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There is at least one thing every child knows by the time they reach the age of five: they have a soulmate. No-one knows where they came from or how but they just do. Nearly every child is born with a black mark like an ink stain somewhere on their body. When they touch their soulmate for the first time it will be where the mark has indicated and the mark will turn from black to their soulmate's favourite colour.
Some are born without them but they are rare and still find fulfilling lives on their own, with close friends or with others without a soulmate.
The most common placements for marks are the hands. Many people with these marks shake the hand of everyone they meet in the hope they get lucky and find their match.
Many have more… interesting placements. Some grow up sad, believing they have no soulmate. That is until someone reaches up and strokes their inky black hair only for it to burst into colour. Some have them on more intimate parts of the body and they dread the day they'll inevitably have the encounter which leaves them brighter than before.
Then there's Virgil's mark. Some days he wished for something easy, like something on his hand or shoulder. He'd even settle for a leg! But, unfortunately, things can't always be easy. Sometime you have to have your ink-like mark smeared under your eyes making you look like you haven't slept for your entire life.
When he was in elementary school, Virgil would have adults come up to him and ask if he's been sleeping well. He would sigh and tell them it's his soul-mark. They would say 'Oh' and gave him a strange look he was never able to decipher.
When he was in middle school, Virgil would have teachers angrily stomp up to him in the halls to tell him to wash his face as make up wasn't allowed. He would sigh and tell them it's his soul-mark. They would say 'Oh' and give him a look of what seemed to be confusion.
When he started high school, Virgil would have people, mainly bullies, come up to him and ask if he was a depressed emo. He would sigh and tell them it's his soul-mark. They would say 'Oh' and give him a look he now knew was pity.
Eventually, Virgil decided 'Fuck it'. If everyone was going to assume he was emo anyway, he might as well lean into it. When he told his dad, he was surprisingly supportive.
When Virgil asked why his dad replied that, "Embracing it is much healthier than the repression you've already tried."
Virgil cringed at that. Towards the end of middle school, he began to grow angry about the idea of soulmates. Why was it the universe's business who he loved? He tried everything to cover up his mark; concealer, foundation, eyeshadow, even paint (which his dad was not happy about). None of it worked.
He soon found out that, apparently, this wasn't an uncommon thing. Many children his age felt the need to rebel against the idea of soulmates, particularly those with negative experiences with them. Children learn many things from their parents so if a child witnesses an unhappy relationship between soulmate parents, they are likely to develop a negative association with soulmates.
Virgil's parents didn't have an unhappy relationship. In fact, they loved each other, they were perfect soulmates. However, Virgil's mother died when he was very young. His father's mark became dull and muted, almost becoming the same black it had begun as. At first, Virgil was horribly, irreversibly sad. Then that sadness festered and grew to anger and hatred. Why would the universe put together two people, knowing one would leave the other far too soon?
Thankfully, Virgil's father, Emile, helped him through these feeling and showed him that a negative attitude to soulmates wasn't healthy. That's why he was happy at Virgil embracing his mark. The therapist was glad his son could accept himself for who he was.
However, his new aesthetic did come with some side effects. Most notably keeping other people far away from him. Generally, Virgil didn't mind this, he was quite introverted and preferred to be alone most of the time. In fact, he was sometimes glad for it, people not wanting to be around him helped him avoid awkward conversations, such as the placement of his soul-mark. The isolation did get to him occasionally but on the whole he was fine.
Although, there seemed to be one person immune to his scary, off-putting looks. And that was Patton Hart. Of all the people expected to approach the shadowy teenager brooding in the corner, no-one anticipated it would be the embodiment of sweetness himself. Even more unexpected was how close they became. In only a few weeks they were best friends.
Patton was one of the people with an someone else's upside down hand print on his own hand. Due to this, he had begun to greet everyone he met with an enthusiastic handshake, each time hoping they would be the one. He did eventually meet his other half in the form of Logan Croft, someone who also greeted everyone with a handshake, although his were typically a lot calmer.
The three of them became extremely close, only growing closer when joined by the fourth member of their group.
Virgil met Roman in English class. It was the first day of the new year and Virgil was already way too tired and worn out. He was resting his head on the desk, using his arms as a pillow while waiting for class to start when he heard someone clearing their throat above him.
Looking up, Virgil saw one of the most handsome people he'd ever seen leaning towards him and smiling. He was thankful most of his face was still hidden by his arms and the desk so this guy wouldn't see his intense blush.
"Hi, is this seat taken?" he gestured to the seat beside Virgil.
"N-no," Virgil stammered out. Get yourself together, Virgil, now is not the time for a gay panic!
The guy looked relived and sat beside him. He smiled once again and said, "I'm Roman by the way."
"Virgil," he smiled back.
"Lovely to meet you, Virgil," He shot him a dazzling, pearly smile and Virgil had to quickly turn away. Thankfully, class started soon after that so he didn't have to look at Roman for much longer.
After class ended, Roman spoke to Virgil again, "I don't know if this is a little soon but, would you mind if I joined you at lunch? I'm new here so I don't have any friends yet."
"Oh! Yeah, that's fine, I'm sure the others won't mind."
And so began their friendship. Despite how close they all grew, Virgil couldn't help but feel different around Roman compared to Patton and Logan. It was like he was… waiting. Waiting for something more. The problem was that he didn't know what that 'more' was.
From the outside, you might not think that Roman and Virgil even liked each other. Their constant banter and mean nick-names made people outside their group believe the two hated each other but that was their way of expressing affection.
Strictly platonic affection, that is. After all, they weren't soulmates… at least Virgil didn't think they were. Surely they must have touched each other at some point in their friendship. After all, Patton was constantly giving hugs, squeezing hands and shoulders for reassurance. Even Logan, the most touch averse person Virgil had met had given small pats on their shoulders or brushed knuckles while reaching for something. So surely, surely, Virgil and Roman must have touch at one point.
The problem was that Virgil couldn't remember it ever happening. It must have been something small so that he didn't remember. Because Roman wasn't his soulmate. He wasn't…
No matter how much Virgil wanted him to be…
***
It seemed like any other mundane evening. Roman was over at Virgil's house studying for English. They'd been at it for hours and getting rather tired.
Roman looked up wearily from his book filled with nonsensical analysis of the poem they were studying. With a sigh he shrugged and said, "I don't know! I guess you could say that the adverb implies-"
"Wait," Virgil interrupted, "What's an adverb again?"
Roman sat up straighter, "Hold on, you don't know what and adverb is?" Virgil shrugged and Roman gasped, "Are you serious, Virge? We learnt that in, like, elementary school!"
Virgil rolled his eyes, "Well sorry I don't remember every pointless little thing we learnt back then! I was a little distracted in elementary school."
Roman scoffed, "Why?"
"My mum died,"
"Oh," Roman grew quiet as the energy in the room shifted, "I'm sorry."
"Nah, it's fine. Well… it's not fine but…Don't worry about it. It was forever ago. Besides, you didn't know."
Roman sighed, "Let's take a break, I'm getting tired."
"Agreed," Virgil yawned and lay down on the floor. Roman lay next to him and Virgil shut his eyes, letting the exhaustion wash over him.
After a few minutes, he heard a voice, "Hey, Virge?"
"I'm asleep, shut up," Virgil groaned back.
"Oh come on, Count Woelaf, I just wanted to talk,"
Virgil cracked open an eye, "About what?"
Roman grew quiet for a moment, "…soulmates?"
Virgil sat up and raised and eyebrow, "Why that?"
"I've just… I've been thinking about something for a while and I wanted to know what you thought."
Virgil gave an exaggerated smile and eye roll, "Go ahead, Sir Sing-a-lot."
Roman huffed, amused at the nick-name, "Do you think… do you think it's okay to love someone who isn't your soulmate?"
"In a romantic sense?"
Roman nodded.
"I think so."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Lot's of people fall for people who aren't their soulmates. They even end up marrying each other sometimes. And even if you don't work out together, it's nice to explore for a bit to find how you act in a relationship and be happy together for a while."
Roman was stunned, "That was… really nice, Virgil."
Virgil shrugged, "I may or may not have been thinking about it as well."
Roman looked down at his hands, rubbing his thumbs where there were two identical black marks, like he'd stuck the pads of his thumbs into a bottle of ink, "Well, in that case… would you mind if I showed you something I've been working on?"
Virgil sighed with a smile, "If you must."
Roman smirked and dug around in his bag until he produced a notebook. It was one Virgil had seen a few times before. Often he would see Roman doodling or writing little notes in it. He'd often wondered what was inside.
He opened to a page that had been bookmarked and looked uncharacteristically nervous, "I, um, I wrote a poem and I wanted to know what you thought about it."
"Oh," Virgil was taken aback, "Uh, sure, go ahead."
Roman smiled unsurely and looked at the paper, "It's really bad…"
Virgil scoffed, "Just read it."
Roman cleared his throat,
"Half of your soul belongs to another,
But everyone will find there other.
You are connected, woven like twine,
So why can't you be mine?
I've seen the beauty of your mark,
The contrast between the light and the dark.
Harsh against the fairness of your face,
A beauty as remarkable as the vastness of space.
Though I do not resent my future lover,
It is your face in colour I wish to cover.
While I'm sure he'll be a fairytale come true,
Oh how I wish and wish it could be you!"
Virgil was silent. Roman looked to him hesitantly, worried he hated it.
"Wow. That was beautiful, Roman."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I mean it!"
"Sorry, I just… I expected you to be cynical about it, you aren't usually this… nice,"
Virgil raised an eyebrow, "You want me to be mean? Fine. You used the wrong 'there'."
"Huh?" Roman looked at the poem. Sure enough, in the second line he used 'there' when he meant 'their', "How did you even notice that? You weren't reading it you were listening to it!"
Virgil smirked and shrugged his shoulders, "Guess I'm just that amazing."
Roman scoffed, "Sure you are, Hot Topic."
"Genuinely though, it was really good. And I'm sure who ever you wrote it for will love it too."
Roman looked up at him, confused, "Huh?"
"Oh come on, you clearly wrote that for someone. That's why you asked me about loving someone who isn't your soulmate, isn't it?"
"Yeah, you're right,"
"And I know that, whoever they are, they're going to love it,"
"You think so?"
"I know so,"
"What if they don't realise it's a love confession?"
"Well then they are too stupid to appreciate good art and you should find someone else,"
Roman snorted, "Maybe…"
"Why don't you go and read it to them before you chicken out?"
"Like, right now?"
"Yeah! Go!" Virgil encouraged him with a smile.
"Oh, okay," Roman stood and grabbed his back. Before he left the room he turned back to Virgil with a soft smile, "Thank you, Virgil."
He gave a small salute, "Good luck, Princey."
As soon as his door clicked shut, Virgil let his smile fall. He thought he'd done a pretty good job of pretending to be happy for him. Once Roman left, he let the tears that had been welling up fall and run down his cheeks.
How could he be so stupid! Of course Roman had found somebody for him. He couldn't believe how idiotic he'd been to hope that Roman liked him back. Instead, he'd fallen for somebody who deserved that beautiful poem. At least he'd been lucky enough to hear it once and could imagine it had been written about him.
He wrapped his shaky arms around himself in a pathetic attempt at a hug. He held himself as the tears continued to pour. He briefly glanced at the mirror. It must look quite strange how the dark circles under his eyes didn't smudge from the tears like normal make up would. Just another reminder of how alone he was.
Eventually, Virgil was broken out of his spiral of self-pity by the door opening.
"Hey, sorry I forgot my-" Roman entered the room but froze when he saw him, "Virgil? What's wrong?"
He rushed forward and knelt in front of him. Virgil sniffed, "It's stupid."
"If it's bad enough to make you like this, then it's certainly not stupid."
"I just… I just," Virgil sniffed, interrupted by sobs.
Roman's face softened, "Here, let me help," he reached up, using his thumbs to wipe underneath Virgil's eyes to clear his tears.
They both froze. As they looked each other in the eyes, they knew.
Internally, they felt something shift. Like the final piece of a puzzle slotting into place. Like the final knot coming undone. Like a key undoing a lock.
Complete.
Meanwhile externally, a small light appeared around both of them as their marks shifted away from the inky blackness which had plagued them their whole lives. Roman looked to his thumbs as they shifted to a bright, shining lilac. Virgil looked across his room to his mirror. Under his eyes had shifted to a dark, fiery vermilion.
"Oh my god," Roman muttered.
"We're…"
"Yeah,"
"Oh my god!" Virgil's mouth hung open.
"That's what I said!"
Virgil laughed incredulously, "I can't believe it!"
Roman cupped Virgil's cheeks, running his thumbs across his skin, "I desperately hoped it would be you."
"You did?" Virgil frowned, "What about the guy you wrote that poem for?"
"Virgil, that poem was for you!"
Virgil face palmed, "I'm such a idiot!"
Roman smirked, "Well, you're my idiot."
Virgil scoffed and pushed him away, "That's so stupidly cheesy!"
Roman laughed. Virgil rolled his eyes and moved over to his mirror. He tentatively touched the colour under his eyes.
He gave a small laugh, "You've kinda ruined my aesthetic, Princey."
Roman moved over to join him, "I don't know, I think red's a good look on you!"
Virgil sighed, "Yeah, guess I'm going to have to get used to it."
"Oh, I didn't mean the red under your eyes, I meant the blush on your cheeks!"
Virgil scowled and pushed him over, attempting to hide how he grew even redder. Roman laughed as he landed on the floor and Virgil smiled, joining him.
They sat in silence for a moment, staring lovingly into each other's eyes.
"Can I… can I kiss you?"
Virgil wanted to reply with some kind of snarky remark but all he could muster was a quiet, "please."
It felt magical, nearly as magic as when their soul-marks bonded. It didn't last long, only a few seconds but to them it felt like longest few seconds in the world.
They fell into a sweet, warm embrace and stayed there for ages. To them, it felt like they were the only people in the world. But to the world, it felt like everything had just grown just a tiny bit brighter.