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Noelle awakens before her alarm, a rare occurrence these days. She’s sparky and bright this morning, because today is her 16th birthday, the day she gets her soulmark, a specific tattoo- a marking that reflects the essence of your soulmate.
With no time to waste, she throws off the covers and strides over to her mirror. She looks frantically to find where her mark is. She checks the common places, wrists, ankles, and neck, to no avail. Right at the top of her sternum, she finds it, nestled into the central nook of her chest.
Rather confusingly, the marking is faint over her white chest fur, slightly obscuring the design. She observes it, twisting her head side to side. Eventually, she decides it looks most like a small auburn-red heart, donned with a small red headband, and crowned with what looks like… devil horns?
Immediately, a scrawny neighbour comes to mind. Awkward limbs and a cheeky smirk from her youth. An individual with that toothy grin she hasn’t seen in years. She pats her cheeks scoldingly, No, Noelle, I thought we were over this, sighing and resolving to think some more about it later.
Gosh, it’s so vague, she muses, a dainty sweet design, but so confusing. It's a little pattern in her longer fur that kind of blurs it, making the marking vague, and in all honesty, possibly anything.
In one of her low-necked pyjama tops, she fiddles with the differently shaded fur, pulling it into different shapes, giving her a heart with a bow, and then a tail, and an axe, and… Goodness, what if it’s actually Susie?
Noelle considers this for a moment; perhaps she had been wrong.
She checks her phone, the time shaking her out of her reverie and prompting her to get ready—its already 8:28. Lessons start at 8:30. Time had completely eluded her.
With a panic, she scrambles for her clothes, throwing them on with a hurried desperation, and rushes downstairs, grabbing breakfast from the table and bolting out the door.
She arrives at school breathless and frantic, slumping into her seat with a hurried sigh. Being the crux of winter, the AC is on full blast, blowing from a big box that looks like a mechanical hazard- she’s sure it is not safe to have in the classroom. Noelle feels herself already sweating, and she hasn’t even been here a minute. She turns to face the front and tunes into Alphys’s nervous drone.
Alphys had recently moved her to the far back corner, swapping her with Jockington in an attempt to increase his engagement. So far, it has not worked in the slightest. The snake only continues to make stupid comments; little actual substance comes out of his mouth when he’s called on to answer questions.
Furthermore, the seating plan has also decreased Noelle’s concentration a lot. To her right is now Susie, and in front of Susie, Kris, who frequently seem to bother each other, recently having become what appears to Noelle as… friends?
She isn’t quite sure how it happened, and she’s not jealous in the slightest, at all, but it does mean now class is full of distractions. In Susie kicking Kris’ chair, Kris pulling faces at her, Susie snarling, Susie leaning over her chair to whisper into Kris’ ear, her teeth bared and her tongue flickering menacingly… anyways! Yes, Noelle is most certainly now struggling to concentrate in class, and the source of her distraction seems to be looking at her with a confused glance.
“Um… Noelle, you need something?” Susie whispers with a snarl, and Noelle freezes. After a beat, she regains her sensibilities. Gosh, I forgot I was going to ask about soulmarks.
She gestures toward her paper and candy cane pencil, signalling she's writing a note. Susie stares at her a moment, confused, and then clocks it, nodding.
Noelle begins scribing: a small ‘Have you got your soulmark yet?’. She folds it up and, when Alphys isn’t looking, passes it over.
Susie reads it and scrunches her bold eyebrows together, scratching down an answer. Noelle almost giggles, Susie writes like it's painful- a grip on her chewed-to-death pencil that is so abstract and nonsensical it somehow makes writing look like something out of a Salvador Dali work. Quickly, though, the note is passed back.
‘No, my bday is in June, y?’
Of course, she isn’t sixteen yet, the realisation strikes her, leaving her feeling desperately silly, and also desperately disappointed. Noelle’s soulmark was coloured- they were only coloured when your soulmate had also received theirs.
Noelle scribbles a small ‘Nevermind! Don’t worry, just curious :)’, the words came as heavy as writing, although a weight was stuck to the end of her silly candy cane pencil.
The recognition left Noelle to think, however, who could it be then? It wasn’t Susie, maybe… Catti? The thought left Noelle to shake her head, gosh, that would be strange, I barely talk to her…
A sudden movement shakes her from her thoughts. Kris shifts in their seat, dropping their head to the side with a huff, fanning themselves with their sweater, small white goat hairs flying off with each shake.
Kris.
What if Kris is her soulmate? The concept stirs deep in her gut and leaves her tummy twisted. Kris leans on their chair, their head falling back, and catches Noelle’s eye for a moment, in an endearing upside-down state.
Those eyes, sanguine and shining, leave her transfixed for a moment. She stops, rigid and almost trembling, their gaze returns hers, heavy and lazy. Then, they shake their head dismissively, smirking, and turn back to the front.
That look lay lingering in Noelle’s mind for longer than she’d like to admit; they had such a piercing gaze. It had scared her when she was younger, but now… Now something was captivating about it, not to mention their smile, as they had gotten older, it had only grown from cheeky to coy, and from coy to cocky, in a way that now complements their features and Noelle finds so very charming.
Perhaps Kris, as her soulmate, wouldn’t be so bad…
It's only later that day, in afternoon class, that this realisation really gains importance for her.
Noelle, barely holding onto her sanity, is slugging through another gruelling lesson, fogged by an AC raising the room temperature to a scorching oven, which had reduced her brain effectively to sludge. It’s then that it happens.
Kris, again, shifts in their seat, stretching their arms back. They gather the hair off their neck in an attempt to relieve themselves from the horrid hum of the AC. Their hair sits bundled under woven fingers, cradling their head as they lean back, again, on their chair.
They extend out like a cat, their legs locking and trembling with the extent of the stretch, their head falling to the side, into their hands a little. They look so endearing. Noelle tries to stop herself staring, but she finds she can’t help it.
Her eyes note their hands, lithe and slender, skilled pianist fingers, cut with nicks from knife-spinning, a dangerous hobby she never was quite sure why they picked up. From their hands, she notices their neck, droplets of perspiration forming on bare skin, rolling down, over the top awkward bone of the spine, over a small white and icy-blue mark. A soulmark.
Noelle's breath catches in her chest, and she feels herself leaning forward. From beneath the harsh shadow cast by the harsh industrial strip lighting, she can barely make it out. It’s a small blue snowflake, Noelle thinks, framed by what looks like two small dots of white. She attempts to study it closer but further, finding her efforts obscured by hair. Fortunately, Kris drags their hair and hands further up, in a desperate effort to cool themselves down.
It's this, and Kris’s lazy slump forward, that illuminates its pattern.
There, beneath the indifferent beam of the school lights, she sees it clear as anything, a pale azure snowflake, and angel wings, accentuated by the backing of slightly browned skin, that whispers of a lost tan. She feels sure it could be nothing else; in fact, the surety that courses through her gives her a sense of calm and stability like she’s never felt before.
My soulmate is Kris.
Oh gosh, my soulmate is Kris.
After a rocky night of tossing and turning, of brief dreams of scarlet eyes, and soft laughter, Noelle slumps in her chair, strung, sleep deprived and still unsure on her own opinion of the human. Noelle had resolved to think about it tomorrow, the hour ungodly late, and her eyes shutting with each passing moment.
They are sweet, and so lovely, but she’d given up on thinking they could possibly like her back or reciprocate, since they’d drifted so far from her over the past few years. But for them to be soulmates? Maybe she could have a chance, after all…
Susie chucks a scrunched-up ball of paper at Kris’ head, they let out a small “Oomph,” and then suddenly, mimicking injury, clutch at their head in mock pain. This successfully infuriates Susie, she snarls and hurls an eraser, point blank range at them to which they catch in a smooth unbothered motion, and flash her a triumphant, toothy grin at her. She stretches her mouth wide, ominously, presumably to hurl profanities at them, to which they place a finger to their lips, and gesture a thumb behind them, to Alphys. Susie snaps her maw shut, fuming, and Noelle suppresses a bout of laughter at their antics.
Then, to Noelle’s surprise, Kris glances at Noelle and her silent giggles. She averts her gaze, but their smile returns, and they glance at Alphys briefly before continuing to harass the lizard. Susie had shoved her snout, defeated, into the nook of crossed arms, with her eyes glued closed defiantly.
This, seemingly, Kris takes as a challenge, and continues to badger, poke, and even bite at her in an attempt to rekindle Susie’s rage.
Kris always seems to do this to Noelle, sending little smirks and small interactions that suggest they might still hold her in their thoughts. It rekindles her old hope and suggests Noelle’s importance to them- that she might have missed something all these years. But then they always go back right back to normal as if she was nothing to them? Goodness, it confuses her.
At one point, Susie growls quietly in warning, to which Kris glances up to Noelle, again, an incredulous look of pleased surprise slipping between the bangs plastered on their face. Then, they gesture a thumb to Susie, still looking at Noelle, a ‘Get a load of this guy’, implied mischievously in the action. They check again, for Alphys, who turns out, be staring directly at them.
“E-e-excuse me, Kris, uhm, can you not.. maybe, do t-that in uhh, class… p-please,” she mumbles, her weak tone sapping any suggestion of authority from the command, and reducing its effectiveness entirely.
Kris nods, mock-solemnly, waiting until Alphys has turned around again before turning back to meet the smug gaze of Susie. Paying no mind to the lizard, Kris holds their eyes with Noelle’s own, arm slung, leaning against the back of their chair. Kris gestures their head twice in the direction of Susie, and then raises their arms, although they were claws, mouthing, expression unchanging, a simple ‘roar’. Susie, in response, fumes, chucking every item remaining at the human, who is gleeful, laughing with a brilliant smile, dodging and catching every item with a practiced ease.
It's that joy, the cheeky brilliance that convinces Noelle.
The way their body shakes with silent laughter, and their cheeks, beneath the brush of their bangs, how they are rosy with the gentle pink of spring’s sweet beauty. How they move with a skill so relaxed they make dodging Susie’s Mach-5 bullets look effortless, and remain, with a small smile, the entire time.
It's this that convinces Noelle; she has to tell them, because having someone this wonderful as your soulmate is an opportunity Noelle could not miss.
She decides to tell them after class.
Noelle, once the bell rings, rushes outside the classroom and waits for Kris and Susie to exit. The glare of the midafternoon sun streams through distant windows and, combined with the yellow, fluorescent glow of the industrial bulbs, creates an almost romantic glow. Although that may just be Noelle.
Eventually, Susie stomps out of the classroom, her heavy feet echoing a harsh thud with each step, followed not long after by Kris, who is dazed from sleeping through the last half of the afternoon lesson.
Noelle is flustered, approaching them. How does she tell them? What will they say? Goodness, why did she even think to do this…
Regardless, her internal will drives her stronger than her internal thoughts, a desire compelling her stronger than her anxieties, and she speaks, “U-uhm, Kris... I-”, the will had moved faster than her thoughts, she had spoken, but she hadn’t communicated, that part was still squashed, scared somewhere in her chest.
Kris tilts their head at her, and from beneath their bangs, Noelle cannot see the soft gaze that she was granted, only the firm, thin line of their mouth. Oh, Angel, they are so done with me. Why did I think this was a good idea… Just say it, Noelle, ask them.
By this point, they are passing out the front door of the school and descending the steps at the front. Noelle could see Susie not too far away.
“I-I, I just, I just wanted to uhm a-ask, oh Angel,” the strength alluding her, and her own growing frustration at her inability to just say the stupid words, combined to worsen the stutter, “d-do you uhm, ah, uh happen to—”
Kris' deadpan face stares back at her, and all the words leave her, drifting up, up, and away.
“N..n..neevermind…” she squeaks.
And with that, she gallops off, running without a glance back home.
Eventually, she had resolved to try again, after another late evening of mental pacing, she had reached the conclusion that she had to try; she hadn’t even given them a chance to speak!
She mulls it over the whole day, during first period, she stares at them, boring holes through them, borderline blowing them up with her glare. Eventually, however, they had caught her, and she had never glanced down so quickly, nor been so fascinated by the grooves of her candy cane pencil.
Noelle had thought about it during lunch, sitting with Berdly and his squawk, on about something on Dragonblazers, or biology, she didn’t remember, because all of her thoughts had been occupied by Kris.
She thought about it all through the final lessons of the day, not staring at them this time, but still her mind occupied by a foggy cloud of apple shampoo and small smirks.
This prolonged mental exposure to her own internal thoughts had strengthened her own echochamber successfully, and she could feel herself shake with determination, with a strength unbridled to try again. She knows exactly what to say; she would speak like she was acting, it was drama club from grade 3 all over again. She knows how to do this.
So, after class, again, she approaches them, and to her surprise, Kris meets her in the act, heading over in her direction too.
“Kris! Hi, uhm-”
“Noelle,” they interrupt in quiet mumbled monotone, surprising her, “I, uhm, ‘m sorry for yesterday, you wanted to ask me something, I didn’t listen.”
Noelle fumbles over her words. This is not what she planned for, “N-no fahah! It's okay really. I just I um, I didn’t know quite how to say what I wanted to, y’know, and it all just kind of went wrong, and—”
“KRIS TORIEL IS MAKING BUTTERSCOTCH PIE, AND IT'S GOING TO GET COLD IF YOU DON’T HURRY YOUR ASS UP!” Susie roars, tellingly.
Kris meets Noelle's gaze with an apologetic, torn look, their hair falling so Noelle gets a rare glimpse at their eyes, the internal conflict revealed plainly within them.
“KRIS, I WILL EAT ALL OF YOUR SLICES.”
Kris stares at her, looking devastated, pleading, adorably like a kicked puppy, and Noelle is only obliged to give in.
“It's okay, fahaha, you can go, Kris,” she smiles at them, “I can always tell you another day.”
They light up, gratefully, and with a small “Thank you, sorry again, Noelle,” race off to follow Susie for their fated pie slice. Leaving Noelle alone and still without telling Kris about her soulmark.
Her third try, she changed tactics; words had not succeeded, so she would change media.
Noelle, that evening spends an obscene amount of time mulling over the contents of words written on a small piece of paper, which she most certainly should have spent doing schoolwork. It soaks up her evening, each wording seemed wrong, or too cliché, or too cringey or just plain bad, and by the time she felt she had actually written something acceptable to give to them, it was midnight.
Ultimately, she had decided not to confess on paper but rather write a small note directing them to meet her at the back of the school, with no signature, because she knew their curiosity would get the better of them. Another reason was that she was worried that if she signed her own name, they might not come.
Regardless, she plants the note in their desk the next day, but of course, nothing goes smoothly for the poor girl, and Susie picks it up after rummaging through Kris’s desk for a snack. Noelle fumes, never so angry at the lizard before, but she could not say a word for fear of revealing herself and compromising the plan.
She bites her lip and prays that something would make the situation better, and for Kris to be the only one to meet her there alone.
“What’s this Dreemurr? A little love confession? Dude, I didn’t know you had game like that!” Susie waved the small slip of paper in Kris’ face, which, surprisingly, Noelle observed was uncharacteristically frustrated, their jaw tense, and mouth borderline almost scowling. Susie began to unfold it, before Kris suddenly snatched it from her grasp, and shoved it into their pants pocket.
“Damn! Ok… you could have just said so, jeez,” a pause, “Don’t give me that look, dude, it like wasn’t even that deep.”
Susie trudges back to her desk and slumps into her chair.
Noelle lets out a sigh of relief, thank goodness, she thinks, I’ve never felt this lucky in my life. But, before she could wallow in her newfound calm, from where she is propped up by her hand, staring at her desk, she catches a glimpse of movement in the corner of her eye. Kris, note in hand, had glanced back to look at her, and at Noelle’s reciprocation of the gaze, and turned quickly back to the front.
They don’t know, do they? Noelle, puzzles. Regardless, she breathes another long breath of relief, crisis averted, just to wait, the whole day for school to end, and finally tell them.
Finally, on her fourth day on this extended campaign, she tells them, nervous as anything and shaking like a leaf.
“Noelle,” she hears the voice before she sees them, as they turn the corner round to a small alleyway beside the school.
“Ah, K-Kris, you uhm, came,” Noelle fiddles with the hem of her jumper, her ears are flushed red from nerves.
“This must be about, uh, what you’ve been trying to tell me, ask me,” they say, an awkward fumble to their words. A sheepish smile (one of those that they do without knowing quite how alluring it is) graced their features as they spoke. With their usual quiet mumble and that small smile, they continue, “So, you can go ahead, sorry again for not listening to you all the way through.”
“Nono, it's fine, it’s really alright, I said it already, but genuinely, it's alright,” she laughs nervously, her ears flickering once, in an attempt to ease the tension, “S-so, I wanted to ask, you- about soulmarks, y-your soulmark, I mean.”
Smooth Noelle, ambiguous, vague, and so not horribly articulated.
Kris holds her attention carefully, considerate and mild. Noelle, with their soft, encouraging look that she finally notices, carries on.
“I think I like you,” she starts, blurting it out before she can take it back, surprising even herself. Kris’ mouth falls open slightly, but they close it before she notices, a hand coming up to rub at their neck. A small, endeared smile forms on their lips, and they watch, leaning against the chicken wire fence that runs parallel to the wall of the school.
Noelle’s stream of verbalised consciousness continues, “Um, I meant to say that after, oh my, goodness, sorry um, anyways I um, I recently got my soulmark, because it was my birthday, as you probably knew, and I thought it reminded me of you, and you also, I saw, on your neck I mean, that you have one, and it looks similar to mine and I kinda freaked out when I saw it because I thought I liked Susie but I’ve been thinking it over and I think—”
Kris reaches over and grabs her hand, rubbing a thumb over it, smiling even wider, almost disbelievingly.
“You talk a lot, it's cute, but I just thought you should know I get it, I knew it was you.”
“You knew?”
“Yeah.”
Noelle’s dumbfounded look must be funny, because Kris starts giggling, and all the nerves that had been bundled up in her gut melted away. Kris likes her, Kris really likes her, she feels like she has just discovered Atlantis, her own secret, a hidden world of pearly hopes only for her to find and treasure.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” She asks.
“Didn’t think you’d believe me,” they are still smiling, chuckling to themselves, “Besides, thought you liked Susie.”
“Oh, gosh, well that makes me feel awfully silly.”
Kris smiles at this, still holding her hand. They give it a little tug.
“So, wanna come with me to QCs?” They query.
“I would love to,” she replies, like there’s nothing easier.
Like that, they slip into a practiced ease, carried by Kris’ teasing jokes and Noelle's flustered admonitions, just like it had always meant to be.