Mizuki Sayeko had never been fond of the whole 'soulmates' concept, not when her past warned her of the side-effects of falling too deep into the lucid, hypnotising trap. With piercing gazes, a stone-cold heart, would her soulmates ever get through...
my friend the moon rises: she is beautiful, but when is she not?
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THE WEEKEND AFTER DOING THE DEED, Mizuki was sore. Really sore. Her soulmates had not been gentle with her after her first time with each one of them. She had been fucked in many positions, touched in areas she never knew felt so pleasurable. Her voice had levelled to pitches unimaginable, her cries echoing throughout the whole house.
Mizuki was so glad Akira and Talia were off on their own winter holiday for the week.
So fucking glad.
She didn't need her aunt to come home and hear her having sex with her soulmates (we all know Akira deliberately didn't come home for that exact reason).
Sitting on the plane, Mizuki felt a tug on the corner of her lips, a softness blooming inside her chest. She could feel the various emotions swirling through their completed bond, lingering at her edges, seeping into her veins and mingling with her blood, becoming wholeheartedly one with her.
For the heartbeat of their brushed fingertips and them whispering to her the first secret the world refused to acknowledge, her heart blossomed and the loneliness within her dissipated, replaced by contentment, and she falls, and they catch her in their arms. She chanted on silently to never let her fall, to not land amongst the dusty lands of broken hearts.
Do not worry, Mizuki.
The boys would wait till hell froze over and the firmaments cracked before ever leaving you.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the words of the flight attendant reverberated throughout the plane, the familiar language reaching Mizuki's ears, "as we start our descent, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position. Make sure your seat belt is securely fastened, and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. Thank you."
Mizuki did as instructed, raising her seat back to its original position. She relaxed, feeling the aeroplane skirt against the tarmac road as it landed in foreign land. She took her time to depart from the airport, going through the security stations, gathering her suitcases and calling for a taxi to pick her up.
All the while, eyes followed her.
She was the perfect example of grace. A butterfly with bullet holes in her wings that never regretted learning to fly, never regretted learning to love.
"Thank you so much," Mizuki said, paying the taxi driver with money and a soft smile.
"Of course, ma'am." He tipped his hat, slipping back into the car after helping her unload her suitcases. They bid each other a goodbye, waving and moving along with their lives.
Arriving in her dorm, Mizuki lugged her luggage inside, panting as she dropped it to the floor, kneeling down and unzipping the bag. She worked swiftly, taking out her clothes and neatly placing them in their respective places.
