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Soulmates had always been the talk of the nation: first the popular press had sprinkled it in stories here and there. Then it grew to cover stories, made its way to the people, always the whisper on the other’s breath.
But when it got picked up by politicians, it swirled and grew until it became something almost unrecognizable. The idea of instant gratification and entitlement formed on their tongues after Kam Kimmelton had a record-breaking 36-hour engagement. And, ironically enough, Dick Thamp, the businessman-turned-politician that had had more wives than good ideas, was the first one to let the suggestion fall from his mouth: to protect the sanctity of marriage and love and “all that was good”, he had said, it should be illegal to be with anyone other than your soulmate. No marrying anyone else, no dating anyone else, no kissing anyone else.
And with those words, he molded opinions until it fell into law, millions of dollars put forth, all other endeavors long forgotten. All in the name of protecting the children.
When Zayn was eight years old, he’d first heard the term. He was playing by himself, whacking a bouncy ball against the pavement as hard as he could and watching the rubber fly into the sky.
Who do you love? Who do you love?
Your soulmate is a dove
The rhyme rang out a couple of times from behind him, the sicky sweet sing-song voice coming from one of the cruel nine-year-olds’ mouths, smirking as he held out the last word.
Not a profound rhyme by any means but second grader Zayn remembered it well, remembered the pout that had quivered on his lips, thankfully out of sight from the other boy. He may not have known what the words meant, but he understood the taunting tone behind the words—knew that whatever the rhyme meant wasn’t a compliment.
On the car ride home, he stumbled on the word, even after his mind had played the rhyme on repeat all day. “Mum, what is a…” His tongue slid around the unfamiliar syllables. “Soulmate?”
His mom was quiet for a moment, only a gulp making its way down her throat as she tried to decide how best to explain the complexity in simple terms. Knowing full well what would be in store for Zayn in only a few short years.
“A soulmate, err,” she started, stalling a bit for time. “Is the person you’re meant to be with. The one that is the other half of your whole, to speak.” She cringed at the cliché words leaving her mouth, realizing how similar she sounded to the political ads all those years ago. “Like…” She tried to think of a better way to explain, one that didn’t sound so forced. “Like the other half of your heart, the one that keeps it beating.” She muttered, not entirely pleased with her own answer but not quite sure how to explain it better.
Zayn didn’t seem too preoccupied with her answer, though, cause after a moment of silence from the backseat she heard another question come from the boy’s lips. “Mum, what does it mean that my soulmate is a dove?”
And she sighed then, knowing the offensive rhyme well. How could she possibly explain to her child that some bully was saying he’d end up alone forever? How could she tell her own son that his soulmate was just a pretty little bird? She shuddered at the thought, but explained to the best of her ability, trying her very hardest to get it through Zayn’s head that the rhyme wasn’t true. None of it was true.
At his frown, a silent tear sliding down his cheek, she suddenly wished she could take back all of her explanation, wished she could take back this whole conversation. Wished that for just a little bit longer she could stop what was inevitable.
When Zayn hit puberty, his questions only progressed to the next level. “How do you know who your soulmate is?” He had asked, biting his lip, now able to look over at his mom since he was old enough to sit in the front seat.
“You’ll know” is all she said simply, knew that was the protocol and following anything different would spell trouble for her and her family.
“I’ll know? How will I know?” Zayn pressed, eyes growing wide as his normally open mother kept her eyes on the road and off of him.
“It’s something you have to figure out on your own, Zaynie,” she sighed finally, remembering well the almost exact same conversation she’d had with her mother when she was thirteen. “I can’t tell you.”
Zayn let out a little moan, having half a mind that perhaps that was only a rule so that maybe you’d never find your soulmate.
“There’s so many amazing people out there…” He gulped out the words he’d thought so many times but never actually said. “I don’t know why I wanna be with everyone I meet.” He looked away, feeling embarrassed by the remark leaving his mouth. “I’m going crazy.”
His mother then wished she could have had just a little more time. But that was the sign.
“I think it’s time we took you to a therapist, yeah?” She smiled at him, trying to hide the defeat in her voice. “But I promise you’re not crazy,” she reassured, leaning over to rub the back of her hand against Zayn’s forearm.
Zayn only nodded seriously, giving her a small smile. He’d already seen two of his other siblings go through therapy at just around the same age as him. It was expected. Routine.
But what he hadn’t expected was the procedure after the hour-long session, the painful shot that the seemingly-kind therapist drove right near his heart, telling him only that “it would sting for a few days after” and, as she’d handed him a brochure of a list of foods, to eat heart-healthy for two weeks from that day, “just in case”.
And nothing changed after that, and yet everything did. All sensations of crushing, loving, lusting… they all went away after that. He still liked various guys and girls alike, but something about it felt different, like a hologram of what it used to be. It left Zayn feeling a bit empty. But at least he was no longer overwhelmed or confused.
—
Zayn knew it was a bad idea the moment it popped into his head. But he couldn’t stop it, his eyes catching on the dark, fit figure on the balcony, looking to be mid-cigarette. With the curiosity in him growing, Zayn crossed the expansive room. Making it to the other side, he ignored any part of him that told him to stay inside the stuffy ballroom.
One hand reaching for the sliding door, his other hand found its way to his tie, fidgeting with the knot that was suddenly beginning to feel tighter and tighter around his neck. He still didn’t like ties, even after eighteen years.
He didn’t say anything as he stepped out, his thoughts disappearing with the cool evening air. There was a heavy thumping in his chest, a vibration settling in deep as he took a silent step next to the boy. The two were quiet for a moment as Zayn’s eyes spread out around the view of the city lights in front of him. “Want a drag?” The man next to him asked suddenly, his low voice sending involuntarily chills down Zayn’s spine. But maybe it was only the wind, he thought, (unsuccessfully) trying to convince himself of this fact.
Not able to find his words, he could only nod, finally allowing his eyes to travel over. Catching the other boy’s golden brown eyes already on him, he let out a shaky breath as the light from behind flooded over them, illuminating the man’s perfectly styled quiff, his white teeth shining bright around his upturned lips, accenting his cheekbones.
As the other boy reached out to pass the cigarette to Zayn, it felt slippery, like ice between Zayn’s shaky fingers as he almost dropped it between the two of them.
What the fuck was going on? He was normally cool and collected, talking and moving easily with anyone and everyone.
But now? He felt he could barely just stand there without looking like an idiot, let alone even talk to the boy.
Taking a drag from the cigarette in a futile attempt to calm his nerves, he let out a long puff, watching the smoke fade away into the darkness. “Bored in there too?” Zayn asked quietly as he passed the cigarette back to the other boy, making sure not to look at him before all his thoughts once more turned to jelly.
“Could have better conversations in my sleep than the ones in there,” the other boy chuckled with a shake of his head.
“What, you mean how undercooked the caviar is isn’t really your topic of choice?” Zayn snorted.
“Do you even cook caviar?” The other boy taunted, jabbing his elbow into Zayn’s side with a grin.
Shrugging, Zayn raised his eyebrows with a smile. “Hell if I know.”
The boy laughed before mumbling, “Good. Both of us can be clueless together then.”
There was a brief pause as he puffed out more smoke between them. “But you can see why I needed a break, eh?”
Zayn nodded as he took a side step closer until he could smell the musty cologne on the other boy (which didn’t help clear his thought process, by the way). “Well,” he gulped as he gave a side glance to the other boy. “If you’re wanting a break from all this…” He gestured back to the posh room full of suits, cocktail dresses, and little else. “Why don’t you go for a drink with me?” The forward words surprised Zayn almost more than they surprised the other man. He’d only known the man about a total of two minutes and yet, apparently, Zayn was more than willing to risk anything for him.
A laugh erupted from deep within the man, echoing all around the balcony and bouncing back to them. Until he looked over and saw Zayn’s chagrin.
“Oh, you’re serious?” He asked quickly, laughter dying in his throat as he watched the other boy carefully. “Sorry,” he mumbled, scratching at the back of his neck. “It just seemed so ridiculous, I just assumed—“ He trailed off, afraid to continue. After a slight pause, he asked quietly, looking mildly concerned, “You know I’m not your soulmate, right?”
Zayn shrugged, biting his lip as he clarified, “Was just a thought.”
The other boy gave a small smile at this, at how cavalier Zayn was being about the whole thing. “Just a ‘thought’ to break the law, risk being caught, and God knows what else.”
With a squint, the boy continued, “Is this a normal thing for you to ask?”
“Actually, no,” Zayn answered truthfully, feeling his cheeks begin to flush.
He knew it was a bad idea to come out here.
“Honestly? I feel flattered,” the other boy responded with a smirk, and there’s a pinch of relief behind his voice. Maybe even a hint of smugness.
“But I don’t even know your name.” The boy continued, apparently still thinking through Zayn’s suggestion. Thank God cause, in all reality, Zayn didn’t have much of an answer to that comment. “Can’t risk all that for a boy I don’t even know the name of.”
Then it was Zayn’s turn to laugh, realizing how completely outrageous he had been, bringing up such an idea without even knowing something as simple as a name. But he still responded with a shy smile as he turned towards the other boy. “Zayn.”
“Liam,” the man said as he did the same.
With a nod, Zayn asked, eyes bright, “Did that help?”
The other boy hummed, thinking again. Zayn was already beginning to have a feeling that was a common problem for the man. “Well, Zayn,” he began as he tested out the name, liking the feel of it against his tongue. “That depends. Have you ever done this before?”
Zayn snorted at the ridiculous question. “Well, no. You?”
Liam shook his head with a little sigh.
Why was Zayn doing this again?
And then he caught Liam’s eye, watching the crinkles form around them, the odd thumping returning inside his chest. And he remembered.
“Zayn, I want to say yes,” Liam fretted as he turned full-on to Zayn, his eyebrows knitting together at the words. “I promise,” he reassured with a coy smile. “But is it worth it?”
Zayn was quiet for a moment, pondering. He wasn’t usually a rash decision maker either. But this just felt right.
“Well, does it make you feel alive?” Zayn asked seriously. At Liam’s look, he continued with a roll of his eyes, “Look, I know it sounds cheesy, but does it?” He let out a little breath, feeling the words bubble up in his mouth. “I’m tired of living to regret, tired of waiting to live.”
Liam nodded slowly, not saying anything.
“Liam, don’t you want to live your life?” Zayn went on, feeling the desperateness behind his voice but not caring at this point. He was way beyond too late to even think about turning back now.
Liam chuckled lowly, even though there was nothing even remotely funny about the comment. “Even if it’s only for tonight?”
Liam placed his hand on the the rail right in front of Zayn, looking down at it pointedly, as if answering his own question. Taking the hint, Zayn closed the distance between their bodies so anyone looking through the window wouldn’t be able to see the next movement. Then, he set his hand on top of Liam’s, goose bumps traveling up his arm from the contact.
“isn’t that what living is?” Zayn said breathily as he began stroking his thumb lightly over the top of the other boy’s hand, exhaling as he tried to remember quite how to breathe.
“Fair enough, Plato,” Liam replied with a smirk. “Alright,” he said after a slight pause. “But I don’t think we should be going someplace public like a bar.”
“I know just the place then,” Zayn mumbled as he hastily removed his hand from Liam’s, knowing well the danger they were in already from just that little act. He placed his hand back at his side but already missed its previous warmth. “Know where the gas station is just down the hill from here?” Zayn asked suddenly without any explanation.
Liam looked a bit startled, but nodded. “You leave first in about fifteen or so minutes, and I’ll come pick you up when I get the chance.”
“Can’t look too suspicious,” Liam huffed, the disappointment clear in his voice.
“Sorry,” Zayn mouthed before whispering, “See you there, boy-I-just-met-and-only-shared-a-drag-with.” He gave Liam a small smile and a wink before the other man’s hand found its way to Zayn’s shoulder for just a fraction of a second before he flipped around and slid open the balcony door without a word.
—
“Maybe this was a dumb idea,” Zayn sputtered as he finally made his way to the top of the mountain, pulling the key out of the ignition with a sigh.
“It’s perfect,” Liam breathed out in awe as he opened the car door, taking in the sky in front of him.
“The best spot…” Zayn started with a smile as he lifted himself out of the car. “Is right here.” He moved himself towards the top of the hill, stopping right in the middle of the plain. His head lifted to finally take in the star-dotted sky in front of him, eyes moving to Liam, who was now standing next to him with a grin.
“It’s a bit wet…” Zayn warned with a chuckle as he sat down, his backside sliding on the slippery grass.
“I don’t care,” Liam smiled as he sat himself down to the right of the other boy. “Didn’t care much for this suit anyway,” he joked as he leaned his whole body back into the greenery.
Zayn followed in his place soon after, enjoying the quiet peace the night offered around them as they lay out in the grass. Letting, out a little content sigh, his eyes traveled around the familiar stars. After a minute, Zayn felt something next to him, a fumble in the darkness. Liam’s hand sliding in between Zayn’s, Liam gave the other boy a shy smile before staring back up at the stars.
“Do you see O'Ryan’s belt?” Zayn asked quietly after a slight pause, lifting his free hand to the darkness to try to point out the constellation.
“Uh huh,” Liam hummed, but his eyes were no longer on the view in front of him. Preferring instead to look at the beautiful boy laying next to him, Zayn’s eyes almost as bright as a star itself, he smiled. And just for a minute everything felt right.
After continuing to point out a few more of the constellations–with Liam trying his very best to keep up, brain still caught on the hand around his–Zayn stopped. “Why did you say yes?” He asked suddenly, his curiosity (once again) getting the best of him.
Maybe he needed to learn when to stop, he wondered. But when he was with Liam especially, he couldn’t help himself, wanted to know every single detail of Liam’s body, wanted to explore every inch of his mind.
Liam was quiet for a moment–probably overthinking his answer, Zayn thought. “You don’t have to respond,” Zayn whispered finally, every second of silence worrying him just a bit more.
“Zayn,” he said slowly then. “It’s because I felt more with you in those few minutes than I’d ever felt with anyone else in years.” Shifting his hand and interlocking his fingers once more with Zayn’s, he grinned.
“Oh” is all Zayn could think to respond, his mouth opening into an o-shape. That wasn’t quite the answer he had expected. He bit his lip. “I’m glad you felt it, too,” he beamed then, eyes bright as he flipped on his side, not caring about the new-found wetness as he let his fingers lazily graze down Liam’s jaw.
“Zayn, just kiss me,” Liam begged, the crinkle deepening around his eyes once more.
And so Zayn did, bringing his lips softly to Liam’s. Liam leaned in further, pushing in deeper. He only stopped when a heavy sigh left his mouth. “Z,” he groaned against Zayn as he squeezed his eyes shut. “What do we do when tomorrow comes?”
Zayn returned the sigh. He’d been trying to forget about that as well as he could. “One day at a time,” he finally whispered as he did his best to give an encouraging smile.
And the two of them lay there until the sun peeked its way over the mountain, the bittersweet words between the two of them unspoken but not forgotten.
—
“Mum…” Zayn gulped, coming up from behind the familiar figure bent over the pot of vegetables for their dinner that evening. He’d started with the simple word, knowing full well the rest of the sentence wouldn’t be quite as easy to get out.
“Lovie,” Trisha smiled, and, upon hearing the worry in his voice, she reached her arm around behind her to ruffle her hand in the boy’s hair. It seemed no matter how old he got, she wasn’t able to stop herself from doing that.
“What if…” He breathed, trailing off as a huff of air left his mouth. “The universe wasn’t right about my soulmate?”
At this, his mom stopped stirring the pan in favor of glancing at Zayn worriedly, her eyebrows furrowing together.
She didn’t say anything, instead pausing just long enough in the hopes that Zayn would continue.
He did.
“I mean,” he started quickly, already knowing he was digging a deep hole for himself but not caring at this point. “I felt things, things I can’t explain…” His eyes glazing over, he remembered all the sensations from the previous night. “Things I haven’t felt since I was a kid,” he whispered as he looked at his feet with shame.
“What kind of things?” Trisha asked as nonchalantly as possible, even as her voice raised almost an octave in pitch. Trying to keep herself from giving away too much, she shut her mouth as Zayn opened his.
“In my chest?” Zayn wondered aloud, almost feeling the odd sensation again. “It was like a bomb was ticking inside of me and I was gonna explode…”
He figured maybe he should wait to see his mother’s opinion on all this before he was sent back to the therapist for another awful shot but he continued on in a rush anyway. “And my hands, they got all wet and… Sticky almost? I had to keep rubbing them against my pants,” he murmured, squinting as he continued to remember more and more.
“And my throat.” He exhaled. “All of a sudden, I couldn’t remember how to breathe, couldn’t remember that I’d ever breathed before.” He was tempted to continue on, about the feeling of Liam’s soft lips on his, their breathing interweaving as his heart pounded on.
But he didn’t, instead only watching his mom nod. She waited to make sure Zayn had finished before saying quietly, “Z, that’s it.” She let out a breath. "That’s how you know.” Tears welling up behind her eyes, she could only clear her throat, watching Zayn’s look change from worry to confusion.
“Those things only happens with your soulmate,” she grinned, not able to stop her lips from upturning. She watched Zayn’s expression follow suit with hers, his eyes becoming wet as he beamed.
“I–” Zayn began, not quite sure how to respond, still taking in the idea. He swallowed as he felt the excitement swell inside him. “Liam,” he breathed after a moment as he finally started processing enough to think again. A grin growing on his face, he whispered, “I gotta tell Liam.”