worlds of my imagination - short and sweet stories

our timelines

Finals week always feels particularly stressful, especially to Nora as she walks into the library. Just locating a table causes her to overthink, which random person will hate her the least if she sit next to them? With lots of thought she finally selects a table already occupied by a curly haired boy. As she scoots out the chair diagonal from the boy they make eye contact. Nora subconsciously traces the set of lines on her wrist, her cheeks heating up at the soft grin he sends her. Something about him already feels so farmilar, as if they have known eachother for longer than three seconds.

"Hey," he whispers across the table to her as she takes a seat. Her eyes find his once again before his eyes drift to her wrist, "nice tattoo."

She glances down at her wrist before replying in a hushed voice, "thanks... I mean, it's all natural." Nora teases, a smile slipping onto her lips. She's normally much more reserved with strangers but something about this boy makes her speak as though they're friends.

He chuckles, tugging down the arm of his sweatshirt. He holds up his left wrist, the same side as Nora's, which displays the same tattoo as her. "I know what you mean," he shares, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Her eyes trace the abstract pattern, a mess of lines that progress over their lifetimes. A flutter of something erupts in her chest, this boy could be her soulmate. She's dreamed of who they would be since the very idea was introduced to her in school. "Wow," She exhales, "I've never met someone with the same pattern as me before."

He nods his head in agreement, "Well in that case, nice to meet you, I'm Max Pembrooke."

She smiles, "And I'm Nora Winters."

"Nora," Max repeats, "It appears this is the start of something new."

It is now her turn to nod her head, feeling a sense of urgency suddenly. She digs through her backpack, pulling out what she originally came to the library to do, "I hope so, but as of right now it needs to wait. I can't afford to fail any classes."

He chuckles, glancing over the multitude of books she pulls out of her bag. "I can see that," he plays, dropping his head back to his own book. Nora doesn't catch the way his cheeks light up pink.

Blushing, Nora whines, "Hey! Aren't you supposed to be nice to me?"

He shakes his head, looking up through the curls that have flopped over this forehead.

Nora leans forward on her elbows, wanting to run her fingers through his hair. Her gut flips when he sends her an impossibly charming grin, "You know I'm just messing with you. What about we take a break in an hour, I'll leave you alone till then."

Nora nods her head, excitement bubbling through her, "Sounds good!"

---

It is exactly 59 minutes later when Nora's train of thought is interrupted, a excited tone to Max's otherwise quiet voice "Have you ever looked at someone and thought about your possible futures?"

She blinks a few times, lifting her gaze to the boy in front of her. Nora knows exactly what Max meant once she processes his question. There has long been a fairytale that touching matching tattoos together reveals your possibilities with the other person.

Nora thought back to the obsession of her childhood, finding all of these fables of soulmates. Her parents only found their tattoos to not match when Nora showed up, pink cheeks and a head of hair, weighting 6 pounds 4 ounces. "I guess when I was a kid," She answers, leaving the sob story out of the conversation. If this boy really is her soulmate he'll be around long enough to hear it.

Max seems more bouncy than an hour ago, his left hand twirling around an orange highlighter in the air. The boy seems to radiate energy, shifting forward in his chair, What happen to that spirit?"