All of the stars by Ed Sheeran

A tall man, with skin resembling the sweet colour of caramel, and with eyes the bright hue of blue like the waves of the ocean, stood in front of his opened window. The chilly autumn air grazed his skin, and picked up his hair for a dance. Lance looked up at the sky, sighing deeply.

  "It's just another night, and I'm staring at the moon," he murmured the melody softly to himself. He contemplated the moon and the twinkling evening stars.

  "I saw a shooting star and thought of you," the brunet sang louder, and closed his eyes inhaling the fresh air.

  "I sang a lullaby, by the waterside and knew." He opened his eyes, and focused on the moon. It was still rising, slowly separating from the horizon. "If you were here I'd sing to you. You're on the side as the skyline splits in two." He felt his eyes sting, as his vision blurred.

  "Miles away from seeing you. I can see the stars from America. I wonder do you see them too? So open–" A tear slipped out as his voice broke.

  Singing a love song in his situation was just pouring salt onto an open wound. Lance felt truly pathetic. He was a twenty-six year old man going on different dates, from dating sites or people he met, with the speck of hope that he would meet his soulmate quicker. But he was always disappointed in the end. He had started wondering if it was really worth it, the heartbreaks and all. The sharp gash widening in his chest every time he saw people happy together was making it harder to face his own loneliness. He tried dating many people despite knowing they weren't meant to be, but he longed for his tattoo to be completed. He thought being with anyone would complete him. However, his dates never took things as seriously as he did. He wanted things to last, maybe; and they just wanted something to pass time until their fated ones were found.

  Lance glanced down at his left wrist; a heart-shaped constellation placed upon it, like always. But there was something missing.

  He had met this guy named Lotor not too long ago. He was nice. He had felt a certain connection with the man. But when Lance had come back home from their first date a week ago and looked down at his wrist—a routine he had built up after the numerous rendezvous—he had set his hopes up too high once again. It was the same boring heart.

  "Lance?" He noticed the broad silhouette behind him only after his friend spoke to him. It was Hunk, one of his flatmates.

    "Hm?" he hummed in response, quickly sponging his tears with his sleeve.

  "It's already a quarter to seven. And uhh, I thought I heard a sob..."

  Lance noticed the uneasiness playing on Hunk's face when he mentioned it was time for his date. He had admitted to Lance before that he thought something was off about Lotor. Lance didn't think much of it. Even though they weren't soulmates, they had something between them, he was persuaded.

  Hunk scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. Lance noticed the crystal piercing the ground—Hunk's completed tattoo—covering his right wrist. His eyes narrowed in sadness. Hunk had already met his soulmate, Shay, when they were both sixteen. They've been together ever since. The wide-shouldered brunet would soon move out, and live together with Shay. Lance feared losing people. It created a horrible wormhole in his chest, eating him up from the inside. It was something he had since a child. He bit his tongue trying to hold back whatever he wanted to spout out. It wasn't his friends fault, not at all. It was their right after all, to be with their loved ones. He just couldn't help feeling forgotten by the universe. Where was his soulmate?

  "I should go, thanks for reminding me," Lance announced and pushed past his well-built friend.

  "Be safe!" Hunk called after him while closing the window. Lance rolled his eyes and snatched his coat, rushing out of their house. He took his car and drove through the dark streets lit by the city lights. His date was at a small Italian restaurant. It was their second time going out together so he wanted it to be classy but not overdo it. The little family business was just perfect for that. It was cozy but elegant, and reasonably priced.

  Entering the building, he scanned the room looking for his partner. Lotor wasn't there yet so he was seated at a table for two and waited. As he sat down he fumbled with his sleeves and glanced around. There weren't a lot of people, but most of them were couples. Probably all soulmates.

  Lance felt a pang in his chest. He tried to blink back the tears. He couldn't cry, he was on a date with someone he liked. Well, the date hadn't really started since Lotor wasn't there yet, but he was still on a date—a traditionally joyous event—so he couldn't cry. He looked at the fancy clock on the wall. Lotor was five minutes late. The Cuban picked up the fork and twirled it around his slim fingers as a distraction.

  Lance noticed the restaurant slowly packing up as groups entered. After a while he took out his phone and texted Lotor. The message had been seen, but not responded to. He frowned at his device. Hunk was right, he thought, recalling the brunet's warnings. He sighed and placed his phone on the table.

  Should I wait? Maybe he's driving and can't reply. Maybe he'll still come, he reasoned in his mind.

  A waitress in a white shirt and black trousers came up to Lance. "Sir, my apologies, but is your companion coming or not? If you want you can wait a little longer, but I will have to move you to another table if you don't mind, until they arrive."

  "Uhh, sure," mumbled Lance, observing the chatting customers filling the room. "Of course not." He got up and followed the brunette. She lead him to a table somewhere in the front. There was a black-haired man already seated. He was leaning on the palm of his hand, his expression clearly annoyed. Lance wanted to ask the waitress where to sit but she had already disappeared to tend to the huge group of people who were waiting for a table. Probably a party. Lance sighed and took the chair in front of the scowling man.

  The latter looked up at the shuffling noise and glared at Lance. His murderous look turned into a curious one. Both of the men stiffened when they made eye contact. There was something about those black—no—dark violet eyes that triggered something in the back of Lance's mind. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. His heart thumped loudly in his chest, his rib cage holding back the beast that was about to escape. The man was stunningly beautiful. Lance held his breath, his eyes trailing over the other's features. Even though he was on a "date", Lotor and him weren't official, so he could gawk all he wanted, right?

  The man had a few light freckles on his pale face. His eyes dark but with blinding specks of light in them as well. He had thick untrimmed eyebrows. His dark hair fell on his forehead and a mullet covered back of his neck. He seemed fit, at least the way his shirt tightened around his arms and chest suggested he was. He was clearly shorter than Lance since even while sitting the brunet had to lower his gaze. The handsomeness of the black-haired man fumbled with his brains. Without noticing, Lance used his flirtatious skills out of reflex.

  "Do you have a name, or can I call you mine?" he found himself blurting out. He flashed a bright smile but on the inside he wondered why he said that so suddenly, after all he was supposed to be on a date with another guy, so watching was where it should have stopped.

  The pale cheeks of the other man were dusted red as his eyes widened. Lance then remembered he needed to be careful while courting men. Unlike the ladies, their reactions could tend to be aggressive right off the hook. However this one didn't say anything but simply glanced to the side averting his eyes.

  It was silent for a while. Lance leaned back awkwardly and looked through the window. Raindrops began falling down, splattering on the concrete ground. Cars cars sped by, their headlights projecting a blinding light in the foggy streets.

  "So, you got stood up too?"  asked the raven-haired man, finally breaking the silence and choosing to ignore the previous flirt attempt. Lance flinched. Something about the man's voice was alluring to him. It was the first time he heard it but the sound was most pleasing. He didn't know what it was or why it felt that way.

  Lance nodded shamefully. "Yeah... But he wasn't my soulmate anyway," he confessed, unconsciously leaning in. He stared at the man's face, slowly being drawn in more. It was like there was an invisible connection tugging on his chest to make him close the space between them. Lance presumed gravity had forgotten which way to pull.

  "I didn't even want to come to this stupid thing," the man sighed, undeniably frustrated. Lance gave him a confused and questioning look. The man laid his crossed arms on the table and hung his head. "My stepbrother arranged this for me, saying I had to at least try dating." He rolled his eyes at the mention of his stepbrother. "But surprise surprise, my date isn't here."

  Lance was intrigued. He wanted to know why his stepbrother wanted him to have a date. He wanted to know about his family, about his career. He wanted to know everything about the man. But most importantly, he wanted to know who the hell would ever stand that guy up.

  "What about you, huh? Why did your date not show up?" he asked Lance, looking up from the table.

  "It's just a stupid second date," answered Lance dismissively. "Guess the bastard didn't want to waste his time."

  "Didn't you say he wasn't your soulmate?" the raven-haired man asked, one eyebrow raised.

  "Yeah... I just tend to have more dates with people who really interest me," Lance admitted.

  "So you're interested in jerks?" the pale man snorted sarcastically. He glanced out the window. He had been acting irritated from the start which Lance found very rude. His competitive and snarky side surfaced and he scowled.

  "I don't think so, I'm not interested in you," Lance snapped back. "If that's what you meant." Mullet-man flinched and glared again. The brunet smirked victoriously.

  "Excuse me?" he glowered.

  "You're excused," Lance scoffed back, his eyebrows furrowing.

  "I feel bad for your soulmate. Who would even want you? You're so pitiful,'' he growled and stood up, the chair screeching back.

  Lance gasped and stood up in a hurry. "Well I'm so happy I'm not yours, you're an ass!" Lance stated loudly. The entire restaurant's attention turned to them.

  "Fine with me! I don't care what you think. My soulmate's probably the best on this planet and so much better than your shitty ass," the tempered man grumbled and took his coat, walking out.

  Lance followed him. "Whatever!" he retorted.

  The steaming stranger wanted to have the last word. "Great!" he declared.

  "Good!" retaliated Lance. He trailed behind him until they were outside in the pouring rain. Both men stood on the sidewalk, blinking rapidly to avoid the rain from getting in their eyes. Their damp clothes stuck to their bodies. Lance loved the rain, adored it even, so he didn't mind. But the soaking weather just made the short man more bitter. He glared one more time at Lance, before walking in the opposite direction than the Cuban was heading.

  The rain fell down mercilessly, drenching Lance from head to toe. He got in his car and slammed the door closed. He groaned in frustration and hit his head on the steering wheel. He looked in his rear view, seeing that the stranger got on his motorcycle. Lance's eyes narrowed as he scoffed once again before turning his keys, making the engine of his blue car roar to life. He heard the engine of the motorbike and glanced through his wing mirror. It drove by at an incredible speed. Lance noticed the motorcycle was a red shade, almost like fire, blasting through the street. He secretly wished the guy would slip and crash down the street.

  He shook his head, and buckled up, slowly pulling out of the parking at the sides of the narrow street. He sighed, and drove home. He turned up the volume of the radio, searching for a distraction, and the host spoke in a hushed but gripping voice.

  "–ladies and gentlemen, for those of you who haven't found their soulmate yet, this one's for you. Don't you worry, someone has also been made for you," she spoke, as a song started in the background.

  "Never did believe, in what I couldn't see."

  It was still in Lance's car. There was the soft melody of the rain clattering on the hood and roof of his car, the repetitive swiping sounds of his windshield wipers against the wet glass, and the radio bringing life to the small enclosure.

  "Long before I knew, darling I was made for you."

   Lance stopped at a red light, glancing at a couple who ran through the rain hand in hand, trying to find shelter. A loud roar of thunder could be heard throughout the city, and a flash of lightening pierced through the sky.

  "There's not much that I know, been searching high and low."

  The light turned green, and Lance carefully drove further.

  "With your smile illuminating, save my heart that needed saving, no way I could be mistaken."

  Lance breathed in, and out slowly, the words of that mysterious man ringing in his ears, over and over again.

  "Darling I was made for you."

  Lance gritted his teeth and turned the volume down, and the music disappeared. He drove in silence, listening to the sky crying, and wishing his own emotions would wash away with the rain. He pulled up in the driveway, beside the other two cars. He got out and entered the house. Pidge was on their laptop, curled up on the single armchair, and Hunk and Shay were cuddled up on the huge L-couch. They all looked up at Lance when he came in. He smacked the door closed and threw his coat onto the hanger, his shoes kicked off to somewhere, but he didn't care. He was done. Officially the last date he'd ever go on.

  Lance said nothing, and walked to the stairs, passing the sofa. He muttered while passing Hunk, "You were right about Lotor." Not saying anything else he walked up the stairs towards his room. Opening his door, he walked into the empty room, and closed the door with a loud bang.

  He let himself fall freely stomach down onto his bed, his face buried in his pillow. He groaned and turned his head so his nose could at least inhale some air. His eyes wandered around his room and out of habit, he raised his arm and glanced at his tattoo. His wrist had been aching the whole evening.

  Lance didn't expect what he saw though. He shot up and took his trembling wrist, trying to hold it still. He squeezed his tanned skin tight as if to see if it was a dream. But it wasn't, it was real.

  His once lonely constellation of a single heart, was now transfixed with another constellation of an arrow. A pierced heart. But who did the arrow belong to? Lance was lacking air to breathe, or he wasn't breathing at all. He couldn't tell the difference. His eyes scanned his wrist over and over again until he started feeling dizzy.

  The brunet closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He opened them, and it was still there. He didn't know who his soulmate was. This was not how he had dreamt it would go. And for some reason, he felt almost... empty. He wasn't satisfied by the course of events.

  He trailed his finger over the arrow softly. A smile found its way onto his lips. "At least it's a cool tattoo," he muttered to himself.

  A juvenile voice rang through Lance's mind. He had heard it before, and something in the back of his chest fluttered each time it drifted through his thoughts. But he never figured out what it was, who's voice it was, or why it was calling out to him. Lance closed his eyes, thinking about his childhood which had become a mystery to him. As clumsy as he had always been, at eleven years old he had fallen and had hit his head on a rock. The concussion had caused some minor memory loss especially of recent events. The doctors had said it wasn't serious and that throughout the years he should recover every single souvenir.

  Behind his eyelids Lance saw a blurred face. He could hear a drained out name, a lost voice. In the back of his mind there was a blank space, something was there but at the same time wasn't.

  He knew there was this kid, his best friend apparently. From what his mother told him, the boy had moved away when they were ten, but Lance just couldn't remember his face or his name. He didn't bother asking his mother about him either. She believed he at least remembered his name and didn't talk about the subject too often, afraid it would hurt her son. So it was all vague. Like a memory we have as a child but the only thing we remember are the pictures of that event, not the event in itself. So all the memories Lance had about that kid were actually the scarce stories his mother would tell him, not the actual experiences. And it saddens Lance constantly. It seemed like they had had a really strong bond, from what he was told. He believed it was a shame to not even remember someone who had once brought him so much happiness.

  Lance opened his eyes. He decided he couldn't sleep with all these thoughts roaming in his mind. Maybe distracting himself would get him to sleep. He opened the drawer of his nightstand, taking out his journal—he had been through many adventures since high school, and he adored all those moments dearly so he kept track of them in a notebook. Scanning over old memories forced him to look back onto his past, and he hoped that one day it would help him recall his childhood friend. Lance went to the last page of the folder. There was a small note behind the plastic holder. He carefully slipped it out and opened the wrinkled paper. He smiled, reading the sloppy handwriting, which was still better than own to this day.

  "If by the age of 25 we haven't found our soulmates yet, I promise I'll marry you <3 you're my best friend forever and I love you."

  Lance couldn't recall anything other than a clouded figure. He read the words with his own voice since he could not find a record of the sound and associate it with anyone.

  He may have forgotten the person, but he did remember the feelings swirling inside his chest when he was with his friend. The way his stomach churned, turned and twisted, and the way his lips automatically lifted up into a small, genuine smile. He could sometimes feel those giddy affections just thinking about it. Though his mind had forgotten all about his childhood, his heart and body had not.

  "I'm twenty-six, you can come out of your hiding spot now. Even though it doesn't matter anymore. I've already found my soulmate. Maybe I'll marry them, if I ever meet them again... and it'll be too late for... 'us'... I wonder if I'd still wish you were my soulmate instead... mystery kid," burbled the brunet as he put the paper back, locking everything up in his drawer. He let himself fall back onto his bed.

  He glanced down at his drumming wrist, and contemplated the heart constellation now pierced with an arrow. Lance looked through his window (thank goodness Hunk had closed it after Lance had left). His soulmate was actually out there, alive, and breathing. And he had met them. Even though he was disappointed due to the circumstances, he was somewhat relieved to know his soulmate wasn't that far away.

  "Lance?" asked Pidge opening the door slowly, Hunk and Shay tailing behind.

  "Lance, buddy? Hey?" Hunk came closer to the distressed Cuban. "Is something the matter? Other than your failed date of course..."

  "My wrist..." Lance mumbled. Hunk's eyes widened as he grabbed Lance's forearm and studied the tattoo carefully. Pidge and Shay joined in, and both smiled.

  "You don't know who it is though, do you?" sighed Hunk, and stared at Lance with empathy.

  "Nope," he replied. "I met at least two people who are maybe..." He had never expected to meet his soulmate that way. Who was his soulmate? He didn't even know. He hadn't noticed a particular spark, or attraction, or anything people described when meeting their soulmate. He had been too busy thinking about Lotor and drooling over the rude guy.

  "You need to have at least talked to them," stated Pidge crawling on Lance's bed and patting his shoulder.

  "Two," Lance repeated. He had only spoken to two people. "A waitress and a jerk."

  "Wait, what about Lotor?" Pidge asked in confusion.

   "He stood me up, and this waitress put me at a table with a distasteful person," Lance spat out, visualizing those stupid violet eyes, and that moronic mullet, and that ludicrous, sarcastic laugh.

  "We'll go to the restaurant and ask for the waitress, alright? It should still be open. And hopefully the waitress is still there," declared Hunk, sitting on Lance's other side.

  "Everything is ruined," groaned Lance. "My perfect meeting with my perfect person was sabotaged. Why me? Why, karma?"

  Hunk sighed and gave his best friend a hug. "I'm sure she didn't even notice her tattoo since she was working, you two will both be able to relive your meeting, acting as if nothing had happened before," comforted the big teddy bear.

  "At least we know Lotor's true nature now," concluded Pidge with a snort.

  Lance chuckled through the forming tears. He wiped his red, puffy eyes. "Yeah... I guess so," he breathed out. Thankfully he had his friends. They were the best.

  "Well I technically knew from the beginning but..." trailed Hunk shrugging and eyeing the ceiling. Pidge sniggered and Lance playfully punched his tanned friend in the ribs. They all burst laughing together and embraced each other. Shay watched from the door frame with a kind gaze.

  "Come on guys, if you keep him cooped up in your family hug he won't be able to see his soulmate," warned Shay while knocking on the door. The three buddies sprung up and rushed past her, Hunk not forgetting to give her a goodbye kiss. They stomped down the stairs and all got into Lance's blue vehicle.

_____________________

  "I'm sorry, but no... See, this is my tattoo. I'm terribly sorry for the misunderstanding," the cute girl apologized, showing her wrist to Lance.

  He smiled sadly. "It's okay, now I know who it is. Thanks though, have a nice evening," responded Lance and they both said their goodbye's. He exited the restaurant to be met by Pidge and Hunk, taking refuge under a large umbrella. Lance shook his head, giving them a pathetic excuse of a smile. Hunk slumped his shoulders, he had sort of anticipated the reaction of his friend upon learning the waitress wasn't his soulmate.

  "I take it it wasn't her," he still asked to make sure. Lance shook his head with a frown.

  "But it can't be him! He's... he's so despicable and mean. He in no way completes me or would ever make me a better person. He's just a jerk. I must have bumped into someone at the restaurant," ranted the brunet while turning back to the door denying everything.

  Pidge grabbed his arm and pulled him back. The short friend gave him an apologetic smile. "Due to my disinterest in romantic relationships and feelings I can't help you with that aspect of your relationship, but I can still advise you. Maybe that dick isn't your soulmate, fine. But what if he is? Then he is for a reason that you probably haven't find out yet especially since you've only met five minutes. Soulmates are a complicated thing. No one really understands the whole deal. We just know we are happiest with our destined person. Maybe for now you hate him, but maybe later on you'll love him," they explained, staring seriously into his eyes.

  Lance calmed down and relaxed his shoulders. He looked at Pidge then at Hunk, who was grinning supportively. His friends were probably right. It was an upsetting evening, they were both annoyed upon meeting. It was only expected from both of them to act so bitter right off the bat.

  "I don't care. That ass can not be my soulmate. He's too unrefined. Forget it. Plus I'll probably never see him again, thankfully."

  Pidge groaned and held their forehead. Hunk chuckled, uneasy. He patted Lance's shoulder and pushed him away from the restaurant.

  "Don't be so sure. This isn't the world's biggest city you know, your paths will cross eventually. But I realize this must suck for you so, sorry," he argued. "Also, Allura somehow got the news, did you tell her? She just called and asked to meet up at the flower shop." Hunk gave his friend an extra umbrella.

  "What?" Lance took the umbrella and opened it. "No... I was too busy thinking about who it was. Did you?"

  Hunk and Pidge both responded by shaking their heads. They had started walking. The rain had calmed down, but it was still frizzling. Some thunder clapped in the distance.

  "Then how does she know?" inquired Lance, relatively calm about the whole situation.

  "I don't know buddy, we'll know soon enough I guess," replied Hunk.

  "Besides, girl knows everything on this planet. Almost as if she has mice running around for her," added Pidge. The two boys agreed in silence.

  Lance worked in the flower shop where they were asked to go to—in spite of the bizarre hour—which was also owned by Allura. Pidge had met Coran, Allura's uncle, at their university. They all got introduced and became good friends. Lance had dropped out to become a florist with the beautiful woman. At first he had mostly done it to flirt with her but with time he only considered her an older sister. Besides, she had already found her soulmate and was determined to stay with him.

  The trio finally arrived and entered the cozy boutique. Inside there was a tall, muscular, and handsome guy. It was Allura's boyfriend ergo soulmate, Takashi—but everyone just nicknames him Shiro.

  "–and then started screaming when he noticed. Like, he broke a lamp and threw pillows around. From what he told me they're both at fault but he doesn't want to acknowledge that, he blames the other guy... I don't know what to do with him. He says he wants to beat the crap out of the guy and kiss him at the same time. Probably the mate-pull, but still. He's short-tempered so he works himself up all the time and–oh lord, Allura help me with this boy," sighed Shiro, his voice was low and strong, and he was clearly in need of a break. The three stood still, not wanting to interrupt the conversation.

  "Well, I mean, it isn't a nice way to meet your soulmate, but–ah guys! Thank the space-lords, you came!" Allura ushered away from her boyfriend who turned around to see the group.

  "So... who's your soulmate?" Allura flashed Lance a huge grin.

  "Uhh yeah, how do you know about that?" asked Lance. He looked at Shiro warily. They weren't very close at all. He occasionally stopped by the shop so those were the only times they saw each other. He and Allura weren't together for a very long time so Lance didn't consider him as close a friend as the rest.

  "That's for me to know and for you to find out," she giggled with her British accent perking up. Her was voice soft and gentle, and her laugh chiming.

  "What? What do y–" Lance began, but stopped when Allura took his wrist and examined the tattoo. She knitted her eyebrows together and puckered her lips, deep in thought.

  "Shiro," she stated. As on cue he treaded forward. "Is it..?" Allura trailed off, stepping to the side. Shiro glanced at Lance's left wrist. Allura tightened her grip as Lance tried to pull away. Fear washed over Lance, as he looked at the glare on Shiro's face.

  "Well, it is indeed," he chuckled, leaning back and crossing his arms. "So, you and your soulmate got off on the wrong foot, I suppose," muttered Shiro more to himself than to Lance. The brunet frowned deeply, this was too strange.

  "Alright, let go now please," Lance snapped and snatched his arm away. He retreated, becoming suspicious and slightly afraid of the two.

  How did they even know? Why did they act so surprised seeing my tattoo? What the hell is going on? he thought.

  Hunk and Pidge sent him worried glances. Lance's eyes fell on the matching tattoos on Allura's and Shiro's wrists. The same vile liquids of jealousy boiled inside him as they had before. This time he was sick and tired of it all. The pot spewed out and overflowed with the unpleasant, green substance. His thoughts were getting clouded by the taunting fog. He was about to overflow externally too. So he ran.

  "Lance!" Pidge cried out, chasing after Lance. But fortunately for him, he had longer legs and he easily escaped. Pidge stepped back inside the shop, their shoes and hair soaked.

  "You okay?" asked Hunk and they grimly nodded. He turned to the couple who were whispering to themselves. "What is going on?"

  "I promise I'll explain but this is important. Where does Lance usually go when he's under pressure or depressed?" she questioned the duo.

  Hunk looked from Allura to Pidge with a perplexed expression. They shrugged, just as lost. With a long sigh Hunk acquiesced and discerned their friend's ritual when upset.

_____________________

  The black-haired man from earlier's dinner was walking alone on the beach boardwalk. He grumbled angrily to himself the whole way while keeping his head down. His stepbrother had just come home and immediately went all "I'm the older brother, you need to listen to me" on him. He hated when he was ordered around and as a result rarely listened. Yet this time he found himself walking on the stupid beach, in the rain, in the middle of the night. He huffed, crossing his arms and kicking a pile of sand.

  "'Go on a walk,' he said. 'Calm yourself down,' he said. 'Stop pacing around,' he said," the angered man mimicked in a high-pitched voice. He was clearly irritated and was muttering to himself like a madman.

  It was around ten o' clock by now. The sun was long gone and the moon was out, shining brightly and proudly.

  "At least no one's gonna be here to bother me," he stated out loud while observing the beautiful reflection of the moon on the waves. That's when he noticed a silhouette in the ocean.

  "What the hell is that idiot doing?" he growled and narrowed his eyes. It was hard to see in the night and through the rain but the moon offered enough light for him to affirm it was a surfer.

  "What kind of idiot goes surfing this late? What the heck? And in the rain, really?"

  The person was swimming back to the shore, the closer they got, the more obvious it was a man.

  The irked passerby started walking away. "Why do I care anyway?" he muttered, furrowing his hands in his pockets. The air was getting cooler and his fingers were aching. Then he heard someone call out to him. He turned around and saw the surfer running up to him.

  "H-Hey, I'm really sorry to bother you but could you help me? The zipper, it's stuck..." the crazy civilian pleaded while turning around. The rain was gradually stopping which made it easier to see. The man blankly looked at the other's broad back. Rolling his eyes with a huff, he approached and fumbled with the lodged zipper until it came undone. He pulled it down so it would be easier to take the suit off.

  "Thanks," the other said while turning back to face his savior. The raven-haired man brushed his fingers through his damp hair to get some of the long, bothersome strands out of his face. His drenched jacket stuck to his skin and the sleeve plastered itself on his forearm, the rim just barely under his wrist. Suddenly the stranger grasped his wrist while it was still raised.

  "What in the world do you think you're doi–" he snapped, but stopped as he noticed what the man was doing. He was holding his left wrist next to his right one. "Well fuck," he cursed in conclusion. He raised his attention to see the man's face and recognized it instantly.

  The not-so-stranger looked up, connecting their visions. The blue eyes came back into the man's mind.

  "So, it's you," Lance said.

  "How ironic. I insult your soulmate who turns out to be me," the short man gritted his teeth. "Just my goddamn luck." He tried pulling away from the brunet's grasp but it only tightened.

  "Wait, look. We're soulmates, and, I mean, uhh... Even though we got off on a wrong foot we could maybe at least... try?"

  "Why would I do such a thing? You yourself said you weren't interested in going out with your soulmate. Well neither am I."

  "B-but... I can't help it if you of all people are the person I'm fated to be with." The man narrowed his dark eyes. "The thing is, shouldn't we at least give this soulmate thing a shot? I mean... You're my soulmate for a reason, even though for now I have no idea why I would ever be with someone like you. Soulmates are a complicated thing. No one really understands it all. We just know we are happiest with our fated person. Maybe for now we hate each other, but maybe later on we'll manage to stand each other?" Lance declared, quoting what Pidge had told him earlier. "So let's get to know each other. There's a fair on the pier for the weekend. It's open pretty late too. Wanna go there? You can maybe shoot things if you're angry," proposed the latino, a hopeful smile displayed on his lips.

  The black-haired man glanced around, and sighed in defeat. "Fine. But you're still an ass," he said, but with a playful tone.

  Lance smiled brighter than before. "And you're still a jerk."

  "Fair enough," he laughed, and Lance froze. That laugh sounded awfully familiar in the back of his head. The mullet, the freckles, all of it, but... he just couldn't lay all the pieces on the table. There was one fragment missing; the puzzle wasn't complete.

  "Let me get dressed first though," Lance chuckled, coming back to earth. His suit was getting scratchy from the salt water and he was beginning to feel chilly. They both walked to the little shacks where the brunet had hidden his stuff, returning the surfboard to another shed.

  Once dressed and all the cabins locked up, the two started walking to the pier.

  "Why were you surfing so late in the evening? And in the rain too," asked the man, his curiosity getting the best of him.

  "Oh, um... I surf when I'm stressed. And I adore the ocean, and the stars and all... So it's a perfect combination, laying on the surfboard on the waves, looking up at the stars. It's amazing," responded Lance. His eyes held a happy glow as he described the view and the feeling. Despite the previous events that evening, they managed to talk with a certain ease. They erased the whole blowing up scenes, fast forwarded to where they were now, paused, and then let the events play as if nothing had happened.

  "What were you doing here so late? You don't really seem like the kind to like the ocean."

  "Ah, well... My stepbrother forced me. He was angering me more than I already was so it was best for me to come out here anyway."

  Lance put one and one together, and his eyes widened. "His name isn't Shiro, is it?"

  The fair-skinned man stopped walking and Lance did too when he noticed. He looked confused, afraid, and angry.

  "How the he–?"

  "–You broke some plates and wanted to beat the crap out of me?" pursued Lance, crossing his arms. The man opened his mouth about to say something, but nothing came out. "And at the same time you wanted to kiss me?" concluded Lance with his signature smirk.

  "How–? Did you stalk me?" the man practically screeched, his voice going a few octaves higher. He stepped back and watched the brunet with slight disgust. Lance straightened up and waved his arms over his head, crossing them in front of his face.

  "What? No! Of course not, ew, I'm not a stalker," he clarified peeking through the x his arms formed.

  "...Then you know Shiro?"

  "Well yes and no. I mean, he's my boss' soulmate, so I guess I know him. But I'm not very close to him. I work in Allura's flower shop."

  The two started walking in an awkward silence again. Lance felt their hands graze against each other. His fingers twitched discreetly and he clenched them into a fist.

  "Uh... I'm sorry about the restaurant," he coughed awkwardly. They arrived at the fun fair which was much brighter and louder from up close.

  "It's okay, I'm sorry too. I was just frustrated and, I'm pretty quick to anger and... you know... Things get heated up rapidly..."

  "I noticed," Lance laughed. They both walked through the small festival. There weren't a lot of people, probably because it rained so much. Just a few couples or some group of teenagers.

  "Wanna go on the ferris wheel?" invited Lance. He was responded with a nonchalant shrug. They strolled all the way to the end of the pier ignoring the other attractions leaving those for later. They both got in line once under the impressive machine. It wasn't a very long queue, actually there was no queue at all. They mounted in one of the cabins and sat opposite of each other. It was silent. The only sounds were the waves, the people, and some music from the shooting stalls.

  Lance glanced at the man in front of him, his soulmate, the one he had longed for his whole life. But there was something missing, something important... Even though he was his soulmate, his soul didn't feel as complete as he had hoped it would be.

  There was a hard stop, and the cabin swayed back and forth. It didn't bother Lance because he knew the ferris wheel usually stopped to give the passengers a nice view of the beach, however his date was slightly panicked as he clutched onto his seat. He flinched when a voice emitted from a speaker in the corner of the cabin.

  "Attention passengers. We're sorry for the inconvenience, but we have a system malfunction. Please remain calm and do not panic. We're already working on it. Stay seated the whole time. Thank you."

  "Are we stuck?" Lance asked in shock.

  "No shit Sherlock."

  "Dude why do you have to be so rude?"

  "I have reasons that are none of your goddamn business," the short man snapped back. His hostile character came back for some reason. This guy was a real rollercoaster of emotions.

  "Man, look, I don't expect you to tell me your whole life story because we're soulmates. Nor do I expect you to trust me on the count of three. But can you at least try to give me a chance?" spat Lance feeling a brew of bitterness and pain.

  "No."

  "Why?" questioned Lance, quieter. Being stuck on the ferris wheel was a problem long forgotten. Now all Lance wanted to know was why his soulmate wouldn't even attempt to get along with him.

  "Look, I once trusted somebody and life shitted on us both. I'm done, I don't want to feel the same pain that I felt back then! That's why I don't go on dates. That's why I don't do... this."

  Lance stayed silent. He stared at his soulmate.

  "Me too, you know," he eventually managed to whisper, and he looked down at his lap.

  "W-What?" said the dark-haired man softy, aware that it was a sensitive subject by the way Lance had spoken.

  "I once fell in love with somebody. They meant everything to me. But I can't even remember their face, nor their name, or anything. It's horrible. I know I loved them. I can remember the feelings. I still feel the butterflies in my stomach thinking about them, despite the figure having no face. And it's all just..."

  Lance bit his lip and stopped speaking. He sighed running his fingers in his wet hair. He pressed his forehead against the large widow and stared out with glassy eyes. There was a heavy sigh opposite of him.

  "Alright. I'll give you a chance. I'll give us a chance," he spoke softly, and carefully. "You know what? I'll even give you my number if we ever do get out of here. We can maybe go for something like this again."

  Lance didn't reply, only smiled, pleased. There was a long silence for a while. He suddenly realised something.

  "Dude," Lance groaned and facepalmed.

  "What?"

  "I don't even know your name," Lance laughed. It was all so ridiculous the way their story was being written with so many loopholes and blanks, which hopefully would be filled in later.

  "You're right, oh my god," the guy chortled. Lance almost shut down completely upon hearing that sound so enticing. His eyes travelled up and down, looking for something that would spark up a memory, a picture, just a hint of why this person was so...

  "Keith. My name is Keith."

  The name resonated in Lance's ears. It bounced off every edge of his mind, spinning wildly like a slot machine. Suddenly the reels slowly came to a stop with the same symbol on each disk and the screen flashed "JACKPOT" and the speakers blasted a relentless ring.

  Keith. Keith... Keith? KEITH? Lance was internally repeating the name, until the coins spilled out the slot, flooding his mind with souvenirs.

  "K-Keith..." The name rolled off his tongue with such nostalgia when he said it. "As in, Keith Kogane?" He didn't dare move a muscle. How could he ever forget the first love of his life? The one who had saved him and cared for him. His guardian angel. He felt so bad for letting that blessed part of his life slip away so easily. Now he had just a faint recollection of that person and it could maybe, just maybe, be the person in front of him. But there was also the possibility that they were two completely separate beings. Two people named Keith. A simple coincidence. Maybe it wasn't fate.

  "How do you know my last name?" Keith questioned, his pupils dilating in surprise and curiosity. Lance inflated with hope. So it was fate; it was the same Keith. "How... Have we met before?" quizzed the raven-haired man, scared of the answer. If they had met before they would have noticed they were soulmates, right? The incomprehensible connection would have been felt way before their meeting at the restaurant, and their tattoos would have been completed.

  "Lance," stated the brunet, confident, but at the same time he was on the verge of tears. What if Keith didn't remember him? All Lance wanted to do was hug Keith, smell his scent again, feel his skin against his own, sense his body warmth. It was more than just holding his soulmate, it was holding his love, that he needed.

  Keith was deep in thought. He scanned the man's face and connected it to the name just revealed. His chest clenched. His eyes narrowed. His lips contracted. Lance watched him closely. Suddenly his eyes flooded with tears and Keith choked on a sob. Lance snapped out of his trance and saw tears pour onto his reddened cheeks.

  "McClain?" His whole tough, sassy, rebel personality disappeared for good. The foul mask fell to concede a soft and humane soul. Just like when they first met as children.

  "Yes..." Lance's own eyes stung again.

  "No..." Keith held his hand in front of his mouth, trying to swallow his sobs. "That's not... It can't... You can't..."

  "K-Keith?" Lance just needed to confirm it, hear the name from his own lips. This was a dream coming true. Everything fell into place. All the indescribable feelings that had followed him into adulthood were finally associated to someone real and visible. The blurred out face was clear now. Those elongated, dark, mysterious eyes, those pale cheeks doused with pink and dotted with peach specks, those thin, snarky lips, that ridiculously attractive mullet, all created the image of Keith. The person he had been waiting for all along. His best friend. His crush. His soulmate. Was it really worth the wait? Oh definitely.

  "Lance," sniveled Keith. The Latino opened his arms, and without hesitation the short man jumped into Lance's arms. He shifted so they sat beside each other, holding one another closer, tighter, almost like if they were to ever let go they would wake up and all this would blow away with the morning breeze.

  No gap was between their bodies. They were as close as possible. Their grips on each other were so strong, almost bone crushing.

  "Lance..." Keith kept repeating his name over and over. "I... I'm so stupid. How could I forget?I... I just... You're just such an ass now," he affirmed leaning back and observing the man in his arms. He received a light punch in the ribs which made him smile. His eyes desperately searched Lance's.

  "Were you talking about me? Before?" muttered Lance nuzzling his face into the crook of Keith's neck. Oh how he had missed that place. It was unique. None of his previous lovers had the same domestic feeling that safe spot provided.

  "Yeah..." The words came out soft and slow. They were barely spoken louder than a whisper but with Lance in his special space he heard it perfectly. He felt Keith's breath graze his ear and his voice charm him. The dark-haired man sniffed and new tears ran down his face. How could he forget? How could he miss the fact that it was Lance? His Lance. He was so obsessed with the child he had known that he never raised his eyes to see the adult into which he had grown.

  "I guess you gotta marry me now," remarked Lance, pulling away reluctantly. He scanned Keith's puffy face. He had never been a pretty cryer, it was the only moment his face was actually ugly. He was crying big, salty tears, but nonetheless, he was smiling that smile Lance had fallen in love with when they were little.

  "I'll hold that promise. I told you we'd meet again, silly," chuckled Keith, using the juvenile insult he always had with the tall brunet. Lance's heart fluttered at the spoken words.

  Suddenly the cabin started moving. The jolt shoved them closer, if that was possible. Their noses bumped, and lips neared merely a movement away. Their heavy breaths fanned each other's lips. They looked into each other's eyes but leisurely glanced at the alluring part of the other's face, begging them to seal the gap.

  Lance remembered everything. Every missing puzzle piece linked together to form one big picture. The puzzle was complete, and so were their tattoos and their hearts. There was Lance's missing part.

  "Hey?" susurrated the thin Cuban. They arrived at the highest point the ferris wheel could offer. The view over the ocean was supposed to be breathtaking, but Lance found Keith much more stupefying.

  "Yeah?" responded Keith, his warm breath sending goosebumps all over Lance's skin.

  "I've always wished you were my soulmate when we were little. I was in love with you but I never had the guts to tell you..."

  "I know, silly."

  That line wandered in his mind until it collided with the very first memory Lance had of Keith. It was one of the first things that knucklehead had said to him. One of the first words which linked him with the buck wild kid.

  "You never called though. Even when you knew, you let me think I was alone. You let me believe you had forgotten me and you had met your soulmate," accused Lance.

  "I lost the paper with the number. And the orphanage didn't know how to reach out to you. More like didn't want to," added Keith. "But I still have our promise. I never went anywhere without it."

  "So do I. It's never left my drawer," Lance smiled. A tear fell down and Keith wiped it away with his thumb, cupping Lance's jaw.

  "And unlike you, I never forgot about you."

  Lance tittered and playfully hit Keith's head. His hand laid flat on the soft hair. He buried his fingers in the still humid locks and pushed Keith toward him.

  "It's funny, though. Just a few hours ago I was hoping with all my heart and soul you wouldn't be my soulmate. And when you turned out to be, I was cursing every god up there for making it so," confessed Keith with a giggle. Lance would be lying if he said it wasn't the cutest sound he had ever heard. "But look how everything turned out. I guess whoever's up there, or whoever created this soulmate system, just wanted to prove us wrong."

  "And I'm glad they did."

  The Latino grinned, and turned his head to the side a little. Keith did the same, and they both leaned in. Lance pressed just a little more on Keith's head so that it was closer to him. Their lips touched so innocently. They compressed against each other until their noses were poking the other's cheek. Their kiss was soft, gentle, and perfectly still. Their worlds met at the tip of their mouths and mashed into a starry galaxy. This kiss was much more satisfying than their first one. This one held so many more feelings. It wasn't rushed. It wasn't inexperienced. It was long and slow, and still somewhat unacquainted.

  They pulled back, eyes fluttering open. Lance stared into those captivating, violet irises. They held a content and requited glow. He could have sworn he saw some stars dancing in the dark purple nebula. Lance's eyes travelled over his features with awe.

  "Oh my god, you really kept the mullet?" he snorted once realization struck him. It had been there the whole time but it was only then, when his fingers where entwined with the black strands, that he connected the dots. Keith rolled his eyes, but smiled.

  "Specially for you," he replied charmingly. "I like it. Please don't get rid of it," Keith mimicked in a higher voice.

  Lance guffawed hiding his face. It was like he was falling in love all over again. He took the time to look at where they were and where they had started. The gash in his chest was slowly mending itself with a newly found satisfaction and fulfillment.

  "Holy shit, my childhood best friend is my soulmate," he gasped, awareness washing over him.

  "Oh would you look at that, we are," smirked Keith, his face heating up.

  They faced the crashing waves as they slowly descended. The night sky glistened with glowing stars. Lance glanced down to his wrist which was also part of the sky, in a way. His and Keith's shared passion were the beauty of the unknown universe cradling them so fondly. What were the odds of them finding each other again? What were the chances they would turn up being soulmates?

In the end, the asters they admired became their story. Just like their tattoos, the events in their lives connected and joined each other to create one constellation. The stars did guide them home. Why home?

Because "home is where the heart belongs" and their home was anywhere in the vast space, together.

____________________

We're so terribly sorry for the wait! Ahaha, busy life's, you know? This time I won't lie, the next update might take a while.

Due to;
-The writer's (me) finals are coming up, so i won't have much time to write, and i need to have good grades to pass this year, but I promise, I'll do the best i can!
-The editors life is pretty busy (as for we're both in high-school), and for personal reasons (that i don't know i may name), she'll be tired and i won't pressure her to force herself,'nor push herself over her limits!

•So please understand! ^-^', we try to work as fast as we can!

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed chapter two! It's pretty long, thank you editor, once again, amazing end result!

Alrighty then, write to you next time!

(I noticed the sneaky puns, did you too?)

Word count: 8943