Karl was an avid fan of romantic tropes, more specifically: the red string of fate. Key word: was.
His hopes were lost at the ripe age of 20, accepting the fact that the string might not be real, until he's met someone.
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The person standing in front of him was surprisingly Dream; though he had mask on covering most of his face, he could still tell that he was shocked.
"Karl.. You're my soulmate..?" He sounded awfully disappointed, his lips forming a slight frown.
Normally, he'd be offended, but he was also slightly disappointed-- so he really couldn't say much.
Karl stared at the string that connected the two, questioning the accuracy of it; shaking his head. He and Dream weren't necessarily close friends, but they hung out enough to know the other well enough. In other words, acquaintances.
No, it can't be wrong, right? It's never wrong...
But..
"Maybe... Maybe it's wrong this time." Karl said, looking at his shaky hand. Dream hung his head low, knowing very well that it just wasn't the case.
Lips pursed, Dream murmurs a soft apology, heart aching at the fact that George wasn't his destined lover.
"Cut it." Karl interjects both their frantic thoughts; Dream snapping his head up and looked at the shorter with an odd expression, "What?"
