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“Your soulmate is dead, Derek.”
The boy barked right in his face and Derek watched him with furious eyes, clenching his fingers into a fist, shaking.
He didn’t exactly understand the meaning of the word - dead, he was only four, but when it was getting thrown at you in the middle of a fight, like some stone, then it definitely wasn’t going to be something good.
Before Derek could get his senses back and act on his instincts, he was dragged away from the bullying boy by his class teacher. As Mrs Martin soothed him with calm words and then warned him in a firm tone, Derek could only stare at the tan skin of his wrist, unconsciously rubbing a thumb against his pathetically blank wrist.
When your soulmate’s first words to you were supposed to be tattooed on your wrist, a blank wrist was quite intriguing and an open invitation to be teased.
Derek’s wrist was missing a soulband.
Every single person in his acquaintance had a soulband, God!, even Greenberg had a soulband, then why not him? Derek wondered.
Derek’s mom tried to convince him by suggesting a few possibilities. One of them sounded quite convincing - maybe, his soulmate was yet to be born.
When Derek didn't budge, his mother tried diverting his mind with some poetic stories about how our loved ones would turn into stars after life, always shining in the sky, always readily available when you missed them the most.
It was a lie. He understood two years later when his grandma passed away and he couldn’t find solace in the midst of the gloomy, dark sky. He’d cried his eyes out for three days straight. He missed his grandma. He missed his non existent soulmate even more.
When he turned fourteen and still didn't have the soulband, the ‘soulmate was yet to be born’ option was almost completely ruled out. He was sure he wasn't going to meet his soulmate. Ever.
As the years passed he witnessed Laura chewing his ear off, screaming about meeting her soulmate in summer camp. He watched with amused eyes while his baby sister recognized her soulmate when his friend Isaac addressed her - “Hello Tora” instead of Cora.
The elders of the family always shared funny, mesmerizing stories about meeting their other halves. Of course, Derek liked listening to those, even when he’d heard them before. He was happy for every single person around him, but sometimes he felt lonely...and hollow, as if he was missing his soul and not just some stupid mark of a soulband.
He met Kira when he turned sixteen.
She was the sweetest person he’d ever come across. She had the heart of a cupcake and the charm of a fox. And most importantly, her wrist was blank.
They both immediately clicked over their non-soulband bond. It was Kira who showed him the other side of life, the not so pathetic side.
“Everyone can’t have a dreamy romance, Derek,” she had said. “But that doesn’t mean you have to stop dreaming.”
Over a year Derek watched her silently blush at the slightest mention of Scott’s name, who apparently shared a soul bond with Allison.
Derek’s heart twisted in his chest for his best friend. But the smile on Kira’s face never faded. She was perfectly okay having Scott as just-a-friend. She was glad having him in her life in any way, Derek knew that.
Then one day he heard the news about Allison moving to France, leaving permanently, never to return.
Derek couldn’t make up his mind whether to feel happy for Kira or to feel bad for Scott.
Derek watched Scott sulking over his soulmate’s absence for years and for the first time, Derek felt lucky for having a blank wrist. He’d rather that than looking at a soulband everyday, every single minute and breaking piece by piece over what he could never have. It was Kira who helped the boy to heal his shattered heart.
Derek was the happiest person when, finally, Scott asked her on a date, even happier than Kira was. Derek felt as if something might have mended in his own heart.
******
“Please don’t tell me you forgot the passes.” Kira warily looked at him, raising her hand to fix the tiny spikes of Derek’s hair.
“I uh...” Derek searched his suit pockets, one more time. God! It was summer and he was already feeling frustrated about having to wear these thick clothes. He hadn't even gotten a chance to look at the passes before leaving for the Central auditorium for the charity show.
Scott and his best friend were active volunteers of the charity and Scott had invited Kira and her best friend to attend the show.
Derek loathed the day he’d agreed to this the moment Kira asked him to dress up in smart clothes. It looked like it was a big deal for Scott, so obviously it was for Kira. Derek hadn’t even paid attention to her when she’d excitedly spoken about the event and how Scott’s best friend - st...sti...Stiles, right! - was performing in the show.
“Got it,” Derek shouted in relief, handing over the closed envelope into Kira’s safe hands.
They entered the dining hall where the organizers had arranged pre-show snacks.
Derek was literally sweating in the heavily crowded area. He loosened his tie and pretended to enjoy the food on his plate.
For Kira. For Kira. For Kira, he mentally recited.
He scowled at everyone who came within two feet of him, before his eyes caught the sight of a boy, hungrily stuffing an entire burger in his mouth. Derek swallowed, feeling sorry for his poor throat.
After that, Derek couldn’t take his eyes off the amber eyed boy. He was wearing tightly fitting black and white clothes, a mime artist then, who even wore half-finished make up, probably in his rush to get to the food. Derek couldn’t help but notice the way his cosmetic blushes turned even deeper pink, sinking in the irritating heat. So far, he’d completely spoiled his dark red lipstick, eating it along with his burger, licking his lips. Derek literally had to snatch his gaze away from those smudged, bow shaped, perfect lips.
For Kira. For Kira. For Kira…What was he doing?
He got up from his seat to dump his already empty plate in a bin. He tried to indulge himself by fetching an icy coke can. At that moment, he wouldn’t have minded taking a snow bath.
The moment he turned around from the counter in his haste to find some cool space, he collided with an extra-large glass of chocolate milkshake, sticky, wet and Ah...cold. At least something was in his favor.
He grudgingly looked down at his ruined suit as the milkshake seeped through the silky material of his shirt, Perfect. He jerked his head up to face the owner of the drink.
It was the mime artist, of course, who gaped at Derek's damaged clothes. He was looking him up and down, his hands flailing everywhere, his eyes wide.
“Aren’t you even going to say sorry?” Derek hissed at him.
The boy blinked, looking completely taken aback for a moment. Then suddenly, he creased his eyebrows as if he’d tasted something pretty sour. He twisted his palms in weird directions, dancing his long, slender fingers right in front of Derek’s face, making him take a step back.
“Stiles!”
Suddenly Kira was there, moving into the space between them. “Hey, hey, what happened? Why are you calling Derek an asshole?”
“What? Me? Ass-” Derek’s mood was ruined, just like his suit. He stepped closer, trying to push past Kira. “He didn’t even apologize.”
“Derek!” Kira gasped. She gripped his elbow, tugging him a few steps away.
“What?” Derek couldn’t understand why Kira was giving him the disappointed-mom looks and not saying anything to the real culprit, who just stood there, clenching his jaw, shooting angry glances at Derek.
“Stiles can’t speak, you dafoos.”
Kira’s words felt like a tight slap. He hadn’t uttered a single word, silently listening to her rambling. “We’re at a charity show organized by the Deaf and Mute school. I told you Stiles was performing. Did you even listen to me?”
Fuck!
Derek really, thoroughly felt like an asshole now.
It took him a few moments to gather the courage to glance at Stiles. He was still squinting at him.
“I uh- I’m sorry,” Derek replied to Kira, but held Stiles’ gaze.
Stiles eyes fluttered into something soft. He nodded, immediately accepting Derek’s apology.
Kira moved towards Stiles then. Derek lingered behind her back, hesitantly watching them share a conversation using sign language. Kira used her words, so Stiles was able to hear at least.
“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god,” Kira started squealing suddenly. “Derek!” she turned, wrapping her arms around Derek's neck, crazily jumping on the spot.
“Kira?” Derek was scared.
“Stiles’ saying...he’s saying,” she struggled to catch her breath. “He’s your soulmate, Derek.”
Derek felt as if lightning had struck his brain. He felt numbed.
He wasn't supposed to have a soulmate. Hell, he thought his soulmate was already dead, without saying his first words to him. And then everything started making sense.
When he looked at Stiles again, the boy was scratching the back of his neck, gazing at Derek with warm, shy eyes. Derek’s eyes followed his action, tracking the distinct, dark words etched on the boy’s pale wrist -
Aren’t you even going to say sorry?
And for the second time now, Derek felt lucky for having a blank wrist.
“You're an asshole” wasn't quite the soulband that Derek wanted to carry on his wrist all his life.
******
It took Derek a few minutes to learn the sign language for - I Love You.
It took him three months to gather the courage to show it off to Stiles.