Covering my arm from my shoulder to my elbow are tiny flowers. Lots and lots of them. I had two tattoo artists go ham on my arm with the flowers of their choosing, blaming it on a love for flowers and art and wanting to have art on my body. They happily complied seeing as I was paying for their time anyway. It took four hours and it was painful as hell, but my arm now looks like a garden and in the midst is a butterfly, not out of place at all. Martin will be home from work in about an hour and I couldn't think of any reason whatsoever to not be here when he comes home so here I am, writing in my diary like always, while my birthday lasagna is cooking in the oven. My parents are even coming over. I cleaned the entire apartment yesterday preparing for the small gathering, birthdays being pretty much the only time i actually see my parents these days.
The minutes waiting for Martin to come home were awful. I know his opinion on the soulmate stuff, it's the same as everyone I know over 20 who haven't got a mark. They despise even the idea of it. I'm not sure where the hatred has come from, but we've all been taught to dislike even talk about the subject. My mother once told me it was a scheme from the government to slow down overpopulation. Making people wait to find a soulmate instead of hooking up with randoms who get you pregnant.
I actually used to fantasise about finding a soulmate when I was younger. I'd make my Barbie dolls live next door to each other and then suddenly one day they'd just fall in love, sometimes Barbie and Barbie were soulmates, sometimes Barbie and Ken were soulmates and once Ken even had a soulmate bond with one of my teddies. I just enjoyed the idea of someone fitting together just right. My mom wasn't a fan of my fantasies and my stories often ended in one of the dolls, or teddies disappearing for a long time as she would hide them from me to make the soulmate talk stop.
And now here I am, just turned 20 and all I want to talk about is something that I know I have to keep quiet.
The entire apartment smelt like lasagna when Martin walked through the front door. I had set the table nicely, poured myself a glass of wine because I deserved it, it was my birthday after all. He pulled me to him and lifted me in his arms, placing a slow happy kiss on my lips while humming the birthday song. I smiled as brightly as I could, the sensation of his lips on mine feeling like someone sat the sepia filter right where we were touching.
"I got you something. I know we said no gifts but I couldn't help myself"
I rolled my eyes, I was expecting it, we always said no gifts and he always bought gifts anyway. And it was always something I loved.
Behind him was a big box, wrapped in pink paper with gold dots. It was much bigger than his usual gifts and it was the first thing since he had walked in that had actually sparked joy.
Unwrapping the big box revealed a sound system, with a cd-player.
"You have all those cd-albums, but nowhere to play them, so I thought" He explained, scratching his head.
"It's perfect, thank you I love it" I said and turned to him giving him a genuine smile.
It was true, I did have a lot of CD's without having actually played any of them. I collect albums from my favorite k-pop band, and he used to make fun of it, but now I think he's becoming almost as much of a fan as I am.
"I got myself a gift today too" I said cheerfully and pulled up my sleeve showing the plastic clingfilm covered arm. I had decided that it would be best to show him the tattoo rather than have him suddenly see it without warning. That way I could take control of the situation and it would seem like all the permanent drawings on my arm were intentional. Martin was impressed, said it looked beautiful and even offered to help clean it when needed if it was difficult to reach. Martin always says the right things, he's just always doing it right. The realisation that while he is doing things right, i'm straight up wrong just by existing, well, it kinda hurts.
The birthday dinner wasn't anything major. My parents and my best friend showed up at around 8pm, we ate dinner and had cake. My parents gave me an airline giftcard and my best friend gave me a framed picture of herself, which was pretty much what I would expect from her at this point. When they left I cleaned the kitchen and living room while Martin had gone to bed, tired from a long day.
I was also tired, but i don't think in the same way as him. I was tired from the pain of my arm, tired from the cleaning the day before and cooking today. Tired from once every other hour having someone speak inside my head, sentences completely out of context and sometimes two sentences at once. I didn't really know how that worked but i guessed it was both spoken words and thought words. After all my mind was a big mess when it happened anyway.
You know that feeling when you're at the club or at a party. And there's this one guy, slowly closing in on you. You've seen from miles away that he wants to strike up a conversation, maybe hint to some heavy petting and going back to his place, so you consciously move further away from him whenever he gets closer because you're not interested at all. There doesn't have to be anything wrong with him, you just know within yourself that it's not going to happen with him. Not tonight, not tomorrow. So you avoid even letting him ask the question just so you don't have to give him the answer.
That's how I was about going to sleep. Walking into the bedroom and getting into the bed with Martin, which I had done every night for over a year now, suddenly sounded awful. My whole body rejected the idea. I was sweating, my mind was actively looking for reasons to not sleep in that bed, while my mind wanted nothing more than to find the peace i usually found in even the thought of being in Martin's arms.
I looked at the clock on the wall, 11pm.
"I'm going for a walk" I shouted to Martin from the hallway as I put on a jacket, a scarf and some boots, grabbing my keys from the counter before leaving the apartment.
It was a cold night, it kinda felt soothing on my burning arm to be outside. I had music in my ears, my favourite songs by my favourite artists BTS blasting to help calm the storm. It was kinda working, but as I took in the night sky and the frosty December air, I couldn't help but think about the voices I had been hearing all day.
I ended up sitting on a bench by the river only ten minutes away from where I lived. It was hidden in a small area of trees and gave me the quiet feeling of being far away from everything while still being pretty close to home. The moon reflected beautifully in the water, giving light to the ducks swimming peacefully. As if someone hit a switch, my music suddenly went into the back of my mind, only barely audible and a voice filled the entirety of my senses. It was as if I could smell it, touch it, see it and hear it inside my head.
"Soulmate" The dark voice spoke. "Who are you?"
I choked on air and started coughing from the surprise of the unwelcome intrusion of my senses. The music still not back in my ears I automatically replied.
"I'm Hannah, who are you?"
YOU ARE READING
Complete us - A BTS ot7+1 Soulmate story.Fanfiction
Hannah did not believe the stories about soulmates were real, but how else can she explain how she woke up on her 20th birthday with a soul mark and seven different voices in her head?