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Dan grew up in a world of art. Where there was a pen, there was always skin to draw on, and that meant people would be able to walk the streets with art down their arms, wondering where their other half could be. Because Dan lived in a world where you could draw all over your skin and the exact same drawings would show up on your very own soulmate; the person you were meant to be with for the rest of your life.
People were absolutely obsessed with the idea of finding their soulmate. Whereas Dan didn’t particularly care if he found his straight away (Let’s be honest, he’ll find them one day so he’s not in any hurry right now), everybody was a scrambling mess of writing and drawing all down their arms so they could find theirs. That was why most people worse shorts and short sleeves, to show off the ink on their skin in hopes they would come across someone else with the same exact marks. Of course, they could always just write down their name on their skin, but that would be breaking the law.
Rule number one: Don’t write your name on yourself. Apparently it was some superstition that if you cheated life, then you would never meet your soulmate. Of course, Dan thought it was complete and utter bullshit, but people actually believed it enough to make it a freaking law, so he couldn’t do anything about it considering he didn’t exactly want to go to jail.
Dan loved watching the people walk past, showing off their skin like they were so proud of what littered it, even if it was just crappy drawings of cats or even (and Dan had laughed aloud at this one) a hairy penis scribbled on their foreheads. They loved them, loved their marks, loved their bodies because of them, and that made Dan feel a warmth flow through his body.
He was always happy when he thought of how many people loved their bodies just because they had little reminders that somebody will love them one day, and therefore they didn’t have to worry.
Dan always wondered what his soulmate would think whenever he drew on himself. It wasn’t even drawing per-say, but just messy scribblings of words written on his hand whenever he didn’t want to forget something important. He wondered if his soulmate could even read it in the first place, wondered if they were smiling, the corners of their lips pulling up and their eyes crinkling while they tried to decipher what the words were saying.
Currently, it was his grocery list, scribbled words in bright red smearing over his skin (he had to admit, sometimes he couldn’t even read his own handwriting). Milk, eggs, bread, dog food. He wondered if his soulmate would enjoy having a dog, and hoped they liked having a Boxer named Leonidas. Dan may or may not have named his dog after the movie, 300.
A tingling motion on his right arm turned his attention away from his thoughts of Leo. Looking down, he grinned rather fondly at the start of one of his soulmate’s daily drawings. He knew that the people in the store wouldn’t mind, smiling in understanding at the brunette who suddenly stopped in the middle of the aisle as lines started to appear on his skin. They all did it, so if they got irritated, they would be the biggest hypocrite.
He watched in fascination as the lines turned slowly into a drawing of a gorgeous flower, a lily with perfect shading despite the fact that the art was done with a black biro. Dan was always amazed by the artistic ability of his soulmate and how he could so easily create something beautiful with just the flick of his hand. He could watch it for hours.
But sadly, it was over all too soon. His soulmate only did one drawing per day, replacing the most recently faded ones with the new art so Dan’s arms and legs were completely covered in flowers and cartoons of animals and once there was even one that looked exactly like the black and white version of Starry Night, each piece differing in levels of fade.
The magic had stopped and Dan was brought back to reality, where he took out his own pen and scribbled a small heart next to the newborn lily. He considered writing more, but ultimately decided not to because, let’s be honest, Dan’s handwriting/drawing skills were less than par.
He hoped the heart was enough to convey his appreciation for his soulmate and how happy the little drawings made him.
-
Dan was exhausted. He briefly wondered why he’d ever decided to be a lawyer, considering he had to be up at five in the morning for work every day. And today had been an especially bad day. He woke up late, spilled his coffee all over his work pants, therefore meaning he was unable to have his morning coffee, and then he had to change his pants which made him even more late to work. This was followed closely by him realizing Leonidas had decided to tear up a pair of his favourite shoes while he was sleeping and also leave a big spot of wee on the kitchen tile.
Dan definitely deserved some Starbuck’s after a shitty day like today. He left his jacket in the car, rolling up his shirt sleeves to be able to look and see if his soulmate had decided to draw anything yet. He hadn’t, which made Dan frown even more than he was originally, if that was possible.
He couldn’t even feel bad when the barista looked taken aback at the sight of him, hair all mussed and starting to curl, a giant scowl on his face. She must have expected him to start screaming, visibly relaxing when he just muttered out a low, “Venti iced white mocha, please,” along with his name.
He watched her scribbled his name on a cup with a weird sort of haste to her movements, as if she was afraid he was going to yell at her if she moved any slower. Luckily for her, Dan wasn’t the sort of person to yell and he definitely was at least decent enough to explain in an apologetic voice that he’d had a terrible day and try to relax his face muscles into one that was more approachable.
“Well I hope your day gets better!” She chimed, giving him a large grin when he handed her the correct amount of money for his drink. He watched as her eyes wandered over the visible part of his arms, taking in the beautiful artwork that was present on his skin. The way her eyes widened in awe made his frustration immediately flow into the ground, leaving him with a warm feeling inside. “Your soulmate is a wonderful artist,” she breathed.
“Thank you,” Dan replied. His voice was rather proud, even though he didn’t know who his soulmate was. They were so amazing and he hoped they knew that.
Once he was handed his drink, he sat down at one of the tables by the window, looking out at all of the citizens walking past. The streets of London were always busy, thousands of people scattered over the sidewalk on their way home or to work. He let his gaze follow them, smiling at the little drawings they were showing off on their skin. He saw one girl with a portrait of a cat on her thigh, looking like it was posing as an old United States President. There was another man with a smiley face drawn on his cheek, talking on the phone with a huge grin on his lips.
It was then that Dan felt the familiar tingling sensation beginning on his arm and he looked down at his wrist, smiling fondly when he saw the familiar blue ink begin to spread over the pale skin. The motion immediately made him relax, every stress leaving his bones and dissolving into the air. He sipped at his coffee, watching intensely as a table was drawn, followed by a figure sitting down on a chair. Dan nearly dropped his cup when his soulmate gave the figure a wavy fringe, long fingers holding onto a small starbucks cup while he looked out a large window.
Does that mean…?
Dan tore his gaze away from the drawing when he felt a presence at his side, his entire body numb from shock. Of all the days, today was the day he was meeting the person he was going to be spending the rest of his life with.
He looked up to find a pair of bright blue eyes, so blue that they put the sky to shame. They stood out against pale skin and a black fringe that was swept perfectly to the side. The man was grinning so wide that his tongue was sticking out of the side of his mouth and Dan could only mimic his expression, eyes following down the man’s arms to admire the lily drawn there yesterday and the portrait of Dan drawn today, an exact replica that was featured on Dan’s own arms.
“So I’ve finally found you,” the man commented, plopping down in the chair across from him. He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand. “You’re just as beautiful as I’d imagined. If you were a flower, you’d be a damn-delion.” He giggled at his own joke, the tongue poking out once again through his teeth.
Dan chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. “Of course my soulmate would use a pickup line on me when we first met,” he snickered, but he was smiling so wide that it hurt his cheeks. This man couldn’t be more perfect. “I’m Dan Howell.”
“Phil Lester,” the man replied. He reached out his hand to clasp Dan’s in a quick shake. Despite his attempts at not being creepy, Dan couldn’t help but to marvel at how soft Phil’s hands were and how fucking huge they were, despite being slightly smaller than Dan’s own. “I hope you’re prepared to spend the rest of your life with me.”
“I accept the challenge,” Dan replied, sipping at his drink with all of his past worries thrown to the back of his mind.
Today had been the absolutely shittiest day at the start, but it quickly turned into one of the best moments of their lives, one that they would look back on when they’re eighty years old with a smile and a quick kiss on the lips.
But for now, everything starts with coffee and a pen.