confusion clear in her voice. "Y-You don't have a soulmate mark?"
He sighs, marks his position in the book and sets it to the side. It's weird talking about this when he's spent his entire life ignoring it, pretending like it doesn't matter and he isn't bothered by it.
"Yes," he says.
"Is that even possible? I read a bunch of books about soulmates and soulmate marks after being freed from the ice, but not one mentioned people being born without marks."
Dan Heng doesn't tell her that the reason why there are so many books related to soulmate marks on the data bank is because he had spent years reading them, trying to understand what made him different from others. What made him so unworthy of something that everyone else is born with. He never found an answer.
He's past that now. It aches, a deep pain in his heart that'll probably always be there, but he's not going to let that define him.
Besides, considering his past, considering what he's done, it's for the best that he doesn't have a soulmate. He doesn't deserve one. No one should have to be bound to him for the rest of their life. No one deserves to be put through that kind of pain.
It’s better this way.
"My lack of a soulmate mark doesn't really matter," he says; a lie. Dan Heng looks up, his green eyes finding March's—there's no pity in her gaze, just plain confusion and the painful clench in his chest eases. He knows she wouldn’t judge him for this, wouldn’t think any less of him but it’s nice to have confirmation. "I don't care."
Another lie, but one that he's been telling himself continuously for the past many years. Saying the words has gotten easier. They don't burn coming out, don't leave a bad after-taste.
March shifts so she's sitting next to him, her shoulder pressed against his. Dan Heng doesn't move, his muscles tense, his hands curled into fists in his lap, his nails digging into the rough skin of his palms.
She hums, says in a quiet whisper, "It does matter. You do care."
He does but it's always been easier to tell himself that he doesn't. It hurts less.
But, maybe he doesn't need to lie to himself around March.
Stelle is an enigma, an unknown variable.
Dan Heng doesn't understand her.
She does the most absurd things without reason—like lifting the lid of any trash can she comes across just because she wants to, and standing outside in the rain so she can feel what it's like to get pelted by cold drops of water. She's read nearly all of Dan Heng's books—when he had asked her why she had just shrugged her shoulders and said why not—and has started buying new, expensive, records to play on the jukebox after she shuffled through the current ones.
Dan Heng takes control of their purchases soon after, ignoring the devastated look on her face and the sound of March laughing in the background.
He doesn't understand her idiosyncrasies, but there's something just so fascinating about her. Dan Heng tells himself that the reason why he seeks her out every time is because he's trying to understand her. It's a poor excuse but he's an expert at lying to himself at this point.
Every time Dan Heng looks at her he finds that he can't look away. He's drawn to her, like a moth is drawn to an open flame. It's becoming increasingly easy to lose himself in the gold of her eyes, the flutter of her lashes, the small smiles that tug at the corners of her lips when she's amused and that make his heart stutter a beat, more so when he manages to elicit a smile from her.
Stelle is beautiful. Beautiful in a way that hurts. Beautiful in a way that leaves him breathless and desperate for more.
The curl of her fingers in his hair, the feel of her skin beneath his hands, the beat of her heart against his chest, the all-encompassing feeling of being on cloud nine when she looks at him with those eyes of hers. Dan Heng wonders what it would be like to wake up with her next to him, an arm thrown over her waist, her face tucked against his shoulder. Wonders what it would be like to be loved by her.
He thinks he loves her. Loves her in a way he has never loved anyone else. Loves her in a way that is all-consuming. Loves her in a way that is infinite.
But Dan Heng also knows he shouldn't. His love is not love; it is pain and unhappiness and more pain. Stelle doesn't deserve that. Someone as pure and kind and caring as her deserves better, so he keeps his mouth shut, keeps his thoughts and his hands to himself.
He tells himself he's content to watch her from a distance, never touching. Never anything more.
That's all a person like him can have.
Dan Heng convinces himself that he's happy with just that.
(He's not.)
Stelle doesn't have a soulmate mark.
Just like him.
That's probably the thing that confounds him the most about her. March has no memories of her life before, but she also still has her soulmate mark. Stelle, on the other hand, is different and it makes him curious as to why that is. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she's a vessel for the Stellaron, but he can't be sure. There are no books he can read that will provide an answer for her lack of soulmate mark. He knows this.
Dan Heng catches the faint traces of disappointment in her eyes when March tells her what soulmates are. The frustration when she realises she doesn't have one, the corners of her lips turned down into a frown. He's noticed that she gets like this sometimes, when she realises that there are some parts of her that aren't considered normal. Parts of her that aren’t considered wholly human.
He hates seeing that look on her face. It makes something ugly twist in the pit of his stomach. He wants to see her happy, smiling. Not like this. Never like this.
"It's fine," he finds himself saying. March turns to look at him, an eyebrow raised and well, he's confused himself. He knows what he's going to tell her, and even though he's only known her for a few days, he finds there's no hesitancy within him. If it makes her feel better then Dan Heng will do it. He'll do anything. "I don't have a soulmate mark either."
"You don't?" Stelle asks, confusion tingeing her voice. "Is that...normal then?"
Dan Heng shakes his head. "No, but you shouldn't dwell on it. It doesn't matter if you have a soulmate mark or not."
Her golden eyes find his green ones. They peel back his layers, one by one, slowly, carefully and expose the truth that he hides inside.
Liar, they scream.
I know.
It's hard not to notice her stares. Her golden eyes follow him, tracking him across the coach, or seeking him out for company after everyone else on board the Express has gone to bed. She lights up when she spots him, the corners of her lips lifting just slightly so when her eyes meet his.
Dan Heng wants to ask her why.
Maybe it has to do with the fact that they're the only ones without a soulmate mark on board the Express, or maybe it's because of something else. It's hard to tell with Stelle. She isn’t as easy to read as most people he has come across.
"There you are," she says, the blank expression on her face melting away and being replaced with that smile that he swears feels like the sun, warm and bright on his cold skin.
Dan Heng has spent years trapped in darkness, alone. Even just having the memory of her smile would have made his imprisonment more bearable.
She bumps her shoulder against his, hands him a sandwich. "I was looking everywhere for you. What are you doing?"
He accepts the sandwich with a grateful nod, and says, "Sorting through the data bank. I wanted to mark everything related to the Aeons and the Stellarons for you for easier access."
Silence follows his answer, and when he glances up, his nerves slightly on edge, he finds Stelle staring at him, an eyebrow raised.
"You don't have to do that."
Dan Heng shrugs, the back of his neck and his cheeks heating up. With so much happening all of a sudden he had just wanted to make things easier for her.
I wanted to.
He shrugs. "I'm just tagging the information. It isn't a lot of work."
It's not what he wanted to say, but speaking the truth is hard. Besides, it's better this way.
"Fine," Stelle says, pulling the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands. "I'll stay and keep you company then."
She rests her head against his shoulder, her eyes falling shut as she hums a quiet tune to herself. Dan Heng goes very, very still, his muscles tense. Her grey hair tickles the side of his neck, and he's acutely aware of the warm press of her body against his.
He tries to focus on what he was doing before she showed up, but he can barely think straight let alone understand what he's reading.
Don't, he tells himself desperately. Don't, don't, don't.
But it's too late.
It's too late to tell himself not to fall in love.
Too late to tell himself that this will lead to anything but hurt.
Dan Heng finds her sitting on the couch in the main lounge, her legs tucked under her, her head leaned against the window and her golden eyes fixed on the stars burning bright in space. She looks beautiful, bathed in the dim light of the stars and the soft glow from the overhead lights.
Stelle looks up when she hears him approach, his footsteps loud in the quietness of the coach. Her face is blank, her eyes devoid of emotion. The fight with Cocolia had left her drained, and he hates seeing her like this.
"You should be resting," Dan Heng says, his arms crossed over his chest.
She hums; a soft, sad sound that digs a sharp knife deep into his heart.
"Couldn't sleep," she whispers.
He knows all too well of nightmares and sleepless nights spent inside your head with nothing to pull you out, so he knows that he doesn't want Stelle to be alone right now. Dan Heng settles down next to her, close enough that her knees are pressed against the side of his thigh. Stelle doesn't say anything about their close proximity, but she also doesn’t pull away. He crosses his arms over his chest to stop himself from reaching out to touch her.
Dan Heng notes the bruise on her thigh, no doubt from the fight with Cocolia, watches, with a frown on his face, as she presses down on it, her mind drifting someplace else. Someplace far away.
"Stop that," he chides, grabbing her wrist and pulling it away.
Stelle startles, her eyes flashing up to his. Her lips part, and she exhales a soft sigh that brushes his cheek and only then does he realise how close they are. A lock of her hair falls in her eyes and Dan Heng's fingers itch to reach out and tuck it behind her ear. His fingers twitch at his side, but before he can do anything there's a sudden burning sensation on the inside of his wrist and he reels back, caught off-guard by the pain. Stelle hunches over herself, her own wrist clutched to her chest, her breaths coming out in harsh gasps.
When he looks down at his wrist his heart nearly stops.
There's a small starburst mark there, a bold mix of green and gold. Dan Heng knows what it is and he knows without looking that Stelle has the same mark on her wrist now as well.
Stelle lets out a soft gasp and he looks up to find a small, soft smile on her face. She's running reverent fingers over the dual-coloured starburst mark on her wrist, tracing its edges like she's glad to have it imprinted on her skin.
Which, no.
"This is a mistake," he blurts out. The words taste like ashes coming out of his mouth, and he feels worse when the smile on Stelle falls. Dan Heng clears his throat and flexes his fingers at his side, trying to figure out how to fix this. He hates seeing that look on her face, and hates himself for putting it there. "I just"—he draws in a breath to calm himself—"I just think you deserve someone better than me as your soulmate."
Saying the words out loud, admitting to being unworthy of her, leaves a bad taste in his mouth but he knows it had to be said. Stelle is pure, caring, and kind. She deserves better than him, and she should know that.
"You being my soulmate could never be a mistake," Stelle says, her fingers wrapped around her wrist. "Loving you could never be a mistake."
There is no hesitation in her voice, no waver in her strong gaze. She says it like it's a simple fact to be acknowledged. A universal truth that everyone should know.
Dan Heng draws in a sharp breath, feels his heart clench. He wants to argue but the look on her face stops him.
Desperate, wanting.
Just like him.
Stelle reaches out, her hands cradling his face with such care and tenderness. Her fingers smooth back his hair from his forehead, travel across the planes of his cheeks, brush over his lips like she's trying to memorise him through touch alone.
Her forehead comes to rest against his, and he closes his eyes and reaches out to grab her arms. To steady himself or hold her he doesn't know.
"Dan Heng." She whispers his name like a prayer carried up to the sky by the winds. "Do you truly think this is a mistake?"
He pulls away, his hands wrapping around hers, holding them with as much care as she had held him.
"No," he answers honestly.
"Then, do you think you're unworthy of love for some reason? Is that what this is?"
He wants to say that that's not true, but the words lodge themselves in his throat, unwilling to come out. Stelle's golden eyes watch him with quiet understanding. She leans back in, the scent of her perfume drifting up to surround him.
"Let me love you," she says quietly, her voice whisper-soft. "You may think you're unworthy of love, but I don't, so let me love you Dan Heng."
"You deserve—"
"If you say I deserve someone better I'll get mad." Stelle sighs. "I fell in love with you before I even got my soulmate mark. It's appearance doesn't change how I feel for you."
Dan Heng swallows hard, his fingers still holding onto hers. The marks on their wrists seem to glow in the dim light. This is everything he had wanted, but also everything he dreaded having. He doesn't want to ruin things between them, doesn't want to lose Stelle.
Because it’s inevitable isn’t it, that one day she won’t love him.
"It doesn't change how I feel for you either," he mutters. At her confused glance, he adds, "I loved you before the soulmate mark as well, and I would have loved you without one, and I'll continue loving you now."
There's no doubt in his mind that his cheeks are red, but it doesn't matter, not when Stelle's are as red as his own, her sweet golden eyes twinkling. She laughs, a soft, warm sound, like the sun peeking out from behind the clouds after a rain shower, and pulls him in closer, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, and her face burying in the crook of his neck, her nose cold against his skin.
Dan Heng holds her, his breathing a little unsteady, his arms coming up to wrap tight around her waist. She fits in his arms like she belongs there, filling all the spaces of him that were empty with colour and light. He holds her close to his heart, afraid of letting go, of losing her to the stars.
He doesn't deserve her, but Dan Heng doesn't think he's ever wanted anything as much as he wants her, and now that he gets to keep her he doesn't think he'll ever be able to let himself let go, even if some day she does let him go.
“My life was empty before you stepped into it. I thought I had everything I needed, but only because I didn’t let myself want anything. And then I saw you, and you burned a hole straight through me. I have never wanted anything more in my life. And then, beyond some miracle that I’ll never understand, I got to keep you, and now, I’m only just beginning to understand what it means to truly want something. Because I want so much now. I want to make you happy. I want to give you the world.”
~ S.C. Stephens